Looking For Calm

The stillness and quiet have struck me across the last few days. The calm before the blizzard, our city shutting down in anticipation. The frenzy of getting to the store, the gas station and making last minute preparations is over, nothing left to do but wait. This waiting feels different somehow. It is without deadlines, schedules, lists and expectations, it feels less a sprint to get things done and more a reminder of how things should be, could be if only we allowed ourselves the space to hear the quiet and let it envelope our being. Why do we give ourselves permission before a storm? Is it because officials and the media have warned us that we should not, for safety sake, be on the roads, or off to work, a conference we are signed up for or school?  What if everyone else is heeding the warnings? Shouldn’t we as well? Perhaps it is because we crave it, relish the idea of slowing down. If we don’t, we risk not having anything left in the tank to continue at this relentless pace. We are not as good about waiting when we have to be somewhere, when the traffic arrow stays green for just 15 seconds, and if we miss getting through the interesection we must endure waiting through another 3 minute cycle. Or when someone ahead of us in the grocery store check out line tries three different credit cards before deciding to pay cash. The wait  feels agonizing and it can feel like we are ready to jump out of our skin. Getting out of the house in the morning trying to get one child to the shuttle and the other moving in a faster gear so everyone can get where they need to be on time. Waiting for our dog to go to the bathroom in the evening can feel eternal. She sniffs each shrub, patch of grass or street sign before she makes a choice. She is not in a rush ever. She is living in the moment. Yet for me this wait can sometimes feel endless. Why do we rush through these moments, feeling frustrated and exasperated when they can be a chance to notice the beauty right before our eyes?

My daughter and I took the dog out for a walk last night. The snow continued to fall, the wind was blowing and as we stood in the middle of a street which typically has cars moving quickly up and down, we stopped and both mentioned the quiet. Rather than hurry on, we dropped down in the snow and listened. We covered the dog with some snow, made a snow angel, caught a couple of snowflakes on our tongues and let the stillness wash over us. How do we preserve this pace? Do we really need an epic snowstorm to remind us to pause more often, check in on our elderly neighbors, feel the warmth of the sun on our face, hear the beauty in the sound of chirping birds, notice a snowflake that falls and lands ever so gently on our eyelashes? I wish it was not the truth, but it does feel somehow that big events really force us to take notice and to take stock of all that we have. This feels like a really good time to savor these moments. Let’s try and enjoy our cars being snowed in, traffic being off the roads, listening to the wind howl, work and classes being postponed at least for the present.  Let us notice and be grateful for the freedom that exempts us from having to do anything.