Day 18 - Don't Anticipate - Participate

This morning I woke up to skies that were gray but free of the impending flakes Tom Skilling promised were on the way.  As I drove to work, I contemplated what today might bring.  I thought for sure my drive home would be long and stress inducing – exacerbated by a long day at work, the “wintry mix” of sleet and snow, and highways clogged with tentative drivers and those driving too fast for conditions.  I’ve had drives home like that before, and I thought that if the day brought nothing new or exciting, I could surely blog about my drive.  I could work to find patience and serenity as I slid along ice coated streets, and skidded behind salt trucks. 

Then I rushed out of work, started my drive home, and encountered zero traffic.  Sure, the pavement wasn’t dry, and I had to turn my windshield wipers on, but the streets were salted and relatively clear.  It seemed that many people left work early or took alternate routes home because there were few cars on the road at all.  There went my “something new!”  How could I cultivate a calm mind amidst chaos when the chaos eluded me?  That got me thinking a little bit about anticipation and expectation.

There is no anticipation like the anticipation of a snowstorm amongst high school students.  They whisper about it, talk openly about, insist loudly and emphatically that it won’t happen – all the time crossing fingers and toes that it will.  This behavior is not limited to students.  In faculty rooms around school, “Snow-day” is whispered in hushed tones, weighted with a reverence generally reserved for royalty and sleeping newborn babies. 

A snow-day is like pitching a perfect game or winning the lottery – you worry that if you talk about it too much it won’t happen, and so you leave school saying “See you tomorrow!” in a voice dripping with certainty and sarcasm - tinged with optimism and a hint of desperation.  You don’t dare to hope for that day of blissful freedom, yet the possibility of it lingers in the margins of your consciousness – daring you to reach for it as it recedes before you.  One of my students imitated Patrick Stewart playing Macbeth, but instead of grasping at an invisible dagger, he snatched at the air crying “Is this a snow day that I see before me?!” It’s how we all feel this time of year, and often the promise of a heavy snowfall is far worse than clear skies and dry streets.

Today was just such a day.  I anticipated snow, and expected that its tumultuous arrival would be the subject of my blog.  The anticipation was exhausting, and my expectations for my drive home were a hindrance to this journey I am on.  This blog is not an exercise in looking forward – in anticipation - but in slowing down and noticing the realities of my life.  In my attempts to find something new, I came dangerously close to forcing something new. 

I began to think of all the times that I do this – the times I have preconceived notions about how an event, a day, a moment, or relationship should play out, happen, or progress.  Without intending to, I prefabricate my life – or at least intend to – until the rug is ripped out from under me, and I’m left wondering why the event, day, moment, or relationship didn’t fit the mold I tried to shove it in to.  I don’t want a cookie cutter life – I’ve never had one and I never will, but sometimes we all want our cookies to turn out just right.  I can’t blame myself for slipping up, but I can be responsible for remaining cognizant of this tendency in myself.  As we tell students on our Kairos retreats– don’t anticipate; participate.  Today, a little sleet, a little snow, and a hassle free drive home reminded me to be a participant in my own life.