What an amazing week it has been here in D.C. The city has been crippled by record snows—more snow than ever in recorded history. Someone told me that this year, we had so far received more snow than Anchorage, Alaska. The blizzard caused a beauty and a sense of the surreal. I was, over the weekend, snowed in at a dear friend’s without power, light, water, cooking—miles into a hilly, forest area. There were a couple of scary moments, especially when we realized the power was out and the light was leaving. And yet—there was a great beauty in that evening. My friend’s grown son was with us and he mentioned that he was “addicted” to electricity—and now was without iPod, movies, music. As is our culture, really—addicted to electricity and to that which it provides. So that night, we gathered all of the candles, unused for years, and my friend built a towering fire in the fireplace. We told stories, laughed, drew the blankets around us (there was no heat, of course, and it was well below freezing outside). It was an evening ablaze with warmth and love.
In the week that followed, I was mostly at home, in my office-turned-snowglobe. It was beautiful outside, and brutal. There was one day it was much too raw and dangerous even to try to go outside. So I abandoned myself to it, and enjoyed session after session over the phone, tapping through challenges with my clients, watching the snow swirl outside.
In every setback, there are gifts…at my friend’s house, we all drew close that evening and I will be forever grateful for the time, though had I known beforehand that I would be stranded, I probably would have decided to stay home instead. It makes me wonder what gifts I may deny myself by looking ahead in fear. And how much better it is for me, and all of us, to look ahead in hope and expectation. Where are the gifts that are on my way now?
Whatever they are, they are many.
Stay warm, and enjoy this wintry day, wherever you are.
much love,
Lynne
