The Long Way

Around noon yesterday snow started falling. Six hours later we were blanketed in a lovely six inches of fluffy whiteness. I picked up a shovel to clear the walk, but kept going. Having a father, two brothers and a snow blower growing up, I can honestly say I have never shoveled a driveway. Living on the corner of two main roads, I could almost feel the passers-by thinking, "Why is she shoveling that whole driveway???" as they commuted home for the evening.

But I wanted to finish what I had started, the long way. I found myself savoring the quiet muffled sounds, the still falling snow, and the purity and beauty of the world around me. I realized all those people in their cars would miss it. They wouldn't take the time to enjoy those subtle beauties. They would go home grumbling, begrudgingly pull out the snow blower and hope to clear the snow as quickly as possible and get inside to have a drink, eat, and probably waste away their evening in front of the television. But I liked the growing burn in my muscles and what it felt like to DO the work. When I was finished, I let myself fall backwards off my porch into the snow and just lay there looking up at the now clear sky. And I made a snow angel. :-)

The way we accomplish our goals (small or big) matters. There is richness and joy to be found in the journey towards an end. If you opt for a half hour walk instead of a five minute drive, those two miles look completely different. Instead of a mind numbing whir, you see the trees and the flowers, the insects and the animals, the people on their front porches. You hear the buzz of crickets in the grass. You can greet the people you pass, you can engage the world. You could see it as 25 minutes lost, but what if its not?

Good things take time. Good things take effort. Good things take sacrifice.

Don't exchange what is lasting for what is fleeting. Don't exchange the truth for a lie.