In honour of the beautiful dump of snow we received last weekend, I am reposting a blog I wrote two years ago:
I am by nature someone who avoids discomfort. I take no joy in struggle, and constantly find myself putting off tasks I find to be unpleasant.
This mentality extends to winter. As someone who lives in Canada, I know cold well. I even lived in the Arctic for four years. I have witnessed the season at its absolute most intense, with cold that sears right to the bone.
I know, at least in an academic sense, that it is wrong to merely survive winter. It is like living for the weekend. Are you really willing to merely endure 5/7ths of your life? Winter here is almost half the year. I don't want to hibernate away, only coming out of my shell in April. Yet it is much more comfortable to stay indoors, lying on the couch.
Finally, a couple of years ago, I took up snowshoeing as a winter activity. I glommed onto it immediately, and have never looked back. I find being in the woods to be supremely meditative, yet at the same time an intense workout. I am literally drenched after a ninety minute session.
This year I took it a step further, and took on a community responsibility, to design and maintain the trail network in our villlage. It has gotten me out in the snow more than ever, still meditative but now with the added layer of creativity. I feel a tremendous sense of pride as I traverse the trail netowrk, knowing I played a major role in making them happen.
Yesterday our committee of three put on in a night snowshoeing activity. While it is sure there are many tweaks to make, we felt awesome at what we were able to organize.
The funny thing is, this has been an extremely cold winter by historical standards. People all around me are complaining, but I have not suffered one bit. I am happy not to have lost the snow; and have been out in the woods more times than I can count.
I am reminded of Robert Frost:
Whose woods these are I think I know
His house is in the village though.
He will not see me stopping here
To see his woods fill up with snow.
It took 50+ years, but I have finally learned how to live in the moment during the white season.