From my window, the trees branches bow. Powdery cold adorns them in thick white blankets, heavy, pure, silent. Today will be a snow day, whether I like it or not, I have no say. There is a fire crackling downstairs. It warms the house, fills it with a sweet smoky smell. I sit in my bed buried in my own white fluffy blankets of down. Stillness is the theme of the day.
My drive home last night was not as comforting. The storm moved in quickly, starting as dark clouds and cold rain. By nightfall the snow began its attack. I live in the mountains up one of the steepest roads in Colorado. I attempted the drive home at 10pm. While I braved the road and won, I did so with intense dedication, concentration and a firm grip on the steering wheel. I fishtailed my way around the last two switchbacks, swearing at moments that I was driving sideways. But I made it safely.
Today, when I awoke, it was not the stress of an intense drive that I felt. I was not filled by the pressure of my upcoming fundraiser and all the unchecked boxes of things yet to do. Instead I was filled with stillness. I appreciate the snow for this, and the comfort of a warm home and my loyal dog and my persistent cat. I could complain about the need to reschedule meetings, the fact that there is no time to reschedule because I’m already booked up. Or I can listen to the Steeldriver Radio on Pandora, bake cookies, and maybe even dress up in my snow gear and go play outside.
Yesterday I had an interview on KGNU, the local Boulder/Denver radio station. They interviewed me about my project and my upcoming fundraiser. The interview will air tomorrow. I will try and link a copy of it onto the website. Today I received emails from local mental health professionals RSVPing to the fundraiser event, some making donations, some inquiring about more information. I have worked diligently the past month on this event. While it is just a week away, and I still feel the pressure of time. I will enjoy today. Today can be my day of rest. Today I will trust that all the work I have done will not disappear by my one absent day, my snow day. And today I will play! And tomorrow I will return to work. Tomorrow will be one day closer to my fundraiser. Tomorrow, the snow will muddy and melt, and this gentle stillness will fade away.