This piece was written last Thursday morning, when I had an unexpected and delicious snow day.
It’s a Thursday morning and I wake up to a world of white. Snow has been falling steadily since the early hours, providing much needed excitement for weather people who have been increasingly bored this winter by the warm temperatures and happy humans.
I have an unexpected snow day. It’s hard to describe how welcome this is — it’s like Paschal cheese after Lent; like your first meal after you deliver a baby.
Snow days are pure grace.
I used to hate snow. I couldn’t bear the flakes, the cold, the wet. I hated the shoveling, the scraping off of ice, the misery.
And in a way, all of those things are still true. Snow does wreak havoc. Snow does cause disruption, it does slow things down. Snow is not convenient.
As I look out on this world of white, I can’t help thinking about all the time I have wasted hating snow, wishing it away. I can’t help being reminded of the times that I have hated that which life brought me.
Hate is such a waste. Hate takes so much energy. It exhausts your body and your mind, it plants itself and needs little water to grow. It is nourished easily and depletes us of that which is good. The roots need little encouragement to go deep, and they are painfully pulled. Hate depletes the soul.
Hate is a giant waste of time, and I have fallen for this trap. I have wasted time in hate – not only in hating snow, but other things. I have wasted time fighting life instead of accepting it. Hate destroys creativity and limits our minds. Hate takes away our motivation and leads us to settle for less.
Supposedly hate is the antonym of love, but I think hate is the antonym of life. Because you can’t really live if your mind is filled with hate.
I sit in complete quiet, the white world around me. Hate feels far away, its roots pulled, replaced by something so much better. And I am grateful.