We had our first real storm of the season today. It come through real quick but dropped as much as a foot in some areas. I think we fell into the 8" to 10" range.
The Buddha sits outside my back door in good weather and bad. He sits unperturbed regardless of what goes on around him.
Yes, this is but a statue, a figure, but it is symbolic of what I aspire towards. But, I digress. I wanted to mention the many winters that I have seen and mention some events that I remember well.
I remember the snow forts that were built in the neighborhood on each side of the street that made for some memorable wars.
I remember a storm that covered my father's car, completely hiding it from view.
My straight edge sled that slid down the hill after me when I hit a tree. It came after me backwards and plunged the blade deep into my upper thigh. This hill saw us riding down on car hoods and trunks. It saw my buddy break his leg in two places.
I remember staying late at the sandbanks after a day of sledding as it grew dark. The quiet, the sound of snow and movement so subtle making one so aware of being alone. The sound of the aloneness growing ever so loud making me quicken my pace home. I arrived back home where supper was always on time, the house and clothes clean, where everything was done efficiently as only a mother could do. But the sense of being alone stayed. I always thought that a mother's hug, a "I love you" could have banished it into obscurity.
Sometimes hot chocolate and peanut butter sandwiches can only go so far.
I find that I often goad myself into feeling disgusted with myself because of these sort of feelings. I must deny them. I was well fed and taken care of. Whenever I feel disturbed by most anything, I tend to feel disgusted with myself. There as so many people who know suffering much deeper than I.
Which I guess brings me full circle back to the Buddha at the post's beginning. Sitting unperturbed.