I really didn’t think I’d be using this photo two months in a row…but how can I resist? I’m writing this at home in my living room while one son is writing an essay beside me on his laptop, my husband takes a conference call in the attic, and another son is shoveling the driveway. Thor is Storm Number 17, people, and counting. But who’s counting?
This may be a good time to bring up Groundhog Day.
Anyone else love this movie? Can I see a show of hands? I know, isn’t it great! For the uninitiated, Bill Murray plays a mess of a man, who gets lost in the present moment for a millennia — trapped in time, like an insect in resin, or Westchesterites in the Winter of 2015. When faced with the same snow day, after snow day, after snow day, after snow day, this narcissistic windbag evolves from a creature who feeds his most base desires to a Buddha who frees himself from worldly desires and in so doing frees the world from suffering.
So imagine, if you will, you are in your own Groundhog Day. That’s where I am! Right now it feels as if we’ve had the same snow day forever. But one day the snow will melt. My kids will leave the house. One day I will leave the house and time will march on. But for now, in this moment, in the middle of my own snowday millennia, what small choices can I make to do the most good for the most people? Listening to my children? A phone call to a friend? Holding off on the car horn? Practicing fifteen minutes of yoga? These small, small choices we make, this is the fabric from which our life is woven.