Last night, we received another twelve inches of snow on top of what we already had, which was a lot. We also lost power at about 11 p.m. – had it restored twelve hours later. While Simon worked the snowblower, I shovelled Mount Everest off our deck. Ok – exaggeration – it wasn’t Everest – just K2. It went like this: first I had to dig my way to the base of the mountain – a path through waist-high snow. Then I had to dig steps up to the summit. Then, once mounted and having planted my flag, I shovelled K2 down to something more Old Glory sized, including creating a flat-ish top. This was interesting work, given that most of the top was ice and snow packed into cement. But spreading the load over the deck and away will probably save us a collapsed deck.
Then – because hey! – shovelling is my thing – I started digging out the dog walk, interrupted that to shop for groceries (we were down to a choice of cereal or cereal for dinner tonight) and then back to shovelling. I completed the dog walk in the pouring rain. Yes – pouring!
So there you have it. What an exciting day that was!
I came across a few things on Facebook today – one was a guy giving a talk about what we do with our lives. He painted the picture we are all familiar with – we go to school, we work,, we pay our mortgage, we watch TV and get excited when the stock market goes up – even though we don’t know why and especially even because it doesn’t really do you or I any good. At any rate, his point was – why?
It’s a question I’ve asked myself all my life. Why do I keep living this life? Why do any of us? Some of us will always strive for the nice car and the big house and the designer clothes and we’ll die anyway. Some of us will veer off that path, look for something more fulfilling – but we are still enough a part of this capitalist society we live in that we are mindful of having some security – so as not to end up a bag lady being eaten by cats in an inner city alley.
But what if we simply paid no attention to any of that? What if we lived our passion with every fibre of our being? I’ve thought about that often. And then I’ve seen the people who do: usually living somewhere out in the bush with no indoor plumbing and smelling pretty bad. Can’t do it. Am I just too bourgeoise? Have I been too indoctrinated?
On the other hand, I’ve put in my work – 50 years of it. And I’ve saved a bit – not too much but probably enough, which will dwindle as inflation grows in leaps and bounds and the government gives me a $2 per year raise to make up for it.
So the question is – what do I want to do with the rest of my life to make it the richest, most fulfilling life possible?
Write, of course. I already do that. Writing is like breathing – so I will write.
Hike – moving my body through nature, especially in the alpine – is also as necessary to me as breathing.
Love – this one is something that brings a different kind of joy – it runs pretty deep and it has a lot to do with giving. This is where I wish I had millions of dollars – oh the gifts I would give!
Travel – I love movement. I especially love trains – I love jumping on and off trains, discovering new towns and villages – discovery, curiosity. Love it!
This, I believe, is the beginning of a list.