The Snow Day

One morning last week didn’t go quite as I’d expected. I got up early to meditate, and as I was getting ready to do so my phone rang. The automated system was letting me know that school had been cancelled due to snow. To say that this was a surprise is an understatement, I had absolutely no idea it was going to snow. I looked out the window in total disbelief, hoping I’d see it was a mistake and that I’d get another automated message clarifying the error and assuring me that yes, in fact, there was school today. But no, I saw snow. My first thought was “NO! This just doesn’t help me today!”. To say it was a welcome surprise may not quite capture how I felt about it in that moment. In that moment I saw only all of the plans I had for that day disappear into the ether.

Ok, deep breath. And another, maybe a few more.

Yes, my plans had changed, and I could be sure that I would not get done what I had planned to get done that day. I sat with that disappointment and the stress of it for a moment. Then I went to meditate. I was about 30 minutes into it and the door to my study opened, and in walked my 7 year old daughter, smiling sleepily. She came over and sat down in my lap, I wrapped my blanket around us both, and we cuddled a bit. Hmmm, I thought, maybe this isn’t so bad.

We sat for a bit, cuddling and talking, enjoying the luxury of a little one-on-one time we rarely get. I let her lead, and she wanted to sharpen her colored pencils together so she could pack them for a trip. Then she wanted to just sit and cuddle some more, so we did that. Eventually, the rest of the house woke up and we started the day.

I decided in those brief moments with my daughter that I was going to do what I could to settle into the opportunities that this day could provide. I may have had an unanticipated disruption to my time to work and to get things done, but I also had an unexpected opportunity to have some fun with my kids.

Their excitement and enthusiasm about the unexpected snow day was contagious. The kids were outside playing before 8am and had a blast. Our neighbor offered to take care of our driveway with his snowblower, and watching the kids chase him so the snowblower blasted and covered them with snow was fun to watch. Their joy was beautiful.

On these days when I remember to breathe and pause, and when I remember to accept the present moment as it is and even embrace the opportunities it brings, I never cease to be amazed at how peaceful and smooth things become, at how much joy there can be in the unexpected. I was looking forward to the day as it unfolded, anticipating some opportunities to connect with my kids, opportunities I would not have had had there not been the unexpected snow day today.

Fast forward a few hours and if only the day had gone to plan. It started so well, and then changed so quickly. The snow turned to rain and playing outside became a much less attractive option. My kids wanted to watch movies all day, which was not in my plan, and they weren’t happy about that. They were arguing and fighting with each other, the noise level was high, and eventually it all wore on all of us. My fantasy of the nice warm fire in the fireplace, hot chocolate after playing in the snow, games in front of the fire, and the three of us enjoying each other’s company made a quick departure.

It was disappointing. My intentions had been so good, my awareness had been so good. Then the day happened, and the “as-is-ness” of the actual day was hard for me to accept. I was attached to my fantasy day, and wasn’t really happy with how the actual day unfolded.

We struggled through the day, and I realized that the problem probably had more to do with my own agenda than anything else. While I started the day prepared to let it unfold, at some point that changed and I ended up with an agenda—an agenda my kids were not on board with. In reflecting back on this I am aware just how often this happens for us adults. It is so easy to get caught up in the “doing” of the day and forget the “being” of it, even when our intentions are good. I am reminded once again to work on more “being” and presence with my kids, particularly when I am handed an unexpected opportunity to connect with them in this way, and to let go of the “doing” as much as I can.

I am grateful for those few moments that morning where I was able to drop my agenda, even if only briefly, and allow myself to just “be” with my kids. The trick now is to remember how connecting and positive that time was and to build on it, to resist the temptation of forming an agenda of “doing” and impose it on my kids when I really don’t have to.