Day number 82: Snow calmed my anxiety

It was a winter wonderland when I left McCall today.  It looked just like a Christmas card!

Perhaps it's that I grew up in Texas, where the last time I remember snow was 1984 when we made snowmen in our front yard and I was 9, but I am still excited and amazed every time I am in snow. 

I slept 10 hours last night.  When I got up at 8:30 I was so groggy and tired and ready to lounge around the cabin.  It was pouring rain outside--perfect weather for my flannel pants and hot tea.  Then I checked the snow report for Brundage.  They got 4+inches overnight up top, and it was currently snowing.

This triggered the "shoulds" inside my head.  The committee was called to order, quickly filling my mind with all sorts or reasons why I needed to go up and ski.  Nevermind that I was exhausted, wanted to run, needed to pack, and really wanted to sit around and read all day long.  All that went out the window as the people in my head rallied together to avoid the fear of missing out.  I imagined telling people who knew I was in McCall, no, I didn't go to Brundage that day they got a foot of snow....I chose instead to sit around and read a book.  It sounded so pathetic.

At one point I saw blue skies and the anxiousness got worse (I guess the committee feeds on good weather?).  Ironically I was reading a book about reducing stress, so I put my new tools to work.  I kept sitting, kept reading, kept boiling water when my tea was empty.  Suddenly it was 1.  Something falling outside that looked like flowers falling from a tree caught my eye.  I looked out 10 minutes later and the rain had turned to snow!  It snowed bug fluffy wet snow chucks.  It snowed sideways.  It snowed those little pellets that have some special name.  No matter what, though, it kept snowing.

I don't know if the snow gave me an excuse I could live with for staying in or if the lateness of the hour did it or if suddenly my starts were aligned, or if it was all the windows in the cabin that gave a spectacular view of the snow, but I gave up the battle of "the shoulds".  Some might call this acceptance (which I know little about until all the fight is out of me);  I call it marvelous.