Oh the weather outside is frightful . . .

The snow came and came and came. For a city used to its share of winter weather, this season has been disproportionately generous. Even the most enthusiastic snow revelers have had enough, but news has it there’s more on it’s way.

A friend in Boston sent a photograph of her shoveling the walkway outside her house where the snow on either side is above her head. It’s been a long time since I have seen so much snow, but it reminded me of a truth I learned long ago: don’t let it build up.

I have learned the hard way that the best way to keep a driveway or walkway clear is to vigilantly shovel even if the snow is still falling. Done this way, the shovel loads are light and the work easy. Yes, there are more trips outside and more shovel aerobics, but they are nothing to waiting and trying to clear it all at once. Keep on it, and it’s a cinch. Wait, and you will have twice the work and run the risk of bodily injury.

In other words, it’s like living. The weather of life shows up whether we want it to or not. On relationships, careers, families, spiritual lives, physical lives . . . the snows will fall. We can wait until the snow subsides and do all the clearing at once, or we can learn to vigilantly keep the pathways clear. Yes, it will require more conversations, more time on our knees, or at the gym, but the work is lighter and easier if we stay on it.  Wait, and the mountains of snow will be overwhelming, causing us to quit or experience all kinds of unnecessary pain.

The choice is ours.

Sailing up wind.

I am not a sailor, although I have enormous respect for those who are. Ever since I was a child, I could not figure out how a boat could travel up wind. It was easy to understand how one sails down wind. Opening a sail and letting the wind take us where it will is easy and takes little thought. Sailing up wind, however, is much more difficult and involves tacking back and forth, requiring thought and practice.

As I try to navigate my way through life, I know there are two directions into which I can sail. I can go down wind, which takes little effort or thought. All I have to do is open my sails and let the wind take me where it will. The other choice is to sail up wind, which is harder and requires thought and practice. Both use the same wind, but end up in completely different places.

For me, the wind is life and the fears I so often feel when it arrives. I can let the breeze take me down wind, or I can learn to use the wind to pull me in a different direction. One is easy, the other difficult, but I am convinced up wind is the “more excellent” destination.

People describe the two destinations in a variety of ways - our will and God’s, our false selves and true, our being asleep and awake – but the image of sailing serves to describe the challenge we face no matter how you describe the destinations. To open our sails and let the wind blow us down wind is easy and takes little thought, just like living in our own wills or in our false selves. To head in the other direction is more difficult and requires thought and practice, just like trying to live in God’s will or in our true selves. The wind is the same, but how we decide to use it is not.

I still don’t understand sailing, but I believe it points to an important truth about making my way through life.

Joining the game.

I recently visited a school with no bleachers. Given its intentional small size, every student is needed. There is no place to sit and watch others participate, no place to look on and critique, no opportunity allowing time to make sure you can do whatever is asked flawlessly.

I left with a certain amount of intimidation. How would I have done in such a place? Looking back, I can see moments when I sat in the bleachers, letting others take the risk. The fear of failure or embarrassment was too often sitting beside me in the bleachers, and now I regret the times I played it safe by not playing at all.

Teddy Roosevelt spoke eloquently of those who are brave enough to enter the arena, the ones with sweat, blood and more than a few skinned knees. Brene’ Brown built on his words by encouraging us to dare greatly in her amazing book. Most recently, I watched a talk by Molly Barker challenging us all to have the courage to speak and live from our hearts.

It is a message that has been said in countless ways, but is so hard to do. Whether in our lives of faith, our relationships with others, or in our jobs, the bleachers are always calling, inviting us to come sit and watch. How hard it is to turn down the invitation, and harder still to get up once we’re seated, but I believe that’s what we're called to do. It is on the field, or in the arena, that true life, real relationships, fulfilling careers are to be found.

The choice is ours.

The game is on.

It’s time to get up and play.

For more on the subject:

Teddy Roosevelt’s speech           “The man in the Arena.”

Brene’ Brown’s book                   Daring Greatly

Molly Barker’s Ted x Talk             www.youtube.com/watch?v=hw8hnAq0wbQ