It snowed today and rather than drive through the weather for two one-hour meetings on this Teacher Work Day, I decided to take the day off. I didn’t get out of my pajamas until after 7 in the evening when I decided that the dog and I needed a walk in the season’s first snow.
I had two naps today, read half of a book (Three Daughters by Letty Cottin Pogrebin), answered a couple of work-related emails, made mac n’ cheese, and moaned to my mother about the mediator and my home situation, but I held back the tears because I don’t want to cry today. I had planned to pay some bills, but I didn’t even open the envelopes. I also planned to write a couple of blog posts that I have been thinking about, but they didn’t get written. But I did begin mulling over how we bloggers, no, we people who write blogs could get some monetary compensation for the reading of our writing, and how the publishing world needs to change, or really, what I could do to create that change since I was feeling pretty capable today in my flannels. But these are just nascent thoughts, with no light bulbs to accompany them, yet.
Beneath the texture of those external things and thoughts, a current has been running through me like the current in a river that is barely visible but still underlies all. I guess it’s an emotion, since when something is so hard to identify, it’s generally an emotion. Is it sadness? Or is it aloneness? Or is it the emotion of realization, an emotion which probably doesn’t exist but should, because it is what one feels when one realizes that she is who she is and that her life is what it is. Is this a good thing to be feeling, or would it be better to keep glossing over and pretending that I deserve a pair of rose-colored glasses, since I know that I don’t have the rose-colored life (does anyone)?
What does it mean to feel realization? For me, it’s less about the things that occupy my life and more the people, at least “realization” as I have been feeling it today. Maybe it was being forced to stay at home but to have none of the requisite comforts of home that have been needlepointed into our psyche as the proper image of a snow day. You know, to discuss the condition of the roads and that you should stay home and be safe with the person who has been at your side through summer days and snow days, and who will actually go out and shovel while you prepare mugs of hot chocolate for children sledding down slippery hills and men testing their manhood against the snow. Or was the realization of today just another aspect of loneliness that one feels when you don’t want to be alone and do it all on your own without a crutch or shovel holder to lean on.
Why get out of my pajamas if no one needs me, or even wants me? What’s the point? To feel less essential? This way I can hide behind my own lethargy and not face my solitariness. No work to do. No children who need me except for finding gloves and perusing the contents of the refrigerator, freezer and pantry together for a total of three minutes. No one who needs me to warm him or comfort him, or who needs to be at the giving end of those comforts that he needs to give to feel alive and needed.
Realization, indeed. It’s like the snow, it descends, makes its impact, and then disappears. I hope we won’t have much more snow this year.