Carving a pathway

tunnel path-23

 

This morning I carved through the great snow mountain that had buried my mailbox in our blizzard’s wake. I faced a mound five feet high and eight feet deep. Primed to tackle it, I just grabbed the shovel and began digging.

Being a person under, five feet tall, I found my difficulty was in breaking through the ice crust that had formed on the top. The snow beneath this crust was relatively light. It broke onto my shovel easily in small removable bricks.

Ah hah, so today’s obstacle became the day‘s challenge. Choosing the path of least resistance, I found myself digging a tunnel underneath the crust. I began to think (as I often do) I could simply build a tunnel that led to an opening at the end to reach the mailbox. The idea gave me such a tickle that I continued digging underneath the crust to see if this could work. I wondered as I shoveled, would our mail carrier be willing to hunker down and funnel their way to the box? Would they see the humor in this idea as I had? Would they play along?

After a while digging I couldn’t help but notice my husband through the picture window of our house, watching me work, he and our dog, together in observation mode. I looked up and waved to them, smiling as I persevered. It was obvious to him from my body language and my grin, that the child in me was having the time of her life!

When I had made it through a little over half of the mountain, my husband came out and joined me, first with his shovel to break down the crust and then the snow blower to complete the job. I let it happen accepting the fact I wasn’t really ten years old, and this was the adult thing to do. In the end we finished this adventure together, making an admirable path (not a tunnel or an igloo) for our mail carrier.

In taking on the mountain this morning, I was filled with enthusiasm and deep gratitude for a mind that has the imagination, will and power to tackle life’s obstacles (mother natures or otherwise) and for a body that with or without help, still has the strength and fortitude to do whatever it takes.

 

namaste

  • Lgb3888

    I have watched you take on many “mountains,” Irene. Just think, you almost reinvented the route to the mailbox to make it into an igloo tunnel. Snow caves actually do protect and warm. Nice metaphor—and fun. Thanks for your mind.