Snowapocalypse 2014!

Aside from being a great catastrophe, an apocalypse can be simply defined as “any revelation or prophecy” or it can be defined more specifically as “a prophetic revelation, especially concerning a cataclysm in which the forces of good permanently triumph over the forces of evil.” (Dictionary.com)

Western North Carolina’s Snowapocalypse 2014 is upon me and with a whole six whopping inches outside (I’ve been told that I am underestimating and that we really have 8-10 inches!) I am trapped in my apartment, the gleaming sheen of light off of the layer of crystalline precipitation aiding to enslave me even further to the enlightenment of my own revelations.

What does this mean?

Literally it means that snow in WNC, regardless of the slightness, is crippling to our social sphere because (as we receive so little snowfall) we lack the resources necessary to make normal, day-to-day living happen with oh-so frosty fun on the ground.  Winter Storm Pax (who just came and went, no time for dinner) left many Western North Carolinians talking of a Snowapocalypse as the thought of 6+ inches left them riddled with fears of cabin fever and forever eating canned beans.  (Warmed only if the power stayed on.)

Personally, the Snowapocalypse has been real for me in the sense that the time alone (my son is snowed in at his Dad’s) has proved to have some of the effects of a spiritual awakening of sorts.  I have been plagued with a sense of awareness that has left me feeling both open and raw and excited as this path of, dare I say healing, is stretched out as a glimmering winter wonderland before me.  (This may not sound particularly apocalyptic, but bear with me while I attempt to make a far stretch on this one.)

I don’t know about the permanence of the triumph (as we are always striving to be our better selves, right?) but there has definitely been a good-trumping-evil quality as I find this awareness, as painful as it may be, is all about my shortcomings that, unbecoming as they are, must be brought out into the light in order to be overcome.

I promise, hopefully not to your dismay, not to list all of my personal shortcomings here for you to enjoy while doing whatever else it is you do while perusing the Internet.

Here instead might be an appropriate time to interject that I am a person who tries to own my shit.  In owning my shit, I mean I go to therapy and read self-help books and journal and reflect and attempt to render myself responsible for my own healthy and unhealthy habits and behaviors.

Basically, I try not to pass the buck, sweep it under the rug, or wallow in denial.  You know, I try to own it.  My shit.

Owning this shit isn’t always what I’d call a pleasant experience.  I sometimes wonder how much longer I am going to have to work this hard.  I ask myself if I did, by starting therapy, open a Pandora’s Box of ugly truths and personal demons that need constant close examining, tweaking, molding, and/or extermination.  But, I have come so, so far and for this, of course, I am grateful.

So, this morning, in addition to starting a 21-day meditation challenge about love and reading about creating healthy relationships (let me say that when I talk love and relationships, I do not necessarily mean the romantic kind), I spent some time weeping and writing apology letters.  The type of letters that you never send.  The type that are meant for you and you alone to start to process and to heal but still seem to put the intention forth.  I have more to apologize for than I realized and this is very humbling.

So, yes, I spent some time looking at relationships—those intact and those that have dissolved or profoundly shifted—and examined my role in them.  How am I giving?  How am I purely self-serving?  What patterns emerge and with whom?

Exhausting and exciting both.

Thanks snow.

As so often here, I wish I could go into substance, spill my guts, let those patterns be known to the handful of people who might read this, but I find that this is not (yet anyway) an appropriate place to be too forthcoming.

So, really, you might be thinking, an apocalypse?  That’s a big word and probably not the one you really want to be using here.  (You’re probably right, but I’ve already come this far…)  You see, something inside me cracked in these last few days, something profound.  And something else inside me died—my innocence to the pervasiveness of some of my deeper flaws and how these flaws affect my relationships with others.  While the destruction may not be of evil (I did call it innocence), my awareness has perhaps caused a cataclysmic shift within myself.  I can’t feign blindness.  I must take responsibility and I must act.  You know, out of the ashes and all that jazz.

In trying to write this (somehow it has been challenging, hopefully not evidently so), I returned to my “cultivating joy” post from the start of the year.  I would like it to be known that the path—of not numbing, of feeling authentic emotions, of making sound choices—is one that I am still on.  If that was January 9th, then it has been ten days plus a month plus four more days (what’s that, like forty four days total?!?) that I have continued to walk foot in front of the other without the shroud of avoidance that I had been carrying.  Yay me!  I believe that this (let’s forget the whole apocalyptic thing!) Snow Day Awakening is a direct result of this tackling myself and my emotions and my life head on instead of deadening.  I am thawing out and it is hard but it is wonderful.  I look forward to healthier patterns and richer relationships ahead.

And, if I owe you an apology, it is possible that I have written you one already…

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