Snow perfection

I haven’t seen proper snow in ages! Partially because over the past three years I’ve pretty intentionally avoided a winter of those temperatures (crossing the equator really helps with this) and also because during the time I was in New York, it rarely snowed to a point where you had enough snow to make a snowball, and during the conditions where the snow would actually stick to the ground rather than melt away. 

In the two and a half weeks that I’ve been back in northern hemisphere, we’ve had TWO winter snowstorms. It’s wild. After the first snowstorm I got to hop on cross country skis to soak in my first winter wonderland in several years. And after the second, I helped shovel my parents’ driveway, something I haven’t done in probably ten years.

Recently I’ve been trying to get into the spirit of play to help with creativity and to manage the anxiety of the transition moving from Sydney to New Jersey. I was inspired by some snowmen loitering in front of houses in my parents’ neighborhood so the day after the second big snowstorm, my dad and I tried to put together a snowman ourselves — “tried” being they key word. 

I don’t remember the act of forming a snowball to be as hard as it was that day. The snow wasn’t sticking to the initial snow “ball”: pieces kept on breaking off and collapsing to the ground. There were zero spherical snowballs to be seen despite the plethora of snow (7 inches as measured by a measuring tape, which was well within the spacious 3-20 inch range forecasted by the weather app). I felt like giving up. How hard can it be to make a snowman?! But I was determined to make this snowman because I had set out an intention to play and have fun, and you bet I was going to make sure there was a measurable outcome and KPI to boot.

My dad suggested we just shovel snow in a pile and carve the snowman out from there. Part of me rebelled and shrieked in horror at the idea — that’s not how a real snowman is made! And then, “fuck it”. It’s still a snowman no matter how it’s made, whether it’s with perfect snowballs or chunks of hardened shoveled snow stacked on top of each other. Who cares if it’s not made the “right” way? That’s not really the point of making a snowman. Once I was done with this I could go back inside, get comfy on the couch, and go back to reading a book — the perfect cozy activity.

~ ~ ~

I love to read. I’m pretty flexitarian, but I’ve always been drawn to memoirs. I think it’s because I’m curious about people’s stories and, on a deeper level, in a constant search of “how do I do this?” — this being “success.” When I use the word “success”, I don’t necessarily mean someone famous or wealthy (though I did enjoy Jon M. Chu’s Viewfinder and Bill Gates’ Source Code). It can be someone who’s had an unconventional journey (Zarna Garg’s This American Woman), an interesting perspective to share (Alua Arthur’s Briefly Perfectly Human), or a crazy adventure (Kevin Fedarko’s A Walk in the Park). I guess if I look at this list, it makes my definition of “success” more murky — here it seems that I define “success” assuming that if you’ve written and published a memoir, then you’ve done the internal work to be okay, comfortable even, with who you are, enough so to share your story with the world. At my core I want to figure out and understand how people do “it”: How did they get their “happily ever after"? How did they know they were doing the right thing? What do they have that I don’t? I think, if I’m being really honest with myself, I already know the answer, but I still scour memoirs and am drawn to them because I hope to be proven wrong.

The common theme that I’ve noticed, if I were to boil it down to the fundamental unifying characteristic that makes these people “successful”, that allows these people to actually go publish and write their memoirs, whether they are well-known in their industry or a normal person out in the world, is that they just did it. They just did it. They didn’t wait around for permission (or maybe they did but at some point got tired and fed up with waiting). They didn’t wait around for the “perfect” circumstances”. They just did it.

Simple as that. Now it’s not to say there aren’t other circumstances involved, whether that be luck, money, or privilege, but there is a common thread across all of these stories that is a default to action. It’s initiative. It’s a bias to action. I hesitate to call it “grit” because sometimes there’s no set mindset of determination — it simply doesn’t occur to the mind that there are any other paths available other than the one forward. There’s not necessarily this endless back and forth, wondering “should” or “should not”, it’s just done.* There’s not even a why not me? mindset because that thought doesn’t even cross their mind because their main focus is just getting it - whatever “it” is - done. Not doing it perfectly (or at least if they are trying to do it perfectly it’s because they’ve already done it and are refining it to be perfect) but instead fueled by momentum and just doing it. 

*There is a part of me that wonders if some of these memoirs gloss over the mental trials and tribulations because these authors worry they'll sound whiney and bitchy, but personally I'd kind of love that — it'd make me feel less alone in how I feel. Bring on your inner bitch!

If I’m going to be really honest with myself, bias to action is my biggest weakness. I tend to wait around for permission, when I’m never going to get it — the permission I’m waiting for is actually a permission slip from myself to just do it. Sure, the desire and need for permission is tied up in other things (perfection, approval of others, all the things you go to therapy for) but really it’s about just doing it. Who cares if it fails, if you look stupid, if it doesn’t work out? What’s the worst that’ll happen? I’m in a privileged position where I have a food, water, and shelter, so what’s the most that I’ll lose, my ego? If the worst that’ll happen is losing my ego, then pfft! Get over yourself.

My scarcity mindset also worries about losing money and time. Currently I’m in a situation where I’m not spending money (free food, water, and shelter — thank you parents), and I’m trying to remind myself that not earning money is not the same as losing money (lizard brain is screaming, “if you’re not earning money that means the potential earnings can’t invest over time and earn interest and therefore you’re losing money!” Chill, honey.) As for losing time, well, how else would you be spending your time. Job searching? If you have this time where your basic fundamental needs are met (again, food, water, and shelter — Maslow’s hierarchy of needs is met) and no obligations to other humans (child-free but favorite auntie), then what else would you use this time for? This is such a rare and precious opportunity to have unrestricted time…and you don’t even have to worry about suddenly dying from cardiac arrest or being depressed about having a rare cardiac disease! Hahaha. (That specific scenario was a little over a year ago). 

This desire to wait around for permission is something I’ve been conditioned into from childhood (see above, therapy is great!). Over the years that’s built up into a formidable brick wall in front of any path ahead of me, creating this paralyzing fear of starting and a bias for inaction. Yes, it’s understandable as to why I am the way I am now…and.

And, if I were to use my kind, compassionate voice: you know better now. As a child you were doing the best you could with what you knew. Now as an adult you have gone through and chosen so many experiences where you’ve proven to yourself that you do not need to wait for permission. You do not need to seek approval for others. You can break free of and away from the conditioning you grew up with.

Let’s not sit and wallow and simmer in the loophole of agonizing and bemoaning why you are the way you are. You are the way you are — it makes sense. It’s understandable. It doesn’t mean you are a mistake. At that time you were doing the best you could with what you knew in the situation you were in and the information you had. And. And. You know better now. You can make different choices moving forward. You can release and shed this fear of being judged, of being wrong, of making a mistake. You can create a bias to action. You can just do it.

So act. Go. Be that imperfect snowball and gather momentum in whatever way you can. If you get stuck in the process, find a way to pivot and add on, just mishmash it together and forge your way forward. It doesn’t need to be perfect. It just needs to get started.