I am learning to see the lesson in just about everything—to do as Stephen Covey taught, and “seek first to understand.” Every winter in Oregon, I have to contend with my very East Coast/Midwest approach to the snow (when it comes) versus a more West Coast approach. To be honest, it is a serious struggle for me and often reveals my lack of sensitivity. This season has been no different.
I grew up walking uphill both ways to school in the snow (somewhat literally). I love driving in the snow. I have little fear of snow. Rather I have a great appreciation for it. I used to love the snow—other than having to shovel the driveway repeatedly. In the last eight years, I have come to despise even the thought of snow. School cancelations. Canceled practices. Delays—long delays—driving. Overall panic before the first flake falls. The thought of snow has a negative effect on my attitude. It plays bumper cars with my well-centered fitness.
Last night (Tuesday) was no exception. We got our first real appreciable snowfall (from an East Coast/Midwest perspective). But, it was what happened before the snow that most challenged my well-centeredness.
Two things pushed me over the edge, so to speak. First, at a meeting at the high school for parents of my son’s wrestling club, I learned that the boy’s varsity basketball game was cancelled (the athletes were at the school and dressed ready to compete) and the club was told to cancel practice and send the boys home. Snow was coming, but it had yet to start in our area. Granted some areas had already started to accumulate snow, but…. The second thing occurred when I went to pick my son up from a middle school group at church. Because of the parents’ meeting, I arrived early and planned to work on my computer until it ended at 8:30. Just before 8:00, kids started passing by me calling their parents to pick them up early because the “roads are bad”. Mind you, I had just driven on these roads and at worst there was a mix of snow and rain. The roads in the area were fine. In my mind, it did not seem that 30 minutes would make a dramatic difference in road safety—especially since many parents might already be on route to the church. I am embarrassed to admit that this set my attitude in a negative spin.
Last night, I went from finding the local attitude toward snow frustrating to being infuriated. Thankfully, I have been working on being positive and sticking to my growth plan. I am acutely aware that my attitude shapes my attitude. So, I took this as an opportunity to really consider what is going on here. I realized that this is not a matter of people not having sufficient experience driving in the snow. It is not a matter of communities avoiding investing in snow equipment because it snows so infrequently. It occurred to me that it is a matter of learned fear and ignorance.
I thought about what was going on, and I came to the conclusion that this fear (rational or irrational) of snow is passed on to kids by parents, educators, and other educators in their lives. Fear is a natural function of our brains to protect us. Our minds are wired for self-preservation. This should lead to caution, however, not avoidance. Snow, after all, is dangerous after it falls, not before.
I get frustrated over the panic that ensues before the snow falls here. I am troubled by preemptive cancelations of school and events because of “predicted” winter weather. I struggle with the accidents and delays that occur because of minor winter weather.
I am beginning to understand, though. This very serious emotional panic and psychological fear of winter weather that seems irrational to the person raised in the Northeast and Midwest is quite rational in the mind of people raised in the Northwest because the people have been taught to think this way. I don’t know if may people here in Portland can tell you why they are afraid to drive in the snow, but I suspect that it has been passed on to them.
This posting isn’t really about snow or how one should respond to it—patience and persistence can be learned by winter driving. Rather it is, simply, about fear and where it comes from.
Fear to a certain extent is a good thing. It keeps us safe. Fear is not good, however, when is shackles us. When we are immobilized by fear, all progress is halted. This is why we use the metaphor, “frozen with fear”. When fear is allowed to, it paralyzes us and prevents us from acting. Healthy fear allows one to proceed with caution. Unhealthy fear stymies us. A lack of fear brings harm to us.
There are three types of drivers in the snow (i.e., three approaches to fear). There is the driver of the SUV who winds up in the ditch because (s)he thinks the car can go through anything. This driver forgets that the all-wheel-drive can help you go, but it can still lose control and will slide when you try to stop. These drivers are careless. Then, there is the driver who freaks out over the very sight of the first snowflake. Rather than learning to deal with the conditions, they allow their fears to get the better of them. Rather than stay home when they feel uncomfortable, however, they go out and drive slow, use the brakes in appropriately, don’t allow proper stopping distance, etc. In other words, that never adapt appropriately to the conditions. They never overcome the fear. Finally, there is the driver who understands the hazard and the risks to driving in the snow and, therefore, takes the appropriate precautions. These drivers make sure that the car is in good working condition. These drivers refresh themselves as to how the car will react in the snow (I always test my car in the snow by breaking hard and accelerating when I first enter the street and in safe conditions like a parking lot. I let the car slide and practice my reaction. I know that my response on the road has to be natural and reflexive.) These drivers are not without fear, per se. Rather that are prepared for what might come.
Such is life. We need to ignore the voices that tell us we have to be afraid. We need to go forward in life with a cautionary enthusiasm for what lies ahead. Let fear direct you, but don’t let it control you or confine you.
I love driving in the snow. My senses are heightened, and there is a certain adrenaline rush. Fear is replaced with challenge. I know what to do. I trust my vehicle. I trust my training. All that is left is to enjoy the ride.
Snow is beautiful. It is meant to be enjoyed. So is life. Embrace it. Enjoy it. Carpe momento!
Be safe, but don’t be frozen in fear.