Tag: childhood

Snow and Me: A Complicated Relationship

Winter is approaching fast, and that means snow is on the way where I live. And snow means a clean split between those shivering with excitement and those groaning in despair.

Snow is weird. You want to paint a happy picture of winter fun? Throw in some snowmen and snowballs and snow forts. Want to paint a picture of a barren wasteland? Take OUT the snowmen and snowballs and snow forts.

Snow is great until it isn’t. Making snow angels and trekking through knee-deep drifts is all well and good until the melt seeps into your pants and you can’t feel your toes anymore. Or your fingers. Or your nose and ears. Hey, look! My pinkie just froze and snapped off! Isn’t this FUN?

Look at this magical winter world
Image by Bonnie Moreland; Public Domain Mark 1.0.

When I was a kid, I loved snow. Snow meant days off school and winter play and running around trying to come up with new ways to use the stuff. I loved playing in it and rolling huge snowmen. Well, more like snow boulders. We would just roll a bunch of big uber-snowballs and leave them scattered across the field. And I have fond memories of watching snow slipping off the tallest tree branches during the thaw. Snow is fun – when you don’t have responsibilities.

Nowadays, I prefer to stay inside and enjoy it from a safe distance.

You see, kids don’t have to drive in snow. Or walk down to the mailbox in it. They might have to shovel the driveway, but pay them in cash or candy and they’re happy enough. Too bad adults can’t pay themselves for cracking their spines lugging shovelfuls of very heavy frozen water. Growing up is a terrible thing, sometimes.

Ah, yes, snow is water. Which means it melts. And that brings on the SLUSH. Nobody ever mentions SLUSH when discussing winter. It’s a wintry wonderland, happy and clean and pretty! And then it all turns to SLUSH. Dirty, half-melted bogs of detritus covering roads and pooling in every yard and gutter. The aftermath of winter.

There are people who never see snow, for whom the concept is a distant fantasy. These people probably enjoy snow very much because they never have to deal with it. Snow is a pleasant image on TV screens and picture books and never, ever interferes with their lives. They can safely imagine what it would be like to be in the snow without having to actually endure it.

SOMEONE has to clean up this mess …
Image by jpctalbot; CC BY 2.0.

Yeah, you grow up and little fun things become big pains. Alas. But, snow IS pretty, I’ll give it that. And freshly fallen snow is one of the purest, cleanest things you can see in the world. And the morning after a snowfall is so quiet and peaceful and contemplative. Or eerie and spooky if you’re so inclined.

To all the people who live in regions where there is snow most, if not all of, the year, hats off to you. You are tougher and more patient than I am. I would say that snow only belongs in regions uninhabited by all life, but since humanity always seems keen on colonizing the most desolate and inhospitable regions on Earth, I guess that bus has long since passed. At least some people know how to make really pretty art out of it.

Snow is just weird. It’s this twisted dichotomy of life and death. Snow-covered landscapes are either joyful, festive scenes or just pits of death. Maybe a person’s changing attitude toward snow is some sort of reflection of our changing nature from childhood into adulthood.

Or maybe we’re all crazy and should just stay inside where it’s warm.

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Title Image: “snowman” by Dan’l Burton; Licensed under CC BY-SA 2.0.

Mind of a Child: Confidence and Growing Up

As a child, I looked at adults with a mixture of awe and envy. Oh, if only I could be like an adult, always knowing the right thing to say and the right thing to do! My parents could do no wrong, my teachers knew everything. Adults made everything better because they knew exactly what to do in every situation.

Then I became an adult.

We don’t know any better as children, do we? Lacking any breadth of experience, we don’t understand that nobody has any real idea what they’re doing. We’re all sort of stumbling through life, learning as we go, getting tossed into the deep end of the pool and working out how to tread water just enough to keep from sinking. It’s equal parts fun and terrifying. We’re all figuring it out together.

And we adults get philosophical about everything. What’s it all about? Why are we here? How can we do right? All the big questions.

Kids are cool. They don’t let deep thoughts and existential angst get in the way of living. They accept what they’re told, but are just innocent enough to ask those piercing questions that puncture our adult pretensions. It is grown-ups who tie themselves into knots trying to justify and rationalize every action they take at every moment of every day. Or maybe that’s just me. Ah, the tortured mind of the intellectual.

In all seriousness, confidence is a good thing. In many ways, kids are more confident than adults. They trust adult authorities because the thought of them being wrong doesn’t enter their minds. They trust things to work out without hesitation. They enjoy life wholeheartedly and unironically.

Confidence is an attitude. It’s not the magic formula to a perfect life, but it sure can help us endure hard times. Why? Because we become willing to work to succeed. If we expect to fail, we’re probably going to. And while failure isn’t something we should be afraid of, is it really healthy to sabotage ourselves? Where would the world be if we didn’t put our best foot forward and give it our all?

Kids give it their all. Childlike enthusiasm is a force of nature. When you see children playing on the playground, don’t you see the sheer grit and determination and lack of hesitation to throw themselves into their play? Kids never stop and have no fear, as many weary parents can attest to.

It’s funny. As children, we want to be adults. As adults, we envy the life of a child. I respect kids. They see the world differently and a little more simply than we clever grown-ups do. Maybe a confident and peaceful attitude comes from simplicity. Simple living, simple comforts, simple enjoyments. Or maybe I’m overthinking things … again.

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