Which is a typically normal state of being.
What might be rather abnormal is going out to take a walk in it.
Twenty degree weather with the wind blowing at 30 miles an hour, so it feels more like negative fifteen. The good news is the sun is shining . . . Not that it’s making much difference.
I pulled on my four layers, two hats, gloves, and a double pair of socks, and set off. My dog likes to go for walks in this kind of weather. Sometimes I like going with him. We set out straight east. The wind often comes from the north when it’s cold like this. I figured east would be our best bet not to get blasted.
Turns out I didn’t figure very carefully.
Actually, the wind was coming out of the northwest. At 30 mph. Meaning I was good to go the whole time I headed eastward, but as soon as I turned back for the house, I met a rather nasty surprise.
It was cold.
And that, my friends, is called an understatement.
I gritted my teeth, tried to convince my four layers to somehow feel more like six, and walked head-on into our lovely 30 mph Nebraska wind. “It might not look pretty,” I mumbled under my breath, “but, darn it, I’m making it back to the house anyway.”
While I was being blasted over the next half mile, I started thinking about how much this looked like my life. Me all hunched over, gritting my teeth, plowing forward while varying degrees of torture explained to me why I should turn around. “It’s too hard. You’re not doing it right. You ought to be more prepared. Someone else would have done this differently, and probably better! You’re never going to make it. It’s all meaningless. Why are you even trying?”
While the sun shone bright and gold and cheerful millions of miles away. Heatless and utterly aloof.
So, what did I do?
I made it back to the house. And sat down at the computer to tell you all how cold it is in Nebraska. How hard the wind blows. How far away the sun is. But I’m sitting next to the heater as I type this. My cheeks are red, but they’re not really frigid anymore. And I’m not feeling any wind at all.
Apparently, I made it. Apparently, frozen fingers and icy eyelashes and 30 mph winds aren’t the end of the story. Apparently, a little opposition doesn’t have to mean giving up after all.
