Category: storm

Winter Nostalgia: Childhood Memories and Change

Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening

By Robert Frost

Whose woods these are I think I know.   

His house is in the village though;   

He will not see me stopping here   

To watch his woods fill up with snow.   

My little horse must think it queer   

To stop without a farmhouse near   

Between the woods and frozen lake   

The darkest evening of the year.   

He gives his harness bells a shake   

To ask if there is some mistake.   

The only other sound’s the sweep   

Of easy wind and downy flake.   

The woods are lovely, dark and deep,   

But I have promises to keep,   

And miles to go before I sleep,   

And miles to go before I sleep.

Snow drifts as far as the eye can see. Entire windblown fields are smooth, perfectly white and devoid of any tracks, human or otherwise. The wind beats the side of my apartment building and the smell of wood stoves fills the air. The rumble of plows interrupts the serenity. Soon, the landscape, as fresh as off the pages of a Robert Frost poem, will change. It will be tarnished brown by the taint of people again. We’re getting a “real” winter in New England. By “real”, I mean this is how every winter used to be when I was a kid.

For whatever reason, Winters aren’t what they used to be. Yes, I know this sounds like the musings of an old man, one who starts with, “Back in my day”. But I’m only 60, and there is no question that winters are not what they were. With rare exception, Winters for the last 20 or so years in New England have been hit or miss. Snowfall levels, despite some large storms each year, have consistently fallen. Despite some periods of extreme cold, average temperatures have risen consistently. Here in NH, snow amounts vary. They increase the farther North you go. However, even the Granite State doesn’t get what it used to. Massachusetts can go entire winters without any significant snowfall.

I hate snow now. I’m old, and I get cold easily. Shoveling kills my back. I hate driving in it. It just makes me want to go to Florida with the snowbirds. The years have changed my love of winter. As a kid, I loved it.

The first thing I think of when I think of snow as a kid was the Snow Day. They were a treat. In the late 60’s and early 70’s, canceling school was not what it is today. Today, the mere threat of a storm will close schools. Then, the school system did everything they could not to. Snow coming? Maybe we’ll let them out early. Snowed overnight? Better put the chains on the tires and wear your boots. My school was on a hill. If the Bus feasibly climbed that hill, then school was on.
One of the most nerve-wracking experiences then was waking up to snow. We waited patiently for the local TV channel or the radio station to call off school. Even when surrounding towns closed, often my town didn’t. Sometimes I would get up and wait with my Mother for the announcement. Other times, I would listen to the radio with fingers crossed. More often than not, I would end up going to school in the snow. Trudging up the hill to school was a nightmare. I would fall constantly in the really bad stuff. The insult was added to injury. The kids on the bus mocked me as the bus struggled up the steep hill to school.
I was bullied, did I mention that?

The days when school was called? That was the best feeling ever. I would go back to bed for a while. Alternatively, I would get up and watch some daytime TV on one of the 5 available channels. Then, I would load up on sugary cereal. If the snow had stopped already, I would shovel our driveway. Our driveway was very wide and long. Looking back, it was a hell of a big job. My young body could take it, but I would be sore after. But I had no time for pain. There was money to be made.

I had several neighbors that were loyal to me. One thing you don’t see after a snow storm today is kids with shovels over their shoulders. They used to knock on doors. When I was a kid, I had competition for my driveways. So, I had to be prompt. I also had to demand loyalty from my customers. These were the same people whose lawns I mowed in the summer and whose leaves I raked in the fall. I took good care of my neighbors. I was actually quite enterprising in those days. I would revel in making $ 6, maybe $ 10, a driveway!
The shoveling would sometimes take all day. But if I was done early, there was sledding and tobogganing to do. My hometown had several great hills within walking distance. My friends and I would try to hit them all. Looking back, what I wouldn’t do for the energy that I once had! Going downhill at breakneck speed is thrilling. Walking back up that hill several times took quite a toll on us. Despite being tired, we kept going. Fitness was stressed back then, we didn’t sit in front of screens all day. We were outside doing things. We only stopped for candy cigarettes, PB&Js, and hot chocolate in the winter. In the summer, we drank water from the hose.
Many kids today won’t understand being outside all of the time. Our parents knew that by being outside, we would not only be active, but bonds were created. Good habits were formed. An appreciation of Nature was obtained. As a child, I fondly remember the ethereal silence of the woods after a fresh snowfall. It was only interrupted by a falling branch or the movement of wildlife. I remember those rare moments when I felt warm despite the harsh cold. I felt incredibly at peace with the space around me. The sweat under my jacket was warm and comforting. The world was at peace. The blanket of snow had somehow muted the ugliness of the world. It was just for a moment.

I sometimes experience that same peace when I shovel. I find myself looking around. I am keenly aware of how uncomfortable the weather has made my old body. Yet, I marvel at the tranquility of a major snowfall and find peace in it. I wish that I loved winter as I used to. My youthful enthusiasm has been replaced by cynicism. I forget about the beauty and dread the cleanup. I fret over upcoming heating bills instead of appreciating one of New England’s most beautiful seasons.

I think of going to Florida, where it’s everything I hate: hot, flat, and full of bugs. I don’t think I can ever leave New England, the land of the true 4 seasons. Instead of running from winter, maybe it’s time to embrace it. I’m confronting everything else in my life right now, maybe I can challenge my hatred of winter. After all, isn’t the dark of winter metaphorical to the approach of death? By challenging the cold, and in particular my disdain for it, maybe I’m challenging my aging mindset.

Shadow Work

My mind knows all my weak spots, replays failures like favorite songs, questions my worth at midnight, turns memories into weapons. I fight battles no one sees, lose sleep to thoughts that never rest. The hardest war isn’t outside, it’s surviving a brain that refuses to be kind to its own heart.
Ticus Writes

I’m in a somewhat good place overall. I have been working hard on myself. I have been summoning all of my questionable inner resolve to make significant improvements in my life. I have made considerable progress in self-awareness. I am unabashedly accountable about myself and my actions.
I suspect that many men my age simply accept who they are, peccadillo’s and all. It is tempting to think, “the hell with everyone, let them handle me as I am in all my weirdness.’ Me, I’m not willing to go down that road. As a Mason, I believe in the Fraternity’s emphasis on continuous improvement until we advance to another plane of existence. Rough stone to polished. That belief supports my desire to get myself right, even if it culminates with my last day on this planet.

For all of the effort put in, it all goes out the window on days like yesterday. I really spiraled out. The worst part of it is that I saw it coming. Yet, I still self-sabotaged myself. In a very embarrassing and expensive manner.

Last week my good friend and Masonic Brother asked me to do some snow plowing for him. He is away on a short Florida vacation. He is a tremendously hard worker and needs some R & R. He asked me to come along as he managed his only account. It’s a dental practice. He wanted me to get a feel for it. I’ve plowed before, the job seemed easy. I told him I would do it.
That night I had a panic attack. My mind bombarded me with all of the reasons why I can’t do it. How I would damage the truck or some property. The idea of plowing it with cars there suddenly terrified me. It was irrational, it was annoying, and it was typical of what my mind does when I smoke weed. The next day, no longer stoned, I was still a little anxious but more confident.
Good thing, because it snowed the night before.
My anxiety flared. Despite that, I got myself out of the house and did the job. I went to his house, drove the truck to the job, and did a fine job on the lot. I chunked up a bit of grass, even left a few tire prints, but nothing terrible or costly. I felt better about myself and my abilities, but I was still anxious. I knew in my heart that I was about to self-sabotage myself.
As I pulled into his long driveway I realized that I would have to pull the truck in. I had found it backed in. So I searched (panicking the whole time), for a spot to turn around and back in. Against my better judgment, I pulled into a spot. I was immediately stuck. As I tried to get myself out, the truck slid sideways into a previously unnoticed embankment.
I knew that I was screwed. And I knew that it could have been avoided by listening to my better instincts. But they were nowhere to be found. I had done it, the self-fulfilling prophecy of being so afraid of Fucking Up that I do exactly that.
It’s resolved now, but it cost my buddy, who coordinated the removal while driving to Florida, quite a bit. I was so upset about that. I went home and sat in utter despair, beating the ever-loving shit out of myself. All I could come up with was.
“Why do I continue to do things like this?”
“Why do I have such anxiety about something I am able to do?”
“Why did I make that reckless move that caused all of this?”

It was bad. Despite my friend’s reassurance that it wasn’t a big deal, I was in a bad place. For a brief and terrifying moment, I revisited the idea of eating a bullet. I just wanted to end this shit already. Even if 100 people were in my apartment, they couldn’t convince me otherwise. I felt like the biggest fuck-up ever born.
It was at that moment that I decided that I needed to step up my quest for self-improvement.

I discovered an article about Shadow Work. Shadow work involves acknowledging and exploring the hidden parts of ourselves. It helps heal the parts that we reject and repress into our unconscious minds. It involves confronting and integrating these repressed emotions, desires, and traits to foster personal growth and self-awareness. It is rooted in Jungian psychology. In this context, the shadow self represents the darker aspects of our personality that we often avoid. The goal is to help individuals reconnect with and embrace all parts of their identity. As it turns out, there are apps for it.

I spent most of last night reading up on Shadow Work. As a Psychology major in college, I enjoyed the Personality theory of Jung. Jung expanded and broadened the narrow constraints of Freudian personality theory and Shadow work is a worthy extension of his theories.
I am going to give the app a try. I have nothing to lose and everything to gain by doing so. I have to do it.
Because there is no way that I am going to continue to go through the agonizing, self-flagellating, monstrous tearing down of myself that I engaged in yesterday. I simply can’t do it anymore. I know that I am better than this and I owe it to myself to find the way to fix this.

Where are the shovels?

Helicopter parenting has reached a new level.

The other day I read a fascinating, yet disturbing study. According to a survey conducted by Intelligent, an online magazine focused on student life, 19% of Gen Z job seekers have brought their parents to job interviews.
While I can certainly understand that jobseekers may feel nervous or anxious during interviews, bringing parents to job interviews is generally perceived as unprofessional and, dare I say, immature. It may reflect poorly on the jobseeker’s preparedness and independence.
Isn’t it important for job seekers to demonstrate their ability to work independently and make decisions on their own? A job is a rite of passage, and every job you take, and the hopefully increased responsibilities earned through accumulated experience makes you a stronger and more capable employer. While I can only speak for myself, I know that starting a new job can be overwhelming and even terrifying, but employers know that and it is all a test of your resolve and dedication to growing professionally. Everything is a test. Bringing Mommy to the interview is not going to help you pass it.

Not shockingly, 39% of employers admitted going above and beyond to not hire recent college graduates for roles they are qualified for in favor of older workers, a new survey found.
The survey uncovered many reasons why older applicants are preferred — in addition to Gen Z jobseekers bringing mom and dad to interviews.
One in five employers say that recent college graduates are “unprepared” for interviews — and are often unprofessional.
Fifty-three percent of employers surveyed said that recent college graduates struggle with eye contact.
50% said they ask for unreasonable compensation.
47% said they don’t dress appropriately for interviews.
21% said they refuse to turn their cameras on for virtual interviews.
Additionally, 61% said they are frequently late to work.
59% claimed they often miss deadlines.
53% noted that they are frequently late to meetings.

Diane M. Gayeski, a professor of strategic communications at Ithaca College, suggested that these behaviors aren’t entirely their fault — a lot of it is circumstantial. Personally, I do give some leeway to the COVID epidemic and the impact it had on Education and socialization in general. But it started much farther back. I need to look no further than my own childhood compared to how I raised my own kids.
I am Gen X. We were named that because they didn’t know what to call us. We defied all definition. We were tough, resourceful and resilient. We were latchkey kids. Some of us raised ourselves. We were always outside.We knew how to fight, and how to deal with it when we lost. We learned to stand up for ourselves because nobody else would. We were taught that lessons came from Black eyes, skinned knees and hurt feelings. We learned how to work. That having a job sucked but if you wanted money you had better have one. Our parents prepared us for life. They told us that life is tough, cruel, merciless, and unfair but to go and make the most of it. And we did. Our parents were there for us, but they were not our friends.
Fast forward to today. Years of “Participation trophies”, and countless campaigns designed to not make anyone feel bad, combined with Parents who somehow are afraid to discipline their children and instead want to be their friends. Parents schedule and plan “Play-dates” instead of letting their kids learn how to make friends.
If I could pick one thing that has derailed today’s youth to the point of no return; parents refuse to let their kids fail at anything. Nothing teaches you more than failure does. The lessons and accompanying wisdom gained can only come from disappointment, embarrassment, and heartbreak. It can’t be presumed, imitated, intimated, or faked. In order to rise strong from the ashes, you must first crash to the ground. I understand that it is happening out of love, but no matter how you slice it, sheltering children from the world will only make them reluctant and unprepared to enter it.

The study further found the following, all of which demonstrate the damage done by not teaching our kids old-fashioned concepts such as promptness, dressing well, making eye contact and having a firm handshake, and of possessing strong communication skills. Think they’re outdated, old-fashioned and irrelevant? Not to employers. Here are the employer observations on Gen Z attitudes.

Fifty-eight percent said Gen Z jobseekers get offended too easily and are unprepared for the workforce in general.
63% said they are entitled.
57% believed they lack professionalism.
55% said they don’t respond well to constructive feedback.
52% claimed they have poor communication skills.
Of those surveyed, 47% admitted that they had fired a recent college graduate.
46% even said they are willing to hire an older employee who is overqualified for the job just to avoid working with someone younger.
The list of reasons these hiring professionals gave for avoiding Gen Z hires is a long one.

Here is one great example of the difference between Gen X and today. If you live in an area that sees snow in the Winter, ask yourself how many kids do you see with shovels during a snowstorm hustling to make money off of their neighbors? If not, substitute pushing a lawnmower?
Almost none.
The ability to recognize opportunity, financial or otherwise is critical. Being willing to work for it is increasingly rare. It isn’t about money, it’s about being resourceful and the independence that earning your own money gives you. I don’t believe our youth understands the difference between expecting and taking vs earning. It is part of becoming an adult, in an age of perpetual childhood.

The storm

the comforting pat on the head

Just when I thought the storm couldn’t get scarier, the Tornado Watch alert blasted from my phone. I have never been a big fan of Thunderstorms, I’m perfectly ok in admitting that I’m terrified of them, but this is my first Florida T-Storm and it is a beast. In NH, they can be severe but they pass quickly. Here, they come on strong and stick around way too long.

Today’s storm is a continuation of a serious system that came through last night. It flashed and boomed for hours. Just when we thought it was over another wave came through. It being my first real Florida storm, I was shocked at its intensity. But as uncomfortable as I was, and am right now, I am not upset or fearful. My dog, however, is not faring so well.

Sammy is not a shy dog and he is adaptable in most situations. He even tolerates gunshots when I am doing target practice in the yard. Thunder brings out absolute terror in him. It is loud to us, I cannot even begin to imagine what it sounds like to him with his advanced hearing. In addition, dogs (not nearly as brilliantly as cats BTW) can detect changes in atmospheric pressure. All of these factors combined equal a prolonged state of terror for the little guy.

I have been comforting him the best I am able. I have to restrain him by his harness but I do so without holding his neck. Between last night and this current wave, I have been petting and reassuring my wonderful little guy for hours. Occasionally he takes a second from the panicked behavior and turns to look at me. I can’t say for sure but he seems to be grateful for it.

Lean on me, buddy. I got you.

I am logging this today because it occurs to me that the time spent, as unpleasant as it may be, providing and comfort to another living, breathing, feeling creature with a soul, is a cherished moment. To give love unconditionally without seeking something in return is time well spent.

I only wish people felt as inclined to help each other in those moments of fear and uncertainty.