Can you SWIM when it is snowing?

We've been hearing the local weather-guessers (my friend Alley's pet name for them) telling us time and time again we were going to get snow, and we didn't get any. Today, we got snow, and the day's not over yet.

I began thinking about driving in snow and wondered if it might offer some insight to explore as we begin to learn to SWIM. Have you ever driven in the snow? I mean side-ways falling huge snowflakes that just keep coming down everywhere? I have. My youngest daughter, who was then maybe two years old had a very high fever that we could not get to go down. She was lethargic and refused to eat or drink anything. I decided I had to take her to the doctor.

At that time we lived in Fall Creek and we went to the Lakeside Clinic for our health care, a nice drive "over the river and through the woods" 5 miles away. I piled blankets into the car and headed to towards the clinic with both girls in the car. It was snowing like crazy. You know, that crazy kind of snow that looks like a blender has been turned on and the snow is going every direction at once. You know what I'm talking about, right? There was already about 2-3 inches of snow on the ground by the time we left our house, but it was just powdery, not much ice to worry about.

The visual sensation of all that snow seemed to make time stand still, no matter how far we drove, everything looked the same all around us even though we were moving. I could be focusing on the road in front of me, but the snow offered too much distraction for my eyes and I couldn't see past the snow to keep my eyes on the road very well. It felt hypnotic. I knew where I was, but nothing looked familiar. My odometer said I had driven several miles, but none of the familiar landmarks confirmed those miles driven. They were cloaked in snow or hidden within the snow's swirling skirt of illusion. But I kept driving, even though my eyes did nothing to confirm my progress. At one point I recall feeling sort of dizzy because of all the swirling snow. I did my best to find a spot on the road in front of me and focus on it until I reached that spot. Then I looked for a new spot further down the road to focus on, and so on, until I finally reached the clinic with my precious cargo.

This (driving blind stuff) reminded me of something a friend once shared with me. It was a very wise thing she told me. How do I know this? Because when I first heard it, it sort of pissed me off a little bit. It didn't make any sense at first. But, eventually, I "got it." Here's what she told me: "Act your way to a new way of feeling, don't wait until you feel like acting a new way." Paraphrased in another way, "Fake it until you make it."

I was driving through

Stuff

Not

Observed

Well

There are times we cannot control how well we see things, and thus perhaps observe them incorrectly. How do we handle this type of obstacle? Do we simply wait it out and do nothing? Do we wait until we feel we can see things well enough to know what to do next. Or do we do what we feel we have to do, regardless if we feel like we're making any progress and just keep trusting that odometer that says we've traveled 3 miles, even if it feels like we haven't moved an inch. Do we just keep driving, knowing eventually we will end up where we want to be? I think so.

So, to tie all this up, even when you don't feel like doing that which you know you want to do or know you should do, just do it. Even if you can't immediately see the progress, just keep doing it. Keep faking it until you make it. Because eventually you will make it.

I've dealt with several traumatic incidents in my life. Some of them like to hang out and surprise me once in a while. I could choose to crumble when that happens. I could easily do that. But I have to look around myself and

See

What

Is

Missing

What I usually find is that I am not in physical danger; I have sufficient shelter and food; and I have what I need to live at that very moment. Thus, I find no reason to collapse into a pile of mush when an old trauma rears its pitiful head.