I love snow. And this week has reminded me of this slightly forgotten fact.
It’s felt like balm for the soul.
I literally have not stopped GRINNING from the moment I step foot outside the door. It’s become a pure subconscious reaction to seeing this white stuff about the place. There’s something so magical and healing about watching the entire city turn into kids. And seeing kids actually be kids. This felt like Soul Balm too. No iPhones or computer screens to be seen; just any bit of plastic something you could find to perch your arse on and slide down a hill. My favourite sight was seeing someone hurtling down a tarmac slope wedged in a saucepan.
With the snowy weather has come a bunch of surfacing grief and trauma too. Me and my Scandinavian roots are something I am proud of, but something I don’t really think of that often. At least at the moment. So, with this dump of snow, came a dump of realisations of all that I’ve missed, lost, wish (and wished) for, and experienced in relation to this place. I felt homesick too. Homesick for Norway – a place where I hold a tonne of fond memories. But now these once fond memories feel very tainted with pain, grief and trauma. I suddenly, for the first time properly in ten months, grieved and felt anger for my dad. He’s alive, but it’s a very long story (aren’t they always?), and I felt a deep grief for my dear Farfar who sadly died back in November last year. The separation from my family felt ever present, but still ever-needed. No matter how needed it is though, the heartbreak still runs deep.
The amazing thing though was that all these emotions and traumatic memories/trauma states that arose, they felt bizarrely manageable. Rather than feeling terrified of the intensity and flooding these feelings can bring, I was able to really feel them and give them a voice. I simply stood outside, my eyes opened, my racing mind eased and my heart sung. It always does but it felt different and stronger this week. I felt like I constantly found my own metaphors in this week of white stuff:
With the giant snowflakes falling came a soothing and joyful air. With the pristine and perfect beauty that a grungy gcity became, so did a faith of transformation and a reminder that things can change so much. With the tranquility and glistening hills of untouched white, came a stronger connection to the stillness in my heart, bringing with it a stillness in my mind whilst pottering in the snow.
Along with these memories that surfaced were a bunch of really fond and untainted (ish) ones too. Of months spent living in New Zealand, snowboarding in every inch of daylight that wasn’t spent in the kitchen of the cafe I was working in. It was like beautiful resourcing that just happened naturally – connecting to all the adventures and fun that has come, and is still to come, in my life. After a month of feeling deep within the world of Chronic Fatigue, it was such a relief to feel these memories surface in my body too. I could literally feel myself flying down those mountains: wind in my hair, powder flying in my face and my body feeling so ALIVE and full of strength. I’ve held on tight to this memory and its energy for those moments I’ve felt lost and lethargic. This week’s main adventure was an attempt to snowboard on a skateboard I’d found without any wheels…it didn’t work quite as well as I had imagined. I mainly fell on my arse. But, it’s the fun that counts.
Nature is my favourite place to be alone. But it is also my favourite place to be with friends. A feeling that I found hard to feel was the sadness/loneliness of not having friends around me that were up for snowball fights and adventures. This kinda hurt. Friends can hold different roles in different places, and for me I am yet to find those that are up for getting their knees muddy and their faces freezing in outdoor expeditions here. Instead it’s always me (and sometimes my good friend Maurice, my bike) going solo. I love this so so much and is my chosen thing at the moment, but I just believe in balance too. It’ll come: it’s not that far off.
Nature is where I’ll head when I feel in need of nurturance, support and grounding. It’s my place of refuge, safety and fun, and it always has been. All this helps by the truck load when working with anxiety and ptsd, and any other aspect of life too. However, the shed load of snow this week seemed to take this to another level. And it was wonderful.
The snow is beginning to just be scattered along the sidelines of the roads but it feels like little reminders of the beauty that’s just been.