Snow

The first daytime snow here in my neighborhood. It occurs to me that my admiration of the water crystals falling this morning may well turn to dread by the end of this new month. Millions of these ice crystals become very heavy on the shovel.

 

How fascinating each individual thing in life can be when it is newly perceived. I really look at it. I admire its special characteristics. Over time this awareness fades into complacency. In the case of multiple objects which are the same, complacency can turn to aggravated boredom. The human mind, driven still by animal defenses, turns off to the commonplace and nonthreatening. Familiarity breeds contempt.

 

Today is World AIDS Day. Like the first flakes of snow, the early victims of the HIV virus fell quietly. The attention of health systems was aroused when the number of cases escalated and popped up all around the globe. Early fascination and horror at this new disease prompted aggressive attention to its symptoms, causes, mechanisms of action. The flurry of dying patients turned to a blizzard in the early 1990s in the U.S..

 

We have become accustomed to AIDS as a reality of life all over the planet. Science has neutralized the virus, not eliminated it. The ho-hum of daily vigilance, HIV testing and education has become an entrenched part of health care systems everywhere. Like late-winter snows, AIDS is simply an unpleasant fact of life.

 

Humanist practice, as I experience it, aspires to keep the awareness of the first snowflakes in all aspects of everyday life. Making the old new is a acquired skill. It is real-life resurrection of the mind. Through meditation and honest reflection, the minutia of daily life can be seen with clear and enthusiastic eyes. Appreciating life as it is is a first step to this awareness. The rest is hard work, but very worthwhile.