Shoveling

Just shoveled out from a snow storm here in Boston. Uncovering concrete pavement, wooden stairs and asphalt driveway. All man's work concealed relentlessly. Large gentle flakes, composed of millions of various crystal formations. Pure whiteness cleaning smoggy city air. Breathing is sharp, clean, invigorating. 

Those who groan about New England weather often sound like the customer at a restaurant whose steak is overcooked. A bit whiny in the great scheme of life and the Universe. But I do not begrudge the person who aches all over after shoveling eighteen inches of snow from a long stretch of sidewalk or driveway. It is hard work, especially for older and stringier muscles.

My secret to enjoying Winter is enjoying Winter's work: Using my chores to appreciate what exactly I am doing in relation to myself, society, my environment and the Universe. My own body benefits from the work, if it is done consciously and carefully with the right tools. I benefit human society by making a clear and safe path for pedestrians to travel off the city street. I pile the snow where it will thoroughly water mt garden for the upcoming Spring burst of life. I clear down to pavement and stair tread to avoid using salt or other chemicals. I learn my place in the gravity of the Universe in the snow, the wind and the sharp cold. 

This is one small part of what I call practice. Bringing full awareness to every activity erases drudgery. It is all practice at maintaining that full awareness throughout wakeful life. It is intentional thinking. It is using my human mind in concert with my human body. It is relating to the elements and my fellow shoveler. This is not religion. This is living.