Yesterday the Montréal snow beast was pissed and dumped about 16+ inches of snow on the city. So what did a majority of the city dwellers do? They went about their day as they normally would. The one thing about Montrealers and Canadiens as a whole is, they aren’t afraid of a little cold and snow.

In a show of solidarity to those already out and about in the storm, my wife and I decided to make our way to the home expo taking place at the Olympic Stadium which is within walking distance from our apartment. Actually we had planned to go a while ago, but that first sentence sounded a bit more dramatic. More drama to follow.

Anyway. As we fought our way through the knee deep snow drifts that had planted themselves on the sidewalks, we felt the wind trying to rip our faces off while the snow “sand blasted” our eyeballs. When we reached the end of our journey and opened the doors to the stadium, a wave of relief washed over us. We were now safe from the beast who had the city in it’s grasp.

I removed the icicles that had built up in my beard, my wife took off 5 of the 10 layers of clothing she was wearing and we headed into the expo. We made the rounds, then walked back home. I shoveled the landing and stairs again and then nourished my body with some food for I had felt weak after our heroic adventure to the home expo. After regaining my strength and experiencing a need for some bourbon, I headed back out into the night to witness how other parts of the city were coping.

Even though the weather was a bit undesirable, it was just a typical day for those of us who live in this city. Snow is often welcomed and the people who live here embrace the winter activities that come with it.

Good times.

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Well, it’s December 1, 2019 and it’s -20 degrees celsius which is -4 degrees Fahrenheit for those keeping track. As a matter of fact, it’s been bone chilling cold in our area of the world for quite awhile. How cold you ask? So cold that your nostrils stick together while taking a deep breath and you begin to turn blue—not from the cold, but because you panic and forget you can breath through your mouth. So cold that you keep moving for fear your joints will freeze up and you’ll be frozen in place much like the tin man until being rescued by Dorothy. So cold that when you press your tongue against a cold pole you’re not going anywhere anytime soon so grab your phone and read this article while you’re waiting for additional help.

Winter has a tendency to repeatedly punch us in the face until all we want to do is stay in bed under a pile of blankets and wait it out. Let’s face it, we all get our tongue stuck to a pole at different points in our life. This is not unique to winter. We’re humans. We feel burned out. We feel hopeless. We feel sad. We feel stuck. We feel. We’re humans.

I find that most of the time the only way to get past this is to get moving. I need to do something that I don’t want to do. I need to do something to keep me off social media. I need to do something to keep me from watching TV and man do I love watching TV. I need to do something creative even if the outcome is shit. I need to do something, anything other than standing here with my tongue stuck to a pole.

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The other day I was restless. I decided to walk to the mailbox which is 2 kilometers from our house/cottage. Don’t ask me to explain why the mailbox is so far away. If you’re interested read this.

The rain had let up and the area surrounding us looks very different after a rain. I prefer to walk after a rain. What was familiar seems different and the silence makes your ears hurt. There is an eerie sense of mystery that is not present when the weather is calm. I have made this trip in all types of weather, the landmarks and scenery are always the same, but somehow they tell a different story each trip.

Every trip to the mailbox I notice something different. Maybe it’s the weather, the season or the mindset I’m in that forces me to pay more attention or just wonder. Nonetheless, the trip is never the same.

Our daily routines have a tendency to suffocate us. We no longer pay attention to what is around us. We simply press play and go.

Next time you’re stuck, press pause, take in what’s around you, then resume play.

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I try not to dwell on the past, although I am not always successful. To obsess over scoring the winning touchdown in the high school state championship game or winning the hot dog eating contest at the state fair can be exhausting and depressing. Just to be clear I did not participate in either of those activities.

I do, however, believe it’s okay to acknowledge the past while realizing things and people change. If you’re like me, you’ve aged. Sorry to be the spoiler, but aging is part of living. We can no longer be the people we once were. We’re smarter, wiser, calmer and in most cases we move a bit slower.

So what am I getting at? I’m not 100% sure, but hear me out. When I’m out exploring I will often find a spot to sit. I’ll make up short stories about who came to this spot before me. How many people have been here and what was their life like when they visited. Did they come to this spot for a vacation? Did they take refuge here while trying to survive? Where they alone? In a group? With family?

Our past experiences have made us who we are today. To dwell on our our past experiences is a fleeting attempt at trying to change what we’ve become. Gloating about who we were does not change who we are.

There comes a time when we need to move on. A time to enjoy who and where we are so that the stories written by a future explorers will end well.

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