Living in a Ground Blizzard

A couple months ago I got caught in my first ground blizzard. Driving home to S’s acreage started with calm, blue skies as I left town, but by the time I was about ten miles from home I could see no more than 20 feet in front of me. No snow was coming from above, but the wind that was blowing many many miles an hour blew the dry new snow that covered many many acres of cornfields lining the country roads - creating treacherous and blinding driving conditions. All I could see were the yellow and white lines of the road for about a carlength in front of me. It was broad daylight and blue skies above me, but on ground level there was no visibility. I put on my flashers, asked siri to navigate me home, so I would know where to turn and crept home, thankful that few others were on the road.

A few weeks earlier S had told me that she doesn’t see me in her future.

I took this once I had turned on to gravel

As I drove that day, gripping the stearing wheel, seeing nothing beyond a few yards ahead of me, I couldn’t help but see the parallel between this drive and my life at the moment - only knowing what to expect one day at a time - as I tried to navigate the storm of heartbreak and uncertainty. By the time I turned into the driveway the wind had calmed and it was a lovely sunny afternoon. Big blue sky held white puffy clouds scattered liberally above. I wanted to believe that this symbolized the promise of a bright future emerging from the bleakness of heartache.

once I had arrived

I tend to lean toward optimism. If I had to survive in a jungle, I wouldn’t. Instead of the sight of a tiger triggering my fight, flight or freeze mechanism, I would walk toward her believing that her twitching tail meant that she wanted to be my friend.

“You think it’s true because you want it to be true!” An ex told me, frustrated when I was insisting it would be OK to cross a property clearly marked with No Tresspassing signs.

I think that may be what happened between S and me. I’d be annoyed by, amused by or ignore what wasn’t working, and let our care for each other, shared values and frequent laughter overshadow the problems that we had. S on the otherhand would survive quite handily in the jungle, all of her senses alert for the dangers around every turn in the path.

I’m afraid that our society is a little too much like me in this terribly troubled time we are living in.

I’ve been thinking a lot about denial lately. How it has led to a number of tragedies and heartbreaks in my personal life and how it is playing out in our politics and culture. I’ve also related the ground blizzard blindness to these times when we don’t know from one day to the next - really one hour to the next - what the Felon in Chief will do, how it will impact us and why the damned GOP continue to follow his lead.

I just subbed in a HS literature class where they are reading Night¹ by Elie Wiesel. It’s the story of his experiences as a Hungarian Jew, surviving the Holocaust. It’s very well written and brutal. Denial features prominently in the first chapter. He paints a clear picture of how people caught up in their day to day lives can poo-poo away the real dangers encroaching. Ignoring inconvenient truths to continue on with life as normal.

In 1942 all of the foreign Jews were expelled from the village, taken away in cattle cars.(Wiesel p.6) The remaining Jews cried as they were taken but they were soon forgotten, with rumors saying they were taken to work elsewhere and were happy. A friend of Eisel’s miraculously escaped and returned to tell of the horrors he had witnessed once the train had crossed into Poland and the Gestapo took control. Everyone figured he was just crazy. In the spring of 1944 the village got the wonderful news that things were going well on the Russian Front. The villagers were convinced that the Germans would be defeated and there was no way Hitler could get to them…”if he even wants to.” some said. (Wiesel p.8)

Please let’s not let that be us.

I tend to find comfort in the various sources such as Jay Kuo and Jess Craven, who spell out what is happening and create a positive twist. I understand that their goal is to keep hope alive so everyone doesn’t just run to the liquor store and crawl into bed with netflix, a big bowl of chips and a bottle. (Dang! That actually sounds good.) But I worry sometimes that too many of us will take too much comfort in the fact that there are positive spins. That we will decide others are assuring that the potential horrors of authoritarianism, climate disasters and/or WWIII are being kept at bay.

Seridipitously, I just listened to the tail end of an interview that the U.S. historian Heather Cox Richardson did with Timothy Snyder. He is another historian who has written on authoritarianism throughout history and the world. They spoke of what people can do in this moment. He said what I have heard many others say,

“Do what you can do. You don’t have to do it all.” If everyone shows up in some little way, regularly, the momentum will grow. Small things count, like small talk about how the current situation is impacting you, hugs, eye rolls. He spoke of the power of cooperation which brings hope which brings more cooperation. If we engage in positive cycles we will feel powerful, which makes us more powerful.

I admit, my own situation: needing to find an apartment in town, working a new job, moving, not having internet for a stretch, riding my own emotional rollercoaster, has hindered my ability to be involved, but I’m emerging from my personal ground blizzard, to reengage with the national/world blizzard (aka shitstorm).

My first step is writing this.

My next step will be to go to a No Kings Rally this Saturday. JOIN US won’t you? And while you are there look around for those who you can connect with, or where you might find some energizing action to plug into and bring more strength and joy into the struggle. Timothy Snyder said that lightness can stretch just as far in the opposite direction as darkness can. Let’s give lightness a big shove this Saturday March 28th. You can find a rally near you here.

1. Wiesel, Elie. Night. Penguin, 2006.