Groundhog Day

Jeanna GLeave a comment

Have you ever experienced déjà vu? It’s the sense that you’ve experienced something that you haven’t actually experienced before. But maybe the universe is trying to tell you something. Maybe you did experience it, but you did it wrong the first time, and you’re being given a second chance. What was so important about that moment that you’re being made to live it again? What is the impact you’re supposed to make? What should you have done differently the first time around?

Back in college, my buddies and I drove from Penn State to Punxsutawney to witness the strangely fascinating celebration of seeking the meteorological predictions of a groundhog. I was telling my daughter about that trip. and then suggested we watch the movie together. Afterwards, I asked what she would do if she got to live the same day over and over again, and she answered like a normal 10 year old: eat a ton of candy, act crazy, get away with stuff. I, on the other hand, would hopefully take the route that Phil eventually took and become a better person.

Maybe we’re stuck in the same place until we make it better. Maybe we keep running into the same people because we’re supposed to help improve their lives. Maybe we’re not supposed to keep moving on so that we can actually live in the moment. Maybe we get stuck because we keep missing the point.

The days don’t actually repeat themselves like they did for Phil, but sometimes they sure feel like they do, except we continue to get older, and the calendar pages continue to turn. We can reminisce about our younger days, like I obviously like to do, but we can’t actually relive our youth. But let’s just say you woke up and time was repeating itself. Would you know why? Would you know what you had to fix, or who you needed to help in order to move on? And what if you got to pick which day you could live over and over again? What has been your best day? And is that the best you can do? Maybe we all need to be a groundhog for a day and ask ourselves, “When I get pulled into the light, will I be afraid of my own shadow?”

Just Like Riding a Bike

Jeanna GLeave a comment

I loved my 10-speed bike. I rode it to the park, the swim center, my friend’s house. I even rode it to school one evening, without asking permission, to watch my 6th grade crush practice basketball. (I got in a lot of trouble for that one.) Bike riding was my hobby. I loved tearing through town. The best rides were the ones with no destination, the ones on which I could just coast, hands-free, and enjoy the scenery of my beautiful town.

Then my 10-speed got stolen. And then I started dating a guy with a license and a car. And then my best friend got her license and a car. And finally, I got my license. No more bike rides.

Then I went to college and got a bike because campus was huge. But then my bike got stolen.

Later on I moved to Maine and made daily bike trips to the beach, and I was reminded of why I loved it so much. But then my bike got stolen.

Then I had a baby and bike rides weren’t even on my radar. Until…

My daughter and I flew out to visit a childhood friend and her wife in Chicago. They got her a babysitter, and they got me a bike. Together, the three of us tore through the city on a cold November night, stopping to hydrate at the local tap rooms. It was a blast! The sights whizzing by, the wind in my hair, trusting my body to move in ways that I forgot it could. All good things, and all the result of being reminded of how I choose to love life.

Life is full of distractions and we can easily find ourselves out of our elements, and the things we love to do somehow get sidelined as the humdrum takes the field. The good news is that remembering how you love life is just like riding a bike. We can take off where we left off, we just need to start pedaling! It helps to have old friends who remind us of who we are, but how we love life should come as second nature. So get your wheels turning and reminisce about what makes you happy, then change gears, and enjoy the ride!

Snow Day

Jeanna G1 Comment

I’m not from here, but I’ve been here long enough that, when asked, I answer, “Home is North Carolina.” Except when a winter storm is coming. Then my answer is, “I grew up in New England.” It’s like I gain instant street cred (in my head anyway).

Winter Storm Izzy is on her way, and all the Cackalackys are in a tizzy. Buy all the bread and milk that exists! I never really understood the milk part of that equation. If the power goes out, which is to be expected with the amount of predicted ice, who’s going to want to drink sour milk? I’ve got a bottle of wine and a gas grill. All set.

The storm should be arriving Saturday night and continuing through Sunday. Monday is a holiday and Tuesday is a scheduled Teacher Workday, but the kids are still praying for a snow day come Wednesday. Sorry kids, the odds just aren’t in your favor.

And I really am sorry, because the suspense followed by the sweet relief and utter joy that comes with a snow day school cancellation is unparalleled. I vividly remember lying in bed listening to 96.5 TIC*FM, lights off, eyes closed in prayer, practicing my ABCs as I waited for the DJs to make their way through the list of closures. God help your nerves if you tuned in on a letter after your school district! Ok, focus, here we go… Avon, Barkhamsted, Bloomfield, Canton (Yes! Canton is nearby!), Darien, East Granby (Our neighbors! It’s looking good!), East Hartford, East Windsor, Ellington, Enfield (Why so many E’s, God, why??!), Fairfield, Farmington, Glastonbury (G! We’re next!! Please God! Please!), *dramatic pause*… Granby. GRANBY! YESSSSSSS!!!! *Slap* Alarm is off, back to bed. HA! Who am I kidding?! I leap out of bed. Snow pants on. Where are my moon boots?! “Mom! I’ll be back!” And out the door I go. Never has it ever been easier to get out of bed on a weekday morning.

Snow tunnels, snowball fights, igloos, King of the Mountain, catching flakes on our tongues, snowmen, snowmobiles, sledding and tubing. All great, but my personal favorite is lying deep in a snow drift, in the silence only a snowstorm can provide, staring up into the grey, mesmerized by the swirling crystallizations that rosy my cheeks and decorate my eyelashes. All proof that gentle and unique creations can make a world of a difference when they connect.

May the suspension, relief, joy, adventure, and enchantment of a snow day be with you every day.