There are two types of people in this world: snow angels and snow crabs.
Snow angels embrace the snow. They eagerly anticipate its coming, stocking up on hot chocolate and brownie mix. They get out their snow gear–and they have a ton of it–so they can be ready for snowball fights and romantic walks in winter wonderland. For them, snow is full of opportunities. It’s a welcome and well-loved friend.
But all that snow just makes snow crabs, well - crabby. They complain about how messy it looks after the first day. They gripe about the fact that schools are closed and they can’t get to work. They mope about not being able to get to the gym. They whine that they’re cold. For them, snow is something to be simply endured until it goes away.
I admit it–I’m a snow crab. The foot of snow blanketing central Virginia has not made me happy. It’s screwed up my carefully planned agenda and caused me to rearrange my priorities. It’s forced me to think differently about how to accomplish what I need to get done for my clients, colleagues and family. It’s required me to find new tools and new people on whom to rely. It’s made me slow down (gasp!) and think about what I’m doing and how I’m doing it.
But really, is that all bad? Most people rarely take the time to examine what they’re doing and how they’re doing it. In our rush to get things done, we don’t make time to really listen, learn and absorb. But that listening, learning and absorbing is critical to creative ideas and transformational thinking. It’s essential for bringing value to our relationships, whether they be with clients, classmates, coworkers or even family.
I hear we’re going to get wallopped with another snowstorm this weekend. This time, I’ll be prepared. Instead of fretting about what I’m not getting done, I plan to leaf through some art books, dig around on the Web to see what more I can learn about clients’ industries, bone up on the details of what’s going on with our legislative session, call professional colleagues whom I respect just to chat. I’ll think about different things in hopes that it will spur me to think differently about ordinary things.
With any luck, my inner snow angel will whack my outer snow crab with a great big shovel.
Bring on the snow.
Comments (1)
February 5th, 2010 at 6:55 pm
Unfortunately, there is a third type of person called the snow hermit crab. I read your blog beneath two comforters and a wool jacket in 64 degree Florida weather. In my defense, it’s a 3/4 sleeve jacket without lining.
Your story convinced me to think creatively though this cold spell. In fact, by the end of the night a new drawing will be added to my sketch book. I am trying to design logos for a campaign called Love Lawlessly.
You’ve also inspired me to move up north some day, even as far as Georiga.