Good morning and Happy New Year!
My grandfather told me that years ago he drove a car over the frozen Hudson River up near Tappan, New York. At least that’s how I remember the story. It never felt possible until this week when the days have been so cold it feels like the world is frozen over. But now I can picture it. I can see it as clear as day and I believe. I believe all of it.
I can picture the river, solid ice for at least a foot, and my grandfather in his old red car making his way across for reasons I can’t begin to imagine except that it was possible to do. Except that it was there and it was cold and he was willing.
We had a quiet New Years Eve and Day for which I’m grateful. But now I’m back to work wondering what it is I should be doing as the construction downstairs sends vibrations up the building and into my bones.
I suppose the jackhammers outside my window are a good reminder that there will always be distractions and there will always be reasons to freeze. They remind me that the world is loud and messy and I still have to find my way through it.
Maybe I can let my body harden as I settle in. I want to feel the cold take hold, contracting as it pulls me inward until I can barely stand it. Tight, close, and strong, I’ll keep myself steady.
And then, maybe once it’s complete and I’m a solid block I can do something about it. Maybe then I can be inspired by my grandfather’s nerve.
Then I can look out over the frozen expanse of the world and myself and raise a fist as I kick the car into gear and slide out onto the ice, untroubled by the danger and the cold. Untroubled by doubt and worry. Untroubled by thoughts of things crumbling beneath me and sending me down into the fish freezing depths.
At least until Spring.
-gny
