Damn the Weather, Man

That’s a very precariously placed comma.

I don’t wish eternal damnation upon all meteorologists, nor do I have the authority. However, as an anxiety-sufferer who already has enough on her plate, weather reports add another element of doom and gloom.

Perhaps if I didn’t live in New England at the ever-encroaching tail-end of winter . . .

from realbodywork.com

Perhaps if the cold clime didn’t make my already shriveled trapezius muscles jerk ever upward . . .

Perhaps if I woke up in the morning, looked at the thermometer and decided on my wardrobe at that moment on current conditions . . .

Perhaps if I could notice the gentle unfolding of the season with my own eyes rather than through the lens of radar screens and predetermined dates on the calendar . . .

Maybe, then, I wouldn’t be psychologically distraught at the impending snow storm we’re about to get.

I wouldn’t be worried about the fresh shoots that I’d unearthed beneath their layer of winter leaves. I wouldn’t bemoan the loss of soft earth between my fingers that I’d felt just this weekend. I wouldn’t begrudgingly look at the lightweight fleece jacket hanging forlornly on the doorknob.

I wouldn’t feel trapped. I wouldn’t feel like I was experiencing a relapse into unforgiving ways. I wouldn’t be nervously anticipating the loss of something I’d only barely gotten a grip on.

Driving home and noticing shutters pulled tight against the windows of a historical building that I swear I’d never noticed shut before, I actually thought of banishing all weather reports from my existence. If I didn’t know I was supposed to be battening down the hatches, I might delight in the snow. At the very least, I’d adjust accordingly when I woke up that morning by pulling on my knee socks and down coat. I wouldn’t obsess. I wouldn’t worry. I might actually live in the moment.

And that, dear people, is really what this is all about, isn’t it? It never really was about weather reports. That’s my irrational psyche’s way of pulling attention away from what is really at the heart of the matter. If I can blame the weather man for my obsessive tendencies, then I don’t have to take the onus on myself. That I can’t live in the moment. That I can’t still the whirling dervish in my mind and so must look to external forces, such as a lovely spring day, to calm me. Or, in their absence, to name as the reason for my failures.

If only the sun were shining, my heart would be light.

If only spring had truly sprung, my mood would refresh.

If only I had no prior knowledge, I wouldn’t obsess and worry.

If only it were that easy.

(Though weather reports and the attendant technology do pull us out of synch with the natural rhythms of the earth and our surroundings. 😉 )

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  1. My thoughts exactly Jen! I suffer from the same tendencies and am so sick of getting something new to worry about! I think it’s worse for people, like my elderly parents, who don’t get out much, and who rely on these weather men (and ladies) to reveal the success of the day simply by stating the weather. We can have good days and bad weather at the same time, I keep repeating that to myself this time of year!! Great great post, and so re-bloggable!!



  2. Jennifer Butler Basile

     /  March 25, 2014

    Oh my goodness, Pat, I’ll have to throw my TV and radio out the window when I’m that age! If not today! Good days, bad weather – good mantra and metaphor for many things! Thanks, Pat!


  3. Little Mighty

     /  March 25, 2014

    I know exactly what you mean. I hate getting negative weather reports. I can’t wait for this winter to be over with and the wonderful spring awaiting us. Spring means the promise of a new rebirth for nature and also for us to restore our souls. The sun always makes me feel regenerated.


  4. Reblogged this on By the Mighty Mumford and commented:


  5. I’d rather the snow stayed away, if it’s a mistake, at least this time it was in the overestimating! I hate when we get hammered.


    • Jennifer Butler Basile

       /  March 27, 2014

      So glad the reports – or the storm itself – were off-track! I feel for those digging out.


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