Opening the door isn't enough... you must step through

My dad lives in Maryland where they now have about 5 feet of snow in the ground. This is not usual for winter -- not usual at all to have multiple blizzards -- so the snow plows have had a hell of a time just clearing the main highways, much less any side streets.

But people keep calling and getting really annoyed that no one has come to shovel them out.

The Govenor even got on radio to tell people that they would have to shovel on their own because there just was not enough equipment or manpower to do it... yet they keep calling.


One neighborhood handled it differently. They got together and had a block party where everyone brought their shovels and started working on their street. They worked together. They got it done.

But the other streets? Not so much. They keep calling and getting more and more annoyed that no one has come to shovel them out.


I find myself at this crossroads. I have been hit with blizzard after blizzard of health problems. For a long time, no one knew what was wrong with me... and I just got more ill until I was barely functioning at all. It took all my energy to just make it through the day to do the essentials. Survive. Like the snow plows clearing just the highways -- essential for emergency equipment and police.

I have not been able to go to movies or restaurants or extra stuff because I have been too sick... like the side streets, that stuff just is not important or essential.

But there comes a day when you look out and see all that snow piled up on that side street and you get sick of looking at it. No one is going to come and clear it for you. And you are trapped inside until something is done... your car is blocked, the road is blocked.

You are stuck.

You are at a crossroads.

So you can sit inside and get pissed off and call and yell and cry and wait on other people to come out to do it for you.

Or...

You can dig around in the basement or garage and find your shovel... it's there somewhere, covered in dust and cobwebs. Unused for so long, it's a bit rusty.

Then you put on your boots.

And open the door.

It's daunting, that pile. It's 4 or 5 feet deep and you don't know if you can do it. You are by yourself on this. It's going to take a long time to get through it. What if you run out of energy? What if you...

Stop. You stop yourself right there because all that matters is starting. The rest will come.

The reality is that your car is blocked and you are blocked until you do something.

The pile is still daunting but... it's just a pile of snow. That's all. It's the starting that's tough.

The fear. The searching for someone to do it for you. Facing the work ahead... knowing that it will be hard and scared that you will fail. It's safer to stay inside and get someone else to do it for you. To ask so much of you is frightening. How dare they? It makes you angry that you have to do this! It is their job! They are the ones with the equipment! The knowledge!

It's just snow.

What are you really scared of?

That it will be too much? Or that another storm will bury you again?


Yes, that is the real fear, isn't it? By stepping out that door to help yourself, you are afraid that you will be left. Alone. To do it all by yourself. "She's strong enough! She's well enough! Why can't she do all these things? She has no excuse now!"

And the secret fear... the one that you don't even want to admit to yourself but it is there... what if you don't get any better than you are right now?

What if this is as good as it gets?

Yes, that is the fear, isn't it?

And in that moment of truth... facing the truth and knowing even as you look around desperately for someone to help, someone to take this burden from you... the choice is in your hands.

You can stay safe in your house, yes. But that means that things will NOT change. You will not change. And you have given up your voice, your say in the matter.

Or

You can step forward and through the door into something else, something different, something more than you are right now.

It's a leap of faith, that step forward. A huge leap of faith, just as this whole journey has been a leap of faith to claw your way out of sickness. This is just another journey. That's all. The next part of the journey. Learning to use your voice again, to grab hold of your shovel and clear a path to free yourself.


The door is still open. Waiting.