Time is a Terrible Thing to Waste

It's only right that snowstorms bring out unnatural feelings. It is a rare occurrence to see a blizzard here in New Jersey and when it does happen you're alienated from most of what you consider the world and left to your own thoughts.

This time around I was reminded of a lecture I once found online from one of my favorite authors, Chuck Palahniuk (Fight Club, Choke, Rant), where he described how modern American society has nothing but time. With a tip of the hat to our ancestors, we don't have to forage and hunt for food, search for water, make our own clothing or worry about a plethora of diseases our vaccines laugh at. Now our system runs on dollars and, despite coming a long way to this point, we barely look back.

NOTICE: Until a snow day comes along.

Where we normally have filled the void of basic survival practices, like hunting and gathering, with data entry and synergy, snow drops a blanket of white on it all. It, no doubt, delivers a tinge of purity. It's a coercive one-way ticket back to the times of self-sufficiency but with half the danger. Food is scarce inside the home and difficult to hunt down outside. Shoveling the walkways and driveways is the day's back-breaking labor and the only transportation available is at your feet.

But when the work you do to survive is impossible, i.e. your job, you're left to those things rocketing around your head: your thoughts.

SIDE STEP: The blizzards of 2010 graciously gave me two days where survival wasn't necessary. Left to my own discretion, I found myself thoroughly enjoying what made life so unique.

I don't want to get all uplifting and inspirational because I won't be, so let's focus. Both snow days gave me plenty of time to consume whatever the television set regurgitated. Fine. It also gave me the chance to act like a giant kid again and destroy myself sledding down South Plainfield's hills. Awesome. But what I found most interesting was I was happier than most days I could remember. An ecstatic smile crept across my face and I can only attribute it to enjoying the perks of life without absolutely any worry. Food and water were available when I was inside a nice, warm house. Band-aids were in reach for when I smashed my face on some ice.

When the sun fell, though, was when my thoughts turned inward. I took stream-of-conscious notes under the influences around me and turned out some interesting developments, too many to write here.

I surged back to the Palahniuk thought. If we all have so much time, what are we doing with it? These snow days were nothing but introspective thought and sheer, childlike bliss. And while blizzards can't happen all the time, I quickly realized I wanted to recreate this elation as much as possible. I dove headfirst into all the things I wanted to do in terms of time, instead of the selfish, ungrateful boredom I felt on generic weather days.

Forget TV for a month. I could watch French New Wave films while reading gritty detective novels.

I want to mix graham crackers in mint chocolate chip ice cream.

Fly to the island of St. Croix for a weekend and enjoy the warm breeze.

Or draft the recollections of my childhood in short, narrative form

What snow has given me this winter is the return to power of using my time wisely. If we all recognize that we don't have to do all the chores we think are survival, we can use all that other time we spend being bored and make our life way more exciting. Like a kid plastered with a smile in a snowstorm.