Updated: Mar 7
The cold biting wind blasted my cheeks as I opened the door of my work. I looked out in front of me and saw nothing except white waves of blowing snow. I could hear the sound of spinning tires as others leaving the store were attempting to go home. I could barely see the cars. Thankfully it was near closing time, and the parking lot was not very crowded. I said a prayer for the others leaving the lot and said a prayer for myself as I walked in ankle-high snow. Once to my car, I started the car and began to scrape the windows.
The snow glistened in front of me like diamonds, but it was not time to enjoy my surroundings. I had to get home before the snow storm covered the car again.
My tires spun, and I rocked the car to free the tires from the snowdrifts carefully and began driving home. My heart began to jackhammer after I discovered the snowplows were not out yet. Thankfully the light to exit the parking lot was red. This red light gave me a chance to take a deep breath and enter the unplowed road with a little more peace. I just knew I would get home. However, it wasn't easy to maintain that peace because the wind blew the white ripples of snow and enveloped my car, causing a road I have used to get to and from work for 21 years to become unfamiliar territory. I could hardly see my headlights, road lights, and signs. I also could not even see the lanes of traffic. It took almost an hour to travel on what would generally be a 20-minute road trip.
Writing my blog and designing my new website reminds me of driving at night in a snowstorm. I have a lot of information and the ambition to fulfill my goals, but the lack of knowledge and fear blows bitterly cold lies at my face and makes it hard to see in front of me. I could give up, but I will continue to drive. But I can make the whole trip. It just took me seeing what needs done and then going all the way home.
Do you have any writing or building a blog or website stores to share? I'm looking forward to hearing from you?
The photo of this blog was taken by Neil Provo and has been used with permission.