The Middle Path
It’s my second winter living in Utah and we’ve received record breaking snow fall. Last year at this time, it felt like there would never…
It’s my second winter living in Utah and we’ve received record breaking snow fall. Last year at this time, it felt like there would never be another real winter and as I write this with the calendar about to turn to April, it is snowing with a forecast for it to snow for the next 10 days and the temps are cold which means this white stuff isn’t melting anytime soon.
Of course, the skiers are ecstatic, we’ve had incredible conditions. But what has everyone really smiling is the respite it brings to our drought ridden state, for the filling reservoirs, even a few feet added back to the depth of the Great Salt Lake.
Reporters and state officials are quick to mention, however, one winter isn’t going to solve all our problems. We would need two or three similar winters to restore to pre-drought levels. But still, it is something. As the snowbanks around my house eclipse ten feet, I can’t help but wonder how it isn’t enough while also feeling like man, this is too much. It will cause springtime flooding and a diminished urgency around climate issues. Or should I eschew the negativity bias and try to see the record snowpack as evidence of earth’s abundance? The answer to our prayers?
The thing is, extremes make me nervous. Maybe it’s because I was raised by a bi-polar parent, but I find big swings of the pendulum anxiety provoking. A wise person once said, “Don’t let the highs get too high, nor the lows get too low.” I think I first heard this adage with regard to sports. Living and dying with each win or loss is a terrible mindset for an athlete…. And It’s to be avoided as an author as well. Better not to label every step on one’s journey as either good or bad, because a binary mindset makes it impossible to move forward. Who knows if the snowfall is good or bad, could it be both at the same time?
Along those lines, I’ve been studying Proverbs this winter with an eye towards the “middle path.” Let your eyes look forward, your gaze be straight ahead. Survey the course you take, and all your ways will prosper. Do not swerve to the right or the left; Keep your feet from evil. -Proverbs 4:25–27. It’s not only in Judaism. The Buddha also extolled the virtue of the middle way, a compromise between asceticism at one extreme and sensual indulgence on the other. On a secular level, we’ve all heard that when it comes to diet, drinking or any activity really, a philosophy of moderation is the best.
It’s more than the snow. Lately, I’ve been wondering how our society might adapt to the increasing presence of extremes. Not just the swing from drought to an onslaught of atmospheric rivers, but the widening gap between haves and have nots, between hunger and gluttony, between peace and war, between red and blue, between honesty and deceit. I keep hearing about the unprecedented and widening divide, but not as much attention around what might push us back together. While cruising in the left lane, a person may look suspiciously at the slow poke in the right lane, easily writing them off as a bad driver, a fool, totally missing the point. But life in the breakdown lane might feel like 700 inches of snow. Absolute nirvana. Fresh powder every day. How can you argue with that?
Veering back onto the middle path is a daily practice, it requires empathy and a commitment to understanding other points of view. It requires observing the world and acknowledging the love and light in everyone, seeing both sides of a situation and charting an authentic course. Aspiring to live on my middle path, I admit, the snowfall metaphor is a stretch, but hey, it’s real and right in front of me, and it’s getting really, really extreme.