February 25, 2026
The snow had melted just
enough to get a bit wet and sloppy, and then froze solid once more. The bottom
of the stairs from our porch to the front yard is encased in thick ice. I just
checked and according to the weather network, our temperature is above freezing,
but “feels like” 23 degrees Fahrenheit—which is, of course, below freezing.
Apparently, the out-of-doors
area our house is sitting in agrees with that “feels like” assessment as I see
no signs of melting or dripping so far. This is the first “traditional” type of
winter we’ve had for a long time.
On behalf of us all, I would
like to thank Mother Nature for this amazing reminder of just what it is she
has spared us from for the last few years. And I would, respectfully, of
course, request that she allow that early spring that our two Canadian groundhogs
predicted to now come forth.
The Winter Olympics of
Milano-Cortina have been consigned to the record books but remain a good
memory. For me, it’s not just about the medals earned—although I do take a kind
of patriotic pride in the achievement of all of our Canadian teams. They did
well and are to a one excellent examples of Canadian can-do spirit.
If it was just all about the
hardware one would doubt the event would even take place. These games just
completed hosted nearly three thousand athletes—and bestowed but 348 medals
(349 if you count the honorary one given the dog who triggered the camera at
the Nordic event). Those are some very long odds. If chasing a medal was the
point, who would bother?
The point is the humanity. The
point is the achievement. The dreaming, the striving. The thousand random acts
of kindness and the myriad examples of heroism. The point is giving it your all and not
quitting even knowing you might not win.
We humans are by nature an
adventurous lot. We never would have come out of the caves, otherwise. We want
to see what’s over the next horizon. We want to know, could I do that? So we
try, and when we succeed, we wonder, what else could I do if I just tried?
We were not created to live in
caves—nor in isolation. We’re social beings, yearning to have a dream, chase a
dream, and make that dream come true.
The best of times, as with the
worst of times, never come to stay. They come to pass. Now it’s time to turn
our sights fully back onto our own lives, our own paths. Some of us are refreshed,
and yes, some of us are resigned. That’s one of the choices right now, isn’t
it?
We’re surrounded by hundreds of
choices each day, and some are more consequential than others. We don’t even
understand, not fully, how special it is for us to be able to see the
difference in the degree of choosing we do. Do I have oat cereal or corn cereal
for breakfast? Do I wear this outfit or that one to work? Do I hit the
drive-thru for a coffee along the way, or take one from home and practice a bit
of frugality?
Do I let hate into my life and
into my heart, or do I draw a hard line and keep it out?
For those who think that hate
is just another thing we do, another random choice we make, I would point you
toward the games just past and beg to differ. We saw not only grit and
determination on our television screens night after night. We saw hands
extended in friendship; we saw diversity, equity and inclusion at its finest.
We saw that despite some differences there was more than bound us than that which
divided us.
Hate is a choking vine, a
crippling weight. Hate takes all the oxygen in the room and demands more. Hate
forges shackles of iron around our hearts and our souls so that all we can do,
in the end, is feed it.
Spring truly will be here
before we know it. It’s time for us to decide what kind of world we want to
live in. That sounds like a hard decision but it’s not. Because, you see, just
as it is physically impossible for the human body to produce laughter and
ulcers at the same time, it can’t grow hate and love simultaneously.
This is a choice that each of
us needs to make, and I believe it’s the most important choice any of us will
ever make.
I know where I stand on this:
I’ve chosen love. And I hope you do, too.
Love,
Morgan
http://www.bookstrand.com/morgan-ashbury
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