Shoveling

Dig in, lift up, spread around.

Every morning I wake up, put on a pair of galoshes, and grab a shovel. And I wish it weren’t so.

Because every morning there’s a big pile of Shit That Needs Doing. Never mind that I never agreed to most of what has wound up in that pile, never mind that there isn’t enough time in the day to finish shoveling, before the next day’s pile is added, and certainly never mind that shoveling shit day by day is far from the most glamorous job in the world.

What is there to do then? Can we do nothing more than protect ourselves as best as we are able, put in our eight (or twelve, or sixteen) hours in, and hope the stink comes out in the shower at the end of the day?

I’ve certainly shoveled my fair share of shit some days. It’s easy enough to fall into the rhythm: dig in, lift up, spread around. It’s comfortable too – no need to think when there’s a mound of work laying at your feet and a shovel in your hand.

Of course, one day you snap out of it and realize how much it stinks. But that’s the moment of liberation, too. Because as soon as you realize that shoveling isn’t the only way to deal a massive amount of work and obligation. Maybe you’ll have to get your hands a little dirty, but if you take the time to decide what’s worth your time, and what’s just stinking up the pile, you suddenly realize that this doesn’t have to be a never-win game.