The Stillness After the Storm

The last couple of weeks have brought quite a bit of heavy snow to much of Iowa, and I’m sure many of you have been like me-spending endless hours outside clearing sidewalks, driveways, and paths of the white stuff. I must admit I am usually quite grumpy going out to do this and with the cold, it usually takes me at least 10 minutes to get dressed in warm enough clothes to take on the shoveling task. I may or may not in these moments utter something to the effect: “why am I not living in a warm weather locale”? I usually get some music playing on my headphones to make the work seem more manageable.

I was reading an article a few weeks ago about how new snowfall quiets much of the noise of the outside as snowflakes have open spaces that absorb sound waves (almost like a blanket) and I have really noticed the silence the last two weeks I have been scooping.

To me, it’s a silence that calms the mind and shifts the pace of life, at least for a little while. And what’s struck me most is how snowstorms do something remarkable: they help quiet the world a bit, but they also bring people together.

There’s something very unique about the stillness after a fresh snowfall. You can’t rush the work (unless you use a snow blower!)—you move at the pace the snow allows. That kind of forced slowing is rare in everyday life, especially for me right now with an extremely busy basketball schedule as well as we head into the holiday season with more noise, urgency, and busyness than ever.

As I’ve been outside scooping in the cold, I’ve noticed that the quiet becomes a kind of reset. I’m not checking my phone for notifications, no multitasking, no worrying about things you can’t control-it’s just a repetition of throwing snow, focusing on not injuring anything (!) and time to think. There’s a clarity that emerges when everything else is still.

And then, along with the quiet, there is this unexpected togetherness. Every time I go outside, there are people all around me doing the same thing. I have neighbors I do not see for weeks suddenly appear—working through the same challenges I am. My next door neighbor is an amicable elderly widow who is very spry and usually out working before I can even get out there to help her! My neighbor across the alley just put his wife in a nursing home so another neighbor across the alley takes care of his snow removal. We are always outside together and share stories of how things are going as well as giving us a rest from the shoveling. I had another neighbor take his large blower down the sidewalk in front to clear a path for all of us for a bit. There’s definitely a bond with neighbors especially when you are out doing the same work and everyone seems to jump in and help everyone else when the work is especially challenging. We then move on to finish up our own work.

It seems like snow doesn’t care about backgrounds, opinions, politics, or personalities. It lands on all of us. And in the aftermath of a storm, we all pick up a shovel. There’s something very grounding in that-something we often miss in a world that seems determined to highlight our differences.

These past few storms have reminded me of three simple but important things:

1. Silence still exists—and we need it. We think better, breathe better, and reconnect with ourselves when we step into quiet spaces.

2. Shared work connects us. Even small tasks—like clearing a driveway—become opportunities to bridge gaps.

3. Slowing down gives us perspective. Snow forces us to pause. Instead of resenting that pause, maybe we can appreciate the positives of it.

As the holiday season inches closer—along with its noise, expectations, and busyness—I appreciate the way these snow storms have literally and figuratively slowed things down. The quiet of snow and the simple connections made with neighbors reminded me of what matters: presence, community, and perspective.

If the next few weeks start to feel chaotic (which they will!), I hope you will take some time to step outside, breathe in the cold air, and let the world slow down for a moment. The work may not be what we want to do, but the time spent will be well worth it. Be safe out there and have a great week!

Coach K