I find snow completely paradoxical.
It is deliciously soft, yet it hurts my hands. Each flake is unique, yet together they create a blank canvas. It is so very solid, yet so readily it melts away. It brings us into the street to play together, yet it cuts us off from one another. It is beautiful yet I dismay when I see it.
This week I have an appointment with my rurally-situated therapist which looks unlikely to go ahead. As I reflect on the interruption to the continuity of the work, I think about the fragility of our routines, how easily they may be disrupted, and the resilience required to adapt creatively to unpredictable external events.
There is likely to be a great many therapy sessions, supervision sessions, coaching sessions, and so on, cancelled throughout the UK this week. Each has meaning; each represents the loss of an encounter for both parties, and perhaps the gain of something too. For the clients, supervisees, therapists, supervisors and coaches whose week is altered by the snow, there is an opportunity for reflection – we can contemplate what each encounter means for us, what meaning each relationship holds. I will reflect on the different feelings which emerge with different types of cancellations. I made it to my supervision this week – how would it have felt to have been disconnected from that? How did it feel to go?
We also have an opportunity to connect with nature differently – to get outside in the crisp, cold air and experience and connect with our altered environment.
As barriers to relating go, the ‘Beast from the East’ feels like a pretty relentless one right now, but just as it came, it will pass. And as we resume our connections which have been put on hold, we may make new discoveries about how we manage changes to our routine, and how it feels to reconnect after an unplanned disruption.
For now, I think a warm drink and some time to appreciate the gentle beauty of a snowy day are in order. I can already see the crocuses peeking their heads above the snow.