Use the shovel

At the end of January, the storm of the season ripped through most of the country.

And where was I? Home. In St. Louis. Waiting to see what Mother Nature would deliver.

The worst of it was expected Saturday morning through Sunday afternoon. I was supposed to fly to Vegas on Monday for a talk. Watching the forecast, I felt that familiar tightening in my chest — the stress that comes when so much is out of your control.

Living in an apartment building in the city, I wasn’t just worried about my flight. I was worried about our cars getting buried. About my kids being stuck. About being unable to do the next thing in front of me.

So I bought two shovels and waited.

When the snow began to fall, I headed to the parking lot every few hours and cleared off our cars. The more I shoveled, the less helpless I felt.

I cleared the steps outside our building. Then the sidewalk at the other entrance. I sprinkled ice melt where it would help. It wasn’t heroic. It was small.

But it was something.

At one point, I noticed I was piling snow from our car into the path of the car next to us. That didn’t sit right. So I cleared a path for them, too.

When the storm finally stopped, I grabbed my two sons and we attacked the parking lot. The plow had created a main lane. We carved out the rest. Soon neighbors started coming out, and we teamed up to help each other dig free.

It was simple.It was cold.It was oddly joyful.

By Sunday evening, the lot was clear. My kids were ready for the week. Despite single-digit temperatures, my flight took off Monday morning. I made it to my talk.

On the plane, breathing relief and gratitude, I thought about that storm — and the larger storms happening in our country.

If you just sit and watch, it’s easy to feel powerless.

I wish I could do more for my neighbors, my community, the underrepresented who need support. I wish I could fix more. Protect more. Solve more.

But that weekend reminded me of something:

When you can’t control the storm, you can still pick up a shovel.

You can clear a step.You can make a path.You can make it easier for someone standing next to you.

I pray for the courage to keep picking up shovels.

—Travis