Snow Skirt

 It was 19 degrees when I started hiking today, and I had to admit that I was wrong. 

I, Tari Stage-Harvey, was absolutely and unequivocally wrong. 

Snow skirts are amazing and I apologize for all the times I made fun of friends who wore them. I'm sorry for joking about how ridiculous and impractical they are.

My husband got me one and I made fun of him. I'm kind of a horrible person, but now I know that snow skirts prevent chafing and keep me from feeling like an incarnation of the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man in snow pants. 

It's hard to admit when I am wrong and there are times I will latch on to something and fight for it like it is the only truth in the universe. I have learned that saying my truth louder and repeating it doesn't make it true; it only makes it more embarrassing when I am proven wrong. It's important to offer observations about what we think is true, but a little humility is not a bad thing.

I was given a helpful tool at a writer's conference when a columnist talked about introducing a thought she held strongly; she started by saying, "I could be wrong, but . . . "

At first I thought that was ridiculous, but it's actually kind of helpful. The stronger I feel about the righteousness of my opinion, the more I need to leave the window open that I could be missing something. 

The other helpful tool is thinking about Balaam's ass. It's one of my favorite stories in the Bible where the prophet Balaam is off to do something stupid and the angel of death is waiting to strike him, but Balaam's donkey sees the impending destruction and keeps stopping. Balaam gets angry and hits his donkey who immediately turns around and says, "I'm trying to save your ass." Maybe that's my paraphrase and maybe I am a middle schooler who can't refrain from ass jokes.

It's a great story and since I have been outwitted by my dog on multiple occasions I try to pay attention to what the signs around me are telling me about the direction I'm headed. Last week I got so frustrated with Cassie because she kept stopping randomly and barking into the woods. She was kind of freaking me out and then we came across the fresh bear scat. 

In the snow. 

When they are supposed to be sleeping. 

I should know by now, she is smarter than I am. 

I could be wrong, but snow skirts are God's gift to those of us who live in the cold. 

And I need to pay attention to the lives around me, especially when I'm hell bent on a certain direction, it may be my ass that's saved.