Snow Isn’t the Problem. We Are.

Jonas DoerrOpinions Columnist

When we were reacquainted with snow this week, there were mixed reactions. Some folks scampered for their Christmas trees and blow-up Santas while others wept in dismay. Others enjoyed the beauty but dreaded when they would have to open the door and experience it more personally.

Perhaps the most common reaction was a resignation to the approach of a long, frigid winter. Gone are the warm breezes of summer and the crisp sun of autumn, and some people are already bracing themselves for months of sub-zero wind chills. The only thing abating the despair the snow causes is the hope of fresh spring sunshine.

But this is no way to be happy, and there’s an easier way to do it than moving to Florida. As long as we go to school in Minnesota, the chilly winters will remain. Fortunately, carbon dioxide won’t change that fact for us quite that quickly. What can change is our mindsets.

Why do we hate the coldness of our winters but willingly stuff sno-cones and ice cream down our gizzards? Context. And sugar, but even an ice cube is delicious on a steamy Sunday in July.

A hot tub feels great, but muggy midsummer nights are foul. A bucket of ice water is awful, but a walk-in freezer after a run satisfies both nerve endings and stomachs. The main difference between them is whether one can choose the hot or cold situation.

But the weather is unavoidable, one might say. Except it really isn’t. Gustavus is obviously superior to all other schools, but plenty of us could have at least applied to a more southern college. Many of us could have gone to school in Louisiana, but we instead decided to stick it out in the Minnesota winters. We chose the snow.

Thinking about the weather that way might make it slightly more tolerable, but there are other problems. It might be more common that we appreciate the first snowfall and even the second, but by mid-January we’ve had enough. Dirty slush and bundling up to take out the trash gets old quickly.

This mindset is a common trait of humanity. There’s a specific term for it: the hedonic treadmill. The concept is that humans will always strive for something better than what they currently have. When they get what they want they will be temporarily happy, but soon humans readjust their standards and return to their baseline level of happiness. The treadmill just speeds up.

For example, a Gustie longs to get into an apartment. Their dream comes true! They get in! Excitement consumes them, they yelp for joy, and run in circles until they trip on their dresser drawer. The Gustie lies on the ground in mild pain but still smiling because of the amazing news.

A week passes. A month. Soon, it is time for them to live in the apartment. It’s great; there’s lots of space, and they cook delicious meals every day. After a bit, they get used to it. It’s a lot of work to cook, the bathroom never gets cleaned, and none of their roommates ever take out the compost bin. They feel the same way they felt in their living situation last year.

It’s the same way with seasons. Spring comes, and it’s amazing! The birds are chirping, and the air smells like life and the Evelyn Young Dining Room grill. Then we get used to it. Summer weather comes, and we frolic at the beach! Then we get sandy and sunburned and can’t wait for pumpkin spice latte season.

On and on it goes, a never ending cycle of discontent. Is that life, or can we step off the treadmill? I think we can.

First, don’t let the excitement of the changing seasons go away. Enjoy that first burst of orange leaves and the first day you can watch someone else shovel the sidewalk for you. But then try to remember how you felt during that first snowfall when it starts getting bleaker in November. 

When the vast expanse of white powder feels monotonous, try rekindling the novelty you felt during the first snowfall this week. It might help you feel more gratitude and contentment and to escape the hedonic treadmill of always wanting more.

Maybe this isn’t for you. Maybe the burning hatred of snow is what fuels you to get up at 6 a.m. and power through five classes, 13 clubs, and a varsity sport. But for the rest of us, a little more contentment would be a nice improvement.

I think this doesn’t have to stick to seasons, either. Trying to stay content is a world-view shift that can impact most areas of our lives.

Feel like complaining about a friend? Think about all the traits you loved about them when you first met. Want to complain about the food? Try to remember how convenient it is and how many people worked to get it to you. Decided to complain about how desks, doors, whiteboards, and the English language have all conspired against lefties? Call me up, we’d get along.

But when a blast of cold air hits you as you walk across Eckman Mall and snow flurries in your hair, try not to feel too frosty. Instead, enjoy the uniqueness of your Minnesota experience. After all, there’s snow place like home.