Well Sh*t

Snow, silence, and a steaming pile of reality

"Some people rebrand it as “fertilizer for growth” before they’ve even acknowledged the smell."

Everyone deals with sh*t (some of us just pick it up in the snow)

We woke up to a thick, white, fluffy, untouched snow covered world. That creates some kind of magic and makes everything feel quiet, clean and new. Like the universe pressed reset overnight and whispered: Let’s pretend nothing bad ever happened.

So I put on my coat, grabbed the leash, and took my big, white, fluffy dog outside.

Perfect scene, really. Snow crunching softly under my boots. That magical, muffled silence only fresh snow brings. The sun was out and it didn't feel too cold. I stood there for a moment, breathing it in, enjoying the illusion of purity, peace and a life with no mess.

And then my dog squatted and took the biggest, steamiest sh*t you can imagine.

Right there, in the middle of this pristine, Instagram-worthy winter wonderland.

And I smiled, because I just realized:

Everybody deals with sh*t. Both physically and metaphorically on a daily basis.

No exceptions.

"Some find God or clarity on a mountaintop. I found clarity standing ankle-deep in snow, holding a warm bag of dog poop, appreciating the metaphor."

The illusion of clean lives

We love the idea of a clean slate: The fresh start of a new year, a blank page and a snow covered world where everything looks calm, sorted and untouched.

But life doesn’t stop being life just because the scenery improved. Shit still happens. Bodies malfunction, plans derail, people disappoint. And dogs poop exactly when you’re having a poetic moment.

The difference lies in how much effort we put into pretending we don’t have sh*t to deal with.

Yeah.... some people hide their sh*t better. Some step carefully around it. Some people bury it.

And then there are those that rebrand it as “fertilizer for growth” before they’ve even acknowledged the smell.

And for some of us...

Well we’re standing there with gloves on, scooping it up, thinking:

“Huh. So this is part of the walk too.”

Picking it up isn’t a failure, it doesn’t mean you did something wrong.

It just means that you showed up. You went outside and participated in life.

No one gets through a walk without encountering it. And the snow doesn’t cancel it out. It just makes the sh*t more obvious.

“Even the most poetic moments come with a cleanup job.”

A quiet truth, discovered holding a warm bag of reality

While tying that little knot in the bag containing the daily version of sh*t, I realized something oddly comforting: There is nothing uniquely wrong with me. Nothing uniquely broken or especially cursed. I’m just… alive. Dealing with what comes with it.

Sometimes life is breathtakingly beautiful: quiet, white, crisp and untouched.

And sometimes it’s warm, inconvenient, and requires immediate cleanup.

Both are real and belong.

And I’ve got the bag to prove it.

xo,

Sanne

If this hit somewhere deep:

share it, save it, scream into a pillow.

I don’t need applause.

But I’m always here for real connection.