In my ongoing quest for truth and wisdom, I sought the meaning of the most ephemeral of all holidays. Why is Groundhog Day even marked on our calendars? Why do millions of people pay any attention to the reaction of a sleepy furry mammal to the cloud cover on one specific morning on a cold day in late winter? It seems silly, doesn’t it?
In my perplexity, I decided to go straight to the source. I went to the Groundhog. It was early morning…
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“You want to know what Groundhog Day is all about.” He surprised me by speaking first.
“Yes, thank you, I do,” I responded. Eager to get the ball rolling, I continued. “If I weren’t thinking too hard, I might say it’s a celebration of weather.”
“Certainly that is one aspect of the day.”
“But no one really believes – no offense, mind you – no one really believes that the Groundhog really predicts the weather. Right?”
His only response, with a small little grin: “Does it matter?”
That took me back for a moment. Clearly weather was not the most important thing on the Groundhog’s mind. “You might say it’s about the Groundhog himself,” I continued.
“Of course that is a part of it, and flattering, thank you. But just as Independence Day is about more than fireworks, just as St. Patrick’s Day is about more than shamrocks, just as Christmas is about more than trees or even angels, so Groundhog Day is about more than its symbols.”
I was not getting any closer to understanding. In fact, I was getting more confused. I shrugged my coat higher around my shoulders to keep out the cold wind and began to think out loud.
“Groundhog Day is not a federal holiday, not a religious holy day, not a historic anniversary. It is not any of the things that we normally use to characterize a holiday.” Asking myself more than the Groundhog, I went on. “So what is it all about?”
He waited silently, blinking in anticipation but offering no response. Clouds scudded across the pale blue sky behind him.
I decided to jump right to my best answer. “If you think just a bit beyond the obvious,” I said hesitantly, “you might say that reaching Groundhog Day means you have survived another winter. The cold may not be over yet, but the end is in sight and the worst is past.”
Proud of my insight, I waited for the Groundhog to affirm my wise adage. To my surprise, he did not.
“That is definitely one aspect of the celebration of Groundhog Day. But there is more.”
I fumbled as I contemplated, and continued. “You might say,” I began slowly, “that Groundhog Day celebrates our connectedness with nature, the cycles of nature that define our world.” I knew I was on the right track now. “It is important that we are reminded, once in a while, that we are all the children of this natural world, and that we share the planet with all our fellow creatures.” I smiled. “Like the Groundhog.”
Once more he smiled at me with that benevolent, enigmatic smile. “This is a good and valid point,” He said. I beamed. “We are making progress.”
Progress? Did that mean we weren’t finished yet? I struggled to understand what more there possibly could be to say about this perplexing day that was and wasn’t a holiday. Suddenly I was struck by a new inspiration. I stood tall and proclaimed with confidence. “You might say that Groundhog Day is about new beginnings. The worst of winter has passed. Whether spring comes quickly or slowly, it will come.” A moment’s thought, and I continued. “Groundhog Day is intrinsically optimistic. It is about believing in the coming of spring even while we feel the freezing wind whipping about, even while we shiver in the cold.”
“Yes!” the Groundhog exclaimed. “Faith! Life would be dismal indeed without faith in the future, without hope for better times to come! This is an excellent point, and worthy of remembrance.” I felt so proud. But once again, just when I thought there was no more to say, he went on. “There is yet one more level of wisdom to which you may rise.”
He waited expectantly. I stood disbelieving and dejected. After all this, I was on the verge of failure in my quest for wisdom, glory, and the true meaning of Groundhog Day.
I stared down at scattered bits of snow on the brown grass, looked into the distance at treeless limbs standing in silhouette against the early morning sky. A tiny bit of intuitive insight arrived on a tinier gust of cold wind spinning around my ankles, and was gone just as fast.
I looked up at the blustery sky and reached out to reclaim the bit of perception that now eluded me. It seemed as if I had been standing there for hours when words of inspiration at last began to take shape in my mind. I heard those words as they came from my own mouth, and began to learn from my own voice.
“Groundhog Day is a day that is in most ways like any other,” I began. “It is cold, but not coldest. It may be sunny or cloudy.” I looked across the way to where people were beginning to make their way to work, driving slowly on the icy streets, walking carefully with coffee in hand. “Groundhog Day is a day when business as usual continues… People are perhaps marginally conscious that this day might be a little bit special. But…” I paused, “that niggling notion gets quickly put aside as the tasks and concerns of the day demand our attention and take precedence.”
The Groundhog smiled up at me like a proud parent might smile at a toddler taking his first steps. A pleasant warmth filled me but what I felt, I realized with surprise, was neither pride, nor a sense of accomplishment, nor even relief, but a deep sense of peace and significance.
I let my newfound realizations continue to flow. “The most special thing about Groundhog Day is that it is no more special than any other day. The thing is, on Groundhog Day we are a bit more aware of that specialness that exists all around us every day of ordinary life.”
“The Groundhog reminds us…” I stopped to smile at my serene mentor. “Whether we realize it or not, the Groundhog is reminding us that this sunny or cloudy day holds immense significance.”
As I paused for emphasis, the sun broke through the clouds for a moment. I smiled a grin of gratitude at the Groundhog, who was ambling back toward his burrow. He paused and turned to hear the last of what I had to say.
“The Groundhog,” I said, “is reminding us that what happens this morning matters. That this day is important. Just like every other ordinary day of our lives!”
He smiled, turned, and waddled into his burrow to await the coming of spring.
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What do you think? Is this day important? Does it matter how well the Groundhog predicts the weather? Does the Groundhog have anything to teach us?
You’ll have to answer those questions for yourself. I encourage you to pause long enough to become aware of the unique wonders that surround you each of the commonplace days of your life.
Take some time on this extraordinary ordinary day in February to consider that every mundane day of life just might be a miracle that we should not fail to appreciate. That’s what I think.
Maybe this Groundhog Day will bring some specialness to the rest of the wonderful ordinary days of your year. That’s what I expect.
Every Day is Special. Especially Groundhog Day.
Gryphem
