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 snow-covered world. You know the kind — thick, white, fluffy, untouched.

The kind that makes everything feel quiet. Clean. New. Like the universe pressed reset overnight and whispered, “Let’s pretend nothing bad ever happened.”

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. 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 that’s when it hit me

Everybody deals with sh*t.

Physically. Metaphorically. Daily.

No exceptions.

"Some find God on a mountaintop. I found clarity standing ankle-deep in snow, holding a warm bag of dog poop, wondering if this is a metaphor."

The Illusion of Clean Lives

We love the idea of a clean slate:

A fresh start.
A new year.
A blank page.
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.
Dogs poop exactly when you’re having a poetic moment.

The difference isn’t whether we deal with the mess.

It’s how much effort we put into pretending we don’t.

Some People Hide It Better. Some step carefully around it. Some people bury it.

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

And some of us?

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. You participated in life.

No one gets through a walk without encountering it.

And the snow?

The snow doesn’t cancel it out. It just makes it 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 (you know the one — the universal symbol of responsibility), I realized something oddly comforting: There is nothing uniquely wrong with me.

Nothing uniquely broken. Nothing especially cursed.

I’m just… alive.

Dealing with what comes with it.

Sometimes life is breathtakingly beautiful — quiet, white, crisp, untouched.

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

Both are real.

Both belong.

And I’ve got the bag to prove it.

xo,

Sanne

(thinking deep thoughts while picking up literal sh*t in the snow)

If this hit somewhere deep: