If Sisyphus were here, he’d keep shoveling

This was his punishment from the gods for misdeeds during his life. Being sentenced to endlessly perform futile and hopeless labor — with full awareness — was, to the Greeks, the worst possible fate.

I sympathize with Sisyphus as I contemplate my driveway, shovel curling like a dead leaf and tendons screaming. In its waning days, this winter has become like Sisyphus’s task, an exercise in futility and humility. We shovel, chop, scrape, scoop, sweep, and salt, none of which makes much difference as snowmelt freezes over cleared pavement, and new storms negate everything. We can’t stop shoveling, locked in an endless, unwinnable struggle.

Unlike Sisyphus, we have reasons to reflexively take up our task, and we know that spring will eventually conquer winter’s residue. But what kept Sisyphus going? He knew he would not succeed, still he accepted his fate and performed his futile task in perpetuity. Can that be the lesson?

There are plenty of occasions when human action won’t change the course of events, and we know it. In the long run, much of what people worry over, struggle with, and work toward doesn’t matter. Goals often remain unfulfilled, accomplishments unrecognized, sacrifices unappreciated. Success, unlike spring, is not a sure thing. Yet like Sisyphus we push on, carrying our unique burdens up whatever mountains stand in the way. We keep shoveling.

We are born to persevere, even when we know it won’t do much good. We keep pushing against obstacles, and there is value in that. Outside my front door, on the tundra that was once — and will soon again be — a sidewalk, I hack at the frozen precipitation to clear a neat path, knowing that no one will take note. My work will be a muddy, runny mess as soon as nature remembers that it is March, and yet I can’t leave it until I’ve done my best.

We all lean in to our boulders and mountains, whatever they may be, because it’s better to do something than nothing. Even if the outcome does not change, there is value in knowing that we did not shrink from the struggle. It gives us purpose beyond our understanding. And unlike Sisyphus, we have hope that someday, our boulders will stay put.