It’s almost cruel how beautiful it is here, now that Hurricane Ian has passed. The storm seems to have brought in the cooler, lovely fall weather with it, in one fell swoop. It’s sunny and beautiful and still and calm. My wind chimes aren’t even making one tiny ting-a-ling whatsoever. It’s so strange to just “go back to normal” after experiencing the build-up of fears and anxieties and destruction that big storms bring to us.
Yesterday, I had a dentist appointment, my husband worked, and my daughter drove home for the weekend, from college. We ended up going to The Cheesecake Factory for dinner. Life goes on. For most of us, we are relieved that the storm has passed, and not much has changed. For some us, our lives have been irrevocably changed and building a new life will take a great deal of healing and time and energy and vision and hope. Some of us will have to climb new mountains, while the rest of us just go back to our usual, comfortable lives in the valley. It’s honestly surreal. But such is life.
Once, when we were visiting Seattle, Washington, a man told us that living in Seattle is like having an intoxicatingly beautiful, brilliant girlfriend who is always depressed. (It rains a lot in Seattle.) Along the lines of this analogy, living in Florida is like having the most gorgeous, fabulous, optimistic, fun, exciting spouse/partner/lover, who on rare occasion, goes entirely bonkers and takes the house down in the process. Those of us who live where we live, do so for many reasons – climate, family, jobs, entertainment, etc. Different traits appeal to different people and everyone’s tolerance is different for various levels of high jinks and melee. Where each of us choose to place our boundaries with anything in life, is highly individualistic. Are the highs worth the lows? How much excitement does one crave? How much is reliable, stable peace worth? Again, these questions are just one small part of the pot of questions swirling around life as we live it. And living life is about either finding out the answers to our questions, or making peace with living with the mystery of the questions themselves. It’s honestly surreal.
Are you passing on love or are you passing on pain? Heal your pain and pass on love.