Tag: storms

Storms Pass

Yesterday we had a line of extreme storms roll through our area. We got continual warnings and alerts, via news sources, social media, texts, calls and emails. There were school and business closings, and my wind chimes got chimier and chimier as the day went on. Living in Florida, storm alerts are nothing new. I used the day to stay inside, in order to get caught up on laundry, bills and to put away the last of our Christmas decorations. For about 15 minutes in the late afternoon, the sky was black, the wind was howling, and the rain was torrential. And then as quickly as it came, the storm was past us. We even took the dogs for their nightly walk about an hour or so later, and it was lovely outside. The air was still, and everything around us glistened with cleansing rain. It smelled so nice and clean and fresh. This morning the sun is shining. It is a beautiful day.

That’s how it goes with life, right? I often tell my kids and my friends and myself, “Remember, the clouds always, always pass. Your life is the steadiness of the blue sky that is always there behind it all. The clouds ALWAYS pass.” And honestly, we typically spend a lot more time preparing for storms, and worrying about storms, and anticipating storms, than the length of time, any storm ever lasts. And usually once a storm in life is over, things look brighter and clearer than ever. Most storms are extremely cleansing. This bright clarity after the storm, is the gift that storms leave behind, almost as an apology for the fear, and the destruction, and the chaos that they brought into our lives for a short period of time. There are good reasons for storms if you look for them. There are blessings for storms if you look for them. And if nothing else, remember, storms and clouds ALWAYS pass.

Are you passing on love or are you passing on pain? Heal your pain and pass on love.

Here is the question of the day from 3000 Questions About Me:

1811. What aroma or smell makes you feel alive?

UGH

I’m sorry. The last 24 hours have been a little nuts around here. We had a big storm that broke off most of our beautiful, bounteous bougainvillea around an archway by our front door. Our fun Friday was spent cutting up branches for the garbage truck to take away this week. I am sad, but I know how feisty and resilient this particular plant is, as it came back from a hurricane one time.

Today, I only have a joke that made me giggle to offer up to you. I’ll do better tomorrow. Joke:

A snake walks into a bar and the bartender says, “How?”

I appreciate you, friends.

Are you passing on love or are you passing on pain? Heal your pain and pass on love.

Best Feelings

Two of my favorite feelings in the world are rarely discussed. Happiness, love, joy, glee, pride, excitement, peace, gratitude are all well-known “up” feelings on the feelings wheel/scale, but two of my all-time favorite feelings that I literally bathe in/saturate in/soak fully in and appreciate immensely, beyonds words are: 1) Having my curiosity satisfied (even if something/someone/some happening ends up being terrible, at least I know . . . Wondering is the worst state of limbo and being in limbo is one of my least favorite feelings in the world) and 2) Relief. I had to put a period after the word “Relief” because the feeling of relief is that solidly good. Both of these emotions are “results of results.” Both of these emotions eliminate uncertainty.

Since last summer our family and our extended family has been in what feels like a constant state of having to anticipate, and having to plan for both unusually good and unusually bad life-changing events. There have been graduations, new schools, major illnesses, funerals, dealing with estates, major trips, planning moves to new places, new job offers, etc. etc. etc. There have been so many new decisions to make. Now, I grasp that this is often just the way of life, but sometimes life gets a little clumpy, and since last summer, we’ve been rolling through a big ol’ clump of change that for now, at least, seems to have levelled out a little bit. We can breathe. The storm has passed. The direction ahead seems a little more clear in the windshield. (Now this is the point where I take a pause from writing, and I knock on my wooden desk until my knuckles turn bloody.)

Anyway, for today, I am luxuriating in the feeling of relief, and the gratitude for feeling this sense of relief. The weight feels lifted off of my shoulders. I can feel the grateful pause in my mind, and in my body, and and in my soul. I no longer have a million “What ifs?/How’s this going to go?/What’s next?” swirling around in my mind. I could have lived without the clustered clump of the major highs and the major lows which my family and I just experienced in less than a year, but perhaps the wonderful, cleansing, breathe out moment of relief that I am feeling right now, makes it all worth it.

Are you passing on love or are you passing on pain? Heal your pain and pass on love.

Soul Sunday

Good morning. I played with my words today. I took the time to write my own poem today. (For my new readers (and welcome!), Sundays are devoted to poetry on the blog.) My poem isn’t great, but it isn’t awful, and I feel excited to have woken up, and to have created something out of thin air. Create something this morning. Make an omelet. Write a poem. Draw a doodle. Plant a seed. Sundays are about doing the things that soothe our souls, and the things that awaken our most inspired energy. The world is a better place when we gift it, a small piece of our own inspired creativity and light.

Here’s my poem for today:

“Acceptance”

There’s a storm brewing.

It’s been stirring and tossing all of the ingredients,

Of a torrent, gloppy mess, for quite some time.

I’ve denied its existence, shading my eyes from its obvious glare.

I’ve railed against it. To come at us, like this, is terribly unfair.

I’ve tried to make a deal with the storm in my mind,

If you leave us alone, I promise to be kind.

I’ve cried about it, again and again.

Tears ruining the words, as I take this to pen.

Until finally, it all becomes incredibly clear.

Yes, there’s a storm brewing. The time is near,

And a quiet, still voice is softly whispering into my ear,

You shall survive all that this storm brings to you, my dear.

There is no peace felt, like the calm after a torrential, raging storm.

Perhaps these are the wise, parting gifts of storms that transform.

Are you passing on love or are you passing on pain? Heal your pain and pass on love.

Monday-Funday

i i i i i i

i i i ii

i I i i i

ii i i

i i iii i i i

About a week ago, I was reading magazines by my pool. Ralphie, our swimming-obsessed yellow Labrador was thrilled to have me out there with him. He jumped out of the pool to greet me, and he shook all of the water off of his 100-pound self, which landed all over my magazines. This has happened before. I know the drill, but this time, I had barely even begun to read my magazines. I almost considered it a loss, and tossed them unread, into the recycling bin, but something made me hold on to my Spirituality and Health magazine. I let it dry off, and I am so glad that I did. This weekend, I got to read (albeit on extremely wavy, wrinkly pages) an article by Kevin Anderson, who is a regular contributor to the magazine. And it turns out that this particular article is just what I needed to read, right at this very time in my life. Isn’t that how the Universe works?

Kevin Anderson explains the visual, which I rudimentarily created above. When you are in the middle of a sh*tstorm in your life (for lack of a better term), and everything seems chaotic and overwhelming, it is best to stay in the “I” of the storm. If the above visual represents one of life’s hurricanes which we all go through from time to time, we must be like birds. We must learn to stop fighting against the storm and to stay in the “I” of it, in order to be safe and to be centered. Kevin describes each version of the letter I/i’s this way:

i/i = “The small-i version of us is quite expert at generating fearful, stressed-out, depressing thoughts. The small-i self becomes part of the swirling storm in which we are caught when life feels like too much.”

I = “The large-I version of us is the eye of the storm. That self is capable of observing the storm swirling all about us both in the outer events of life and in our small self’s stressed-out approach to them. The large Self is the only version of us that knows how to return over and over to “I accept that this is here now.” But the large-I does not stop with noticing our judgments that life should be other than it is. It has the wisdom to act on whatever needs to be acted on from a centered, non-reactive place.”

Kevin then goes on to talk about birds who are migrating in the winter and inadvertently get caught up in big storms. Birds are wise and intuitive enough to stay in the eye of a hurricane, versus trying to desperately fly against it, or out of it. Even if the hurricane takes the birds a little off track from where they were originally planning to go, the birds know that they will eventually, safely reach landfall. He suggests that when our fear thoughts are swirling like a storm, we need to think of these thoughts as “a bell calling us to a brief meditation practice. When we notice fearful thoughts, we can breathe as if we have a direct connection to the highest virtues available.”

Just the reminder that the “I” part of us is always with us, and always available to us, in the steady, deepest center of each and every one of us, is such a comfort. The “I” part is the only part of us which is eternal, peaceful, non-judgmental, wise, and clear. The small-i versions of us are ego-based, and they are constantly changing with the winds of our outside circumstances, and the different people and the unique situations in our lives. The small-i versions of us are not eternal. They change with the winds. The bottom line of the article is the reminder to always stay with the “I” when you are feeling off track. Notice your small-i “freak outs” and gently move back to the “I” as often as needed. “I” will never steer you wrong.

Are you passing on love or are you passing on pain? Heal your pain and pass on love.

Astropophobia

My husband and I react quite differently to family situations that are emotionally charged. These situations typically hit me hard, like a tornado. I instantly feel every emotion involved surrounding the situation, and then some. I have outbursts. I cry. I scream. I laugh hysterically. I create instant, miles-long “to do” lists to try to bring back order and control to the current state of chaotic affairs. In short, everything relating to the situation, whether it is good or bad, or a mix of both, hits me all at once, and turbulently.

My husband, on the other hand, almost freezes. It’s like he sees the storm clouds coming, puts his hand up in the air and says, “Not yet.” While I am in my tirade, he is in the calm before the storm. It is at this point that I am usually screaming at him, “Don’t you care?!? Is this even affecting you?!? Aren’t you going to do something?!?”

Once we get through a particular family crisis, or even a family joy that we are dealing with, my tornado has long past. I’m back to my happy-go-lucky self. But it is different for my husband. His emotional storms don’t come in turbulent, violent cone clouds. His emotional storms are more like lingering, gray, heavy rain clouds than stay overhead and dampen his mood for a while. And this is usually the point where I am saying to him, “Get over it already, grumpy! See the bright side!”

Recently, we were dealing with yet another big change in our “in the major process of the emptying of the nest” family. My husband calmly stated to me, “I promise not to get upset with your outbursts, tears, and emotional surprises. I promise to understand where they are coming from, if you promise not to get upset with my moodiness and crankiness. Please understand where it is coming from.”

Damn. It took us almost a quarter of a century to articulate and to do our storm preparedness, in our relationship. Still, the sheepish smile of familiarity I felt inside when my husband said this and the joy of living with someone who “gets me” and trusts me “to get him”, has made all of the time and effort and energy of it all, all worth it. It makes the storms easier to weather. And the sunshine, all the sweeter.

“There cannot be a crisis next week. My schedule is already full.” – Henry Kissinger