Planning For Inclement Weather
In my quiet time today, I was thinking about the last few months of my life and what a complete and total chaotic experience it’s been. Never have I encountered such uncertainty and threat to my stability. I’ve grown stronger and expanded more in this current, but ever-changing terrain I’ve been attempting to navigate, than I have in my last 51 years combined. My life has reminded me of the evolving plans I encounter at my son’s school when there’s a likely inclement weather event. Tentative plans are in place, yet there’s the knowledge that at any time, unpredictable storms could, and often do, make the roads impassable that I’ve chosen for my pilgrimage, requiring flexibility, and determining an alternate timeline, route, or even dismissal of plans all together.
Nothing But Strict Observation
Today, as I sat quietly looking out into the back yard, I watched as the wind was blowing the trees. Leaves were falling, beams of sunlight would streak through, shining in their radiant beauty, only to disappear a few moments later behind cloud cover. I had the strangest sense of understanding and parallel as I watched nature unfold, ushering in some darker clouds, blowing winds, and threat of potential rain. There was nothing but strict observation on my part, and the understanding that there is no controlling the weather. It didn’t succumb to my plans or desires, it simply is, and unpredictably so. If I choose to react negatively to the threat of bad weather it will not, in fact, change the course of the weather. It will simply change the trajectory of my day, by creating negativity and unnecessary emotional turmoil, regarding something completely out of my control. My only decision is how I want to proceed, based on what is being presented to me at the time, and the recognition those plans may need adjusting as more information is made available.
The Unexpected Storms Of Life
Just as with the ever-changing weather, our lives are constantly in flux. The best laid plans are often thwarted by the unexpected storms of life, that require our astute observation and consideration to work around, with the plasticity needed to alter course when necessary. It’s easy to be overwhelmed, frustrated, or even angered by not only the uncertainty, but the consequences that these life storms create. I have wondered so often of late why such intense events happen in our lives, yet I’ve been shown time and again that a period of clearing always precedes growth.
Extracting Trees Of Turmoil
I thought about the intensity of a tornado and the damage it leaves in its wake. It barrels through the landscape, stripping away exterior facades, imploding buildings, and pulling up firmly rooted, adult trees and tossing them like a child’s toy. Many times the very things that vex us, hold us back, and continually devastate our lives unbeknownst to us, are much like those adult trees. They’re our personal trees of turmoil. They are narratives, patterns, false beliefs, past hurts, and other areas festering below the surface, firmly and deeply rooted, often for decades, that require an impetus great enough to strip away all the exterior facades keeping them buried, and strong enough to extract them forcefully by the roots, to insure no further regrowth. A gentle wind would have no bearing on such. It often takes tremendous life storms that rock our world, strip us of all we think we have and need, and leave us laid bare before we understand. It’s these tumultuous events and upheaval that brings us to the place we not only recognize, but learn to accept, it is in the excavating and extracting of our trees of turmoil that we bring about the needed, healthy clearing that precipitates growth and forward movement.
Still Standing And Tranquilly So
I’m sitting here eerily calm today, just as if I were in the eye of one of the hurricanes I’ve been through while living in Florida. Having just experienced some devastating winds that threatened to pull my life apart, I’m yet still standing and tranquilly so. Strangely, calm is reigning, even though there’s damage and debris from the round of life storms that have just rolled through. There is pain, as any extraction leaves a sensitive, gaping hole, that only time and appropriate tending will heal. Yet, there’s a recognition and understanding that there are more bands of potentially harsh weather coming at some point. Knowing that, I’m somehow still serene, not fearful, nor am I cowering. I’m simply watching the weather and weighing the available information, understanding if adverse effects are encountered, there’s always clean up and restoration that comes afterwards. There is that brief moment of taking cover as the storm passes over, yet there is no reason to remain permanently in hiding.
A New Plane Of Existence
This is a new plane of existence for me. I’m calm and accepting, rather than reactive, even as I’m tending my wounds and clearing the debris. The past would have dealt me the usual hand of cards, stacked with pain, remorse, self-doubt, isolation, fear, and a newly donned protective posture. A battening down of the hatches, if you will, protecting against the next band of heavy winds and battering that are sure to ensue at some future point. Only this time, there is no battening down. There is no closing up or protective posture. There is no self-debasing, painful inner discourse, or trepidation about what future potential storms may bring to bear. There is simply a survey of the landscape, an assessment of the past damage done and the necessary intervention to address and clear it, along with the directional tweaking of potential paths leading forward, as tomorrow is a new day.
No Longer Afraid Of Getting A Little Wet
I’m just about to walk out the door to visit my mom. A recent injury has left her in a rehab facility. I’m taking her some needed supplies, but outside a storm is brewing, the wind is blowing, and it has just started to rain. I could choose to not go out. I could cower in my home, fearful I might again be affected, but my mom would be so disappointed and I would be less having not seen her. Instead, I think I’ll venture out into the storm, but I’ll take my umbrella, for I’m no longer afraid of getting a little wet!
Love and Light,
Laura Lum Corby