Being Breath

stories from the wilderness of everyday life

Before The Storm

I love the moments before a fall storm.


The air seems suspended, holding its breath, while the charcoal clouds sneak in and cast an eerie darkness over everything below.  A few gusts of chilled wind make the leaves, and me, shiver.

There is no way of knowing what power lies ahead....only that the potential exists.

It might be just a few raindrops and gentle rolls of thunder; it might be a furious storm that sends branches hurling across our rooftop.

We all go about our business in the growing darkness, yet we feel the slight unease and titillating anxiety arising from some ancestral knowing.

There is power in this.

We are forced to recognize, if only on that bone-knowing level, that we have no more control than the leaf dangling tentatively from the branch.  The storm may or may not cause our destruction.  We must continue on in the face of this unknowing.

I love to smile as the wind whips my hair and my breath starts to quicken (is it safe to be out here?).

There is beauty in not knowing, there is beauty in destruction, there is beauty in the silence after the storm and the creation that continues once it is but a memory.

And to practice smiling in the midst of all of that?

 

Ah.

 

I do so love the times before a storm.

 

Namaste.