like a Storm

I sit cross legged in my bed. It’s a Sunday morning after a long night of storms. The storm woke me last night. I lay awake as the lightning danced across the sky. Flashes of light playing with the shadows in my room. Then came the rain, pelting the earth. The trees swayed violently back and forth. The storm raged and roared, and this morning, the sun is back.

To me, the storm is symbolic of the build up of emotions and the outpouring of release. As the water evaporates, and the dark clouds begin to form, the wind propels the storm forward. It’s a grief, a hurt, a wrong doing causing a small sliver of pain to take root in your chest. Sometimes it roots and rips through you quickly leaving minimal impact. Sometimes it comes to nothing. Other times, it rages and takes over everything. Nothing is spared from the outpour of emotions that follow.

Physical exertion of any kind, verbal expression, the emotion is too much to control. Everything is spinning and swirling, nothing is safe. Sometimes, if it’s too much, it seems like a good idea to numb the pain. Have fun for a little bit and forget your worries. Chemicals. All the chemicals. Pour them in your bloodstream. Novcaine to the emotions you're feeling. There you go.

The pounding headache and impending stomach problems wake you. In full force, the decisions made last night… can’t finish that thought, the room is spinning. As you fall restlessly in and out of sleep, the thoughts, memories circle. Over and over in your head. The very emotion you wanted to numb is attacking you from all angles.

It’s a vicious cycle we all fall prey to, myself included. Yet there is a lesson to be learned. After the chaos of a storm, there’s the calm. The peace. The quiet. A moment of transformation when the rain no longer beats down on the earth. Instead, it’s laying gently on the leaves of the tress and collecting in puddles on the ground.

So too does the processing of emotion give one the opportunity to transform. It’s the smallest shift in the smallest corner in some part of the brain, but it happens when you learn to embrace instead of numb.

Remembering this lesson is the tricky part. However, I’ve got nothing but time to work on cementing that.

The sun is starting to rise higher in the sky. It’s a cool day and the trees are waving at one another to the rhythm of a small breeze. Clear headed and unburdened, I will go embrace my day.