Weathering the moment.
Out of the silence of the night emerged the thunder and the lights. My girls ran into my room with a worried look on their faces. I told them to jump into bed with me. Almost humorously, the girls squeezed into one third of the bed until our bodies were lined up one next to another. We laid there listening to the sounds and watching the lights for a bit. One of my girls asked me, “Will this ever stop, will everything be okay?”. I answered that likely we would wake up to a clear and crisp morning.
Today as Sonia walked downstairs for breakfast, she said, “Momma, you were right, it is clear outside”. We smiled.
Weather patterns mimic life in a beautiful way. They move through for as long as they need to. We couldn’t will the weather away if we wanted. We simply have to ride it through. No matter how intense, eventually something clears. I don’t mean to say it clears and always leaves sunny skies behind and things exactly as they were. Often, we find that something has shifted, branches scattered about, trees windblown, perhaps even complete destruction along its path.
Similar to the weather patterns of nature, we require a lot of faith and grace to be with the weather patterns of life. At times we need to find shelter to feel grounded and safe, other times we can open to it and be with what is passing through. Slowly, I have learned that I have to be willing to sit with things in my body for as long as they need the space. No matter how difficult a circumstance feels, until I have rested fully with it and received its message and often its mystery, it remains with me. Sometimes it is a moment, other times it takes months, years, even lifetimes.
Call me crazy, but I believe that all storms can lead us back home, even if in convoluted, at times challenging ways. Pema Chodron describes it eloquently, “You are the sky, everything else, it’s just the weather”. Grace allows us to be with the weather and to eventually return back to Grace itself.