“The storm will pass. Your heart and mind will settle.”
Storms bring cleansing rain and wind that blows away the chaff, splinters and debris of the soul. Without tempests, we would not know tranquility. Without hurricanes, we would not appreciate the light tropical breezes.
Lightning fires the synapses in the brain. Thunder is far more preferable than the noise of jackhammers on the street or the jawing of political pundits on cable TV.
Birds fly in the rain.
Gales subside, clouds dissipate, the sun appears bringing healing warmth. Critters emerge from burrows, and the suburbanites rub their eyes, sip their coffee, and crawl out of snug boxes. The cycle begins anew.
What do people do with the balmy days of calm between the chaos? We re-enter the rat race. We run our errands, check off our to-do lists, make our excursions, jaunts, and picnics, and go to the sun and the sand. We enact the plans we made… when? When we locked ourselves inside, barricaded during the storms.
Storms incite riots of togetherness, lovers snuggling in bed, and parents wrapping arms around frightened yet magically consoled children.
Storms also encourage solitude, curling up with a book by the fire, and time to think.
Meditation allows the heart and mind to settle. At the end of meditation, a breeze stirs, droplets fall, clouds roil, and the whisper of a thought grows into a voice shouting across wind and rain, and the tornado chasers pack up and charge toward the funnel clouds!