I write in the morning gray light seeking guidance from within as stormy winds blast ice through the air. Earlier I sat listening to the whipping wind with silent tears of past holdings with random thoughts of writing it all away.
When I woke up in the darkness, I sat in child’s pose stretching and thinking funny philosophical thoughts that have nothing to do with my impending day.
In the dark of the night as the cold thrusted the warm away, I slept hidden under the weighted blankets of unknown. Before I fell asleep, I watched the sky’s electric light display while casually playing guitar.
Storms were rolling through. Storms that usually wait for another time of year.
Before that, I was worried to tears for a friend in the midst of her deepest fears. She is east of me and storms were rolling through in grand magnitude.
They had weakened and moved north by time they traveled to me.
Sometimes it happens that way.
I have family east of me and sent them loving pleas of caution and sharing my love. But, they ignored me as family does.
This never was my worry, my concern. I’ve been fascinated by storms, thrilled to feel whipping winds and watch tumultuous twirling clouds with flashes of cracked lights.
I love to deeply listen to the skies cries and falling tears. Feel the awakening of the freshly washed land.
They remind me of our shared cries and falling tears.
You know, baby
There's never been protection
In all the history of human connection
Come on, darling
It's alright to show me
You don't ever need to be lonely
Once you start to open your heart
I saw you crying
I started crying
'Cause we're all in this together
Ben Lee - “We’re All In this Together”
It was my ma who stayed glued to the weather radar watching, worried, waiting to see if we were touched by the rage of storms.
A daily check in with the weatherperson to know the day, week’s outlook. A plea to cut visits short to avoid possible stormy onsets. A phone call to make sure you were safe in the midst of a raging storm.
I don’t know if her storm keeping was for fear or fascination. I can no longer ask.
As age has graced me, I’ve felt the fears of storms start to rise within from too many weather updates, pleas and phone calls.
A tiny fearful nag tapping my skull as I stare into the dark looming shelf clouds.
Still I love to stare at the rage and power of an impending storm. I hear my ma once did this determined to stare into the power of a raging tornado.
I understand her determination.
Sometimes I wonder how fascinations turn into such dreadful fears. Then I think of being glued to the weather livestream watching storms rage through all the places of loved ones. I think of my plea to be safe texted to family east of me. I think about my worried tears shed as my friend sat alone while storms raged above and all around.
Funny how our fascinations and fears are not our own. Tangled threads of too many unknowns.
Ryan Hall Y’all: LIVE - Tornado Coverage With Storm Chasers On The Ground - Live Weather Channel...
“Don’t be scared, be prepared” - Ryan Hall
Yesterday was a sunny 70 degrees and today is a blistering gray snowy 30 degrees. Any meteorologist will tell you that these are the conditions for a perfect storm. The warm and cold crashing into one another as the day turns to night.
A reminder of impermanence and preciousness. Impermanent as constant change changing when it changes. Preciousness as this moment only exists for this moment and will never be again.
Don’t hold too tightly, but don’t forget to be in the hold.
It’s a bit early for these storms.
Then I wonder what is too early as I close my eyes and sigh.
It is now my turn to be the storm keeper.
