In my ever-increasing age, I find myself repeating themes. (Then again, reflecting on past conversations with friends, I acknowledge a pattern of repetition no matter my age.) Nevertheless, similar to previous posts, I continue to spend time considering how overwhelming emotions can affect us.
I studied some authors who developed sound strategies for reducing harmful effects of these personal situations. The incidents in which you lose control; in which you think in error or don’t think at all; in which you say or do something destructive. Some suggested tools work for me, although I require more practice to avoid regrets.
We all experience storms in our life. I believe I have a responsibility to reduce any harm that may occur as a a result of these unchecked emotions. Conversely, I also see some of these storms as necessary to our growth.
I appreciate that climate change has increased the destructive nature of storms. Similarly, societal/worldly changes seem to have increased the severity of human reactions.
However, storms have always played a role in Mother Nature and her cycle; so too in our personal journey. A safe summer, thunder storm cleanses the air, cleanses the neighbourhood. A safe winter storm slows down the rush and insulates the underground activity.
At some point, the storm will come. My heart will block logical thought, reducing my control. I need to remember it will pass. It’s natural so there is no need to hold onto shame. Most importantly, I must try to reduce any fallout to others.
I think I’m searching for a balance; the perfect storm.
Rain clouds pushed me just inside the empty house, A shell without shelter, The door still wide open, I joined the storm’s fury, Synchronizing our chaos, Wind gusts splattered drops over my face, Diluting my tears, At its peak, the downpour thundered off my inside walls, Drowning my rationale, Nature’s power commandeered everything, all stimuli, A wild heart in charge, Forces blocked out time, blind to any meter, Hours, seconds, even years A subtle softening in the rain, in the wind, Grateful to no longer taste my heartbeat, The torrent gradually phased into rhythm, walls halted their quiver, Silently moving outside my body, Drizzle lingered past courtesy, a wet weight to everything, Accompanying my exhales, Fog still enveloped my perspective, my surroundings, But thoughts were now possible, Latching the door, the aftermath flavoured my beliefs, A calm chaperone for my hopes, Hopes to weather the next storm B.Toner January 2023