Tag: Storm

Beyond the Confines of Heart.

I’ve been feeling ill over the last several days. My body has been aching, at times, to the bone and my mobility has been greatly challenged.

As I lay in bed, listening to the sound of the wind roaring past – I could hear its ‘texture’ as a dear friend recently referred. And even though the sound shook the rafters in the house, still there was a sense of softness within it – like most of us, begging for care in its journey.

And in that moment, I grew a deepened affection for it – my fear withdrawing into the spaciousness of an open heart. Isn’t it amazing how easily perception shifts? Particularly when leaning into the familiar…a sound, a scent, a tattered image.

There’s a natural inclination within all of us, to seek the surety of steady ground. Our mistake is believing that our avoidance cures the malady of fear given the prospect of an uncertain tomorrow.

But the road that reveals is never a familiar one.

Ravi Ravindra writes, “we need to become freer and freer of the attachment to our own smallness.” Perhaps, the texture of these winds are here to remind – that we are indeed capable of something fast greater than the physical confines of heart.

In peace, my sweet friends…

Namaste ❣️

Within Each Drop of Rain.

There’s a thunderstorm looming over the horizon; it’s fattened, heavy clouds lending their warning for this day.

If you’re still enough, you can feel the changes to the air – as the winds quicken to carry its acrid loam.

Years ago, farmers would listen for these subtleties of change – though nowadays, everything seems ‘automated’.

“Mind the bees,” our neighbor would say. “You know how they get when the weather’s this rotten.”

You see, the bees forage through – in spite of the threat; becoming more determined as a means to that end. Though external factors may at times dissuade, their heart remains…

unwaveringly true.

Several years back I stood in the exact same spot; overwhelmed by the magnitude of what lay ahead. I worried the storms would be greater than I.

Never once could I have believed, that the storms carry gifts within each drop of rain.

In peace…

Namaste ❤

We Live to Become.

I held a rose petal in my hand yesterday evening. In the depths of night its velvet touch yielded a lesson in purpose and resilience. And, how the two are forever intertwined – each growing stronger in this dance of will.

Outside, a branch from a great oak lay still against the ground; a causality of wind and the futility of struggle. In the end, it’s our choice – not the strength of our limbs.

What helps us to survive is this gravity of ‘root’; our center point of calm amidst a seemingly endless storm.

Much like Lord Byron’s cloudless climes – we are ‘all the best of dark and bright.’ Our truth encompassing far more than any moment might reveal.

And, like the rose, we live to become.

In peace…

Namaste ❤️

A Dog Named Storm.

I had the most beautiful Great Dane – her name was Storm. All black with a single patch of white to her chest, and speckled drops upon her toes.

She was the matriarch of this family (even on those days when I would stubbornly insist otherwise).

Oh, and she certainly watched over my little ones. Whether a scraped knee, upset tummy, or a lofty ‘bonk’ to the head – there she was, graciously caring, as only a true “Mama Bear” could.

And, when Nudnick arrived a sweet, scared little pup – she literally curled her ‘arms’ around him to help keep him warm.

Oh, and she was right there to see me through even the darkest of my times. Through heartbreak, and many surgeries – why?

Well, good dogs never ask why.

And, then one day – sadly, she suffered a massive brain hemorrhage. As I rushed her to the animal hospital, I could think of only one thing: “Please God, please not now..”

My daughter and I sat next to her on the floor in the waiting area. We wanted so very much to comfort her, but…our hearts were nearly overcome with grief.

At first, she turned to my daughter – placing heavy paw upon her lap. And then, she turned to look my way – and, offer the same to me.

Even in her last few moments, she gave her heart to me.

I couldn’t help but to think of dear, Nudnick — who, for years, had been Storm’s little shadow.

I thought, perhaps, toys and treats might help to ease his pain. But, with each treat – Nudnick would quickly scurry away; racing back to get a little more.

When I walked into the kitchen – I couldn’t believe what I found. You see, as much as dear Nudnick loved his treats – he wanted to share them with someone he loved so much more.

The photo is of Storm’s doggie bowl and *all* of Nudnick’s favorite treats.

A testimony to unconditional love.