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After the storm

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“Every storm runs out of rain,” so the song goes, and my stormy days seem over for now.

I used to really freak out over those kinds of days, when everything looked like this:

Before the storm

I thought every day from then on would lo0k like that, and I was mostly right. Stinkin’ thinkin’ will do that to you and that’s not a great way to live. But while there are still stormy days, now I know they don’t last. I know I’m strong enough to weather the storm. I still freak a little, because those days are so unsettling, and my emotions can be so–well, operatic would be a good word. Big. Loud. Overwhelming. Stormy, even.

But the storms do pass, and here’s kind of a radical thought: I think they may even be necessary.

Those days of sturm und drang are life’s reset button. You know how it is when a real storm comes along, a real crash-and-bang, hide-in-the-basement kind of thing that sort of scares the bejesus out of you? Then there’s the exquisite relief of having lived through it and coming out of the bunker to find a world washed clean. The air is so clean, you want to drink it in and let it flow through every cell in your body. The sunshine is brighter, truer, more golden. The grass is a more vibrant green, flowers seem more colorful, and as the little birds start to come out of their own hiding places, tentatively peeping at first and then bursting into song, you feel a sense of being really, truly, wonderfully, blessedly alive.

Those days clear out the gunk, clean and sweeten and refresh your view.

That’s where I am right now.

Stormy days can be a gift.

 

A note of clarification on yesterday’s post: when I wrote that I felt like giving up, I did not mean on life, but rather some of my efforts to improve mine. My life does have value to me and I am not in any way now, nor was I then, intent on harming myself. I want to be very clear about that.

 

 

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About Kymm

I'm a reader and writer and knitter, a sister, daughter, and friend. This blog is my letter, of love and hate, frustration and joy, rants and praises, to a great big world. You can read it if you want to.

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