Storm of Connections

For the last two hours Rufus (my constant French Bulldog companion) and I have been in the midst of tornado warnings, thunderstorm warnings, lightning, high winds, and possible hail. As I watched the local meteorology team track the storm and give updates, "We now have confirmation of a tornado on the ground..." I could feel the not-so-subtle tap on the shoulder reminding us that we are, indeed, not in charge. Experiencing Nature's power, however, I was overcome by an odd sense of comfort. It made me feel connected and extremely present. Each lightning flash was a millisecond in time that I understood could be split into infinite slivers, an eternity of awe and humility in the wink of an eye. Thunder rumbling its way into my chest making me feel aware and expansive.

Now the storm has passed, it's silent, and I feel exhausted from the experience. That level of bombardment on the essence can be draining. But in that state I feel a lot has been stripped away and I'm left with a kind of kinship that vibrates in me deeply. It's a curious mutual respect that I'm still trying to process.  

The Connection of Thunderstorms

Sitting in my dining room listening to the channel Spa on Sirius XM eating my dinner. Out the window I can see the sky darkening from the approaching thunderstorm and I can hear the thunder rolling. Birds, trees, grass, butterflies, worms, rabbits, lichens on rocks, and even microbes on the ground; we will all experience the same thunder, the same rain, and the same wind, but in our own, individual way. That may sound crazy but this gives me a deep sense of comfort. It makes me feel connected.

Storm reminders

Hearing the thunder and seeing the lightning of tonight's storm reminds me of a very simple notion: we don't own the planet. 

It's not ours. 

We belong to it, not the other way around. 

We need to respect our living spaces more. We need to treat the planet the way we would hope to be treated, with tender-loving kindness and respect.