One last storm…

Before the storm, there’s a calm…

Within that calm is even a sense of anxiety… a suspenseful “wait.” There’s something big coming, looming in a distance of time. Will it bring excitement? Will it bring disaster? Are we prepared? Was the work done before hand… the battening down of the hatches, the food set aside, candles, heat.. are our general needs met… and more?

Further down the timeline, before it reaches us, are we even aware of what we need? The clock is ticking and the grasshopper is still playing. The ant doesn’t give a fuck as his grind has allowed him to always be prepared for most any storm. But he’s also an ant and as far as I’m aware, ants aren’t aware of all that much – ask my childhood magnifying glass. Burn, bitch.

It’s closer now, more time has passed. The pressure of the suspense is starting to push against its’ retaining walls. The clouds are darker, the wind is picking up, the rain is hitting harder. It’s a nice reprieve from the heat and the sun and to enjoy the good, the wonderful times we’re blessed with daily, we need the storm and the chaos… right? The chaos will in turn allow us to see the peace that’s around us. This is what allows chaos to be so beautiful – it’s a tornado, a storm, a whirlwind… pick one. It’s fast and without reason and it’s nothing we can control, but only something we can operate within and carefully flow with. Will we make it out the other side of the chaos? Maybe. While it’s not something we can control and not even always operate well within, we can learn.

Chaos will bring opportunities to learn, but only in hindsight. The speed at which it moves is nothing that allows for time of analytic thought, but that of reflection after its’ passing. The only thing that allows us to move with the speed of chaos is experience… having been there before. There is no replacement. No amount of preparation will always be sufficient. The first storm for any animal, humans included, is frightening as we know not what to expect. It steals our sunshine and our calm airs and then replaces it with the glooming clouds that bellow with their words and scream with their flashing light. The winds are like a slap from nature that remind you to “Wake the fuck up, take care of your space or I will remove you.”

This is not our space, it is not our universe… it is simply for rent. Our landlord collects each moment and there is no rhyme or reason to what she will bring if we don’t pay. We’re collectively here, sharing this space… billions of ants that have no collective purpose. When a few ants get rowdy and stomp on their floor which doubles as the landlord’s ceiling, she makes sure we know who’s building this is.

The storm is coming and it WILL bring chaos. Within that chaos will be opportunity and change. Change isn’t always fun or easy, but it’s necessary. The winds will slap, the rain will strike, the skies will rumble, but after what will feel like being within a blender trying to stay atop the blades, we hope to come out the other side refreshed like the other end of a cold shower.

After we endure the chaos, regardless of how well we handled it… peace will resume and we’ll see more clearly. If you try to control the chaos, thinking it will bend to your will, you reduce yourself to thinking with the ego… which is only setting yourself up for more trouble. Let go, allow the storm to do what it will, and flow through it.

The storm has passed and it was oddly pleasant. The lightening, thunder, and sheets of rain brought excitement. The fear reminded you that you’re still a part of the cycle of nature. We are not kings and queens, but merely civilians in this universe. One day we will experience our last storm, our last downpour, our last blizzard. That is true for each animal that resides on the planet Earth. If we’re lucky, we’ll know it’s our last, and we’ll be able to recline in our chair and enjoy each moment of it. We’ll know that we’re done with change and coming out the other end of the storm will be a blessing within itself. Each raindrop, snowflake, lightening strike will be one last reminder that Mother Nature owns this planet and that we are one with it. Even her wrath brings beauty… whether it’s during or after… she wants to survive more than we do… and to quote the great George Carlin, “she’ll shake us off like fleas on a dog.”

Enjoy the storm, because we never know when it may be our last.

About krisoakey

Simply a man playfully chasing enlightenment while encouraging others to join him through mockery, logical anomalies, and hand holding...LOTS of hand holding
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