Sometimes I have to hunker down and ride out the storm. When I smell dusty rain on the wind, my instinct is to outrun it. Faster. Faster. A good friend can ease the panic.
The worst choice I can make is to deny the gathering clouds and then become incensed at the arrival of the inevitable. Of course, I’m referring to the turbulent crashing waves of emotion that swing between the uncontrollable abyss and fleeting glorious heights.
My first thought yesterday was “surrender” to being engulfed by my own disturbing, crazy dialogues. My second spoken out loud guidance was “Patience, Crow, things always work out.” However, knowing that the pendulum will obey the laws of physics and swing back to the other side, doesn’t help. Sometimes my logic and my gut-knowing are lost to each other.
Do we all try to control gravity? Arrest the natural arc of that emotional pendulum? Do we all joyously surrender to the bright side of our moods and reject the rest. I think some people may cling to consuming depression as a badge, the adult award for “facing reality.”
Today the sun is out, and I feel refreshed, emptied of chaos. I am humbled in the realization that these storms are as natural as the turning of the earth—and sometimes (like yesterday) surrendering takes all the will power I can muster.
The wise saying is that we all have our demons. If I don’t acknowledge their existence, how can I invite them to leave?