Waiting for the Storm to Pass

Sometimes you just have to wait for that storm to pass to see the beauty of what remains. Sometimes it can be more breath-taking than before.

As I wander outside yesterday morning, coffee in hand, about to sit down in the sun for my morning ritual of attempting to write, my senses are suddenly overwhelmed.

I open the door, and the humid air fills my nostrils. My mind is taken back momentarily to that of being a child. There's a familiar smell to it. One I later recognised as the smell of an approaching thunderstorm.

There is a slight breeze which carries with it the smells of a summer morning.

The scent of jasmine lingering in the air, the sweet smell of freshly cut grass, and the smell of coming rain.

My Mum used to tell me she could smell the rain coming. I used to be fascinated by that.

It wasn't until I grew older did I understand the what that smell was. And to know that it also possesses a charge in the air. An electricity. Some of us are highly sensitive and have an inbuilt barometer of sorts.

So here I sat. The humid air clinging to my skin. There's a heaviness about it. My hair is relenting to the moisture in the air. The wispy baby hairs that frame my forehead springing into loose ringlets.

And it got me thinking about moisture and the important role it plays in our lives. Or pressure for that matter.

Every intense reaction results in moisture being released. A pressure build up in a sense.

After a really hot day, we will often see the worst storms. The storms purpose is to cool things down.

Experiencing intense joy or deep despair will result in tears. Tears contain a chemical which calms you.

Becoming aroused - you don't need an explanation of the mechanics involved here.

Being sick will result in liquid being expelled from your body. Releasing the toxins.

Giving birth will result in your breasts releasing milk. The life source for the child.

Intense exertion will mean you break into a sweat. To regulate your body temperature.

But back to this humidity bringing a feeling of nostalgia flooding back to me.

And it makes me think it's so much easier to be a child. Not a care in the world. Not having to worry about a myriad of decisions that are thrust upon us on a daily basis.

They say what doesn't kill you makes you stronger. I say what doesn't kill you, changes you.

Tears you up inside a little bit and breaks you in a sense. It transforms you into something different. You can't go back to who you were yesterday. Because yesterday you were a different person. You can't un-see things. Un-learn things. Un-feel things. You just can't. They have all happened to serve your own evolution.

So what about moisture and any of this playing some type of role in evolution? I don't think it's the role of water that has played a part as much as the role of pressure. Too much pressure will always have an intense reaction.

But pressure can be for your own good. After all, it's how diamonds are made.

So feel whatever it is you are feeling. Let your intuition guide you. Pay attention to your dreams, both literally and metaphorically. Pay attention to your surroundings. And allow pressure to transform you. It all serves a purpose.

Sometimes you just have to wait for that storm to pass to see the beauty of what remains. Sometimes it can be more breath-taking than before.