Be the Storm. You Are.

Do you remember what the earth feels like after a storm?  


A storm bursting with power,




and swirling winds that knock you off your feet and call you to dance and whirl and run all at the same time.   


A force so powerful that it could destroy you,

could destroy me,

could destroy others

(and some storms do)

but SO ALIVE that it calls to the wildest parts of your soul.


Do you remember? 



Do you remember the smell of the earth after a storm?  


The sight of sidewalks strewn with twigs, broken branches, and earthworms who have come up for air.


The sound of children splashing in puddles and mommas telling them to stop to spare their shoes, but only half-heartedly, because even though shoes are hard to come by, so is joy. 


The mommas and these little ones, they can feel it…

the power and the pure gift of it all.


Of the newness,


Of the possibilities uncovered by this terrible and glorious cleansing.



Do you remember, Dear One? 



You, who believe that you are defined by the collection of failures that you store hidden behind the guest towels in the hall closet.



You, who are allowing yourself to be confined by smallness.


Do you remember?



Do you remember how you watched from the window and felt a longing almost as powerful as your fear as you imagined what it would be like to BE the lightening that strikes from sky to earth making beauty and light out of pure energy,


Out of the power of the very breath of BEING.


I…                  AM.                              



Do you remember?



Do you remember how you could almost see yourself there?



Standing with arms wide open and held high, laughing as the wind whipped your hair, and the rain pelted your body, and the lightening ran through your fingertips and down, down, down to the earth and out, out, out to the world. 



For that brief moment you were the tempest,

the creator,

the leader,

the wild woman,

the wise old crone who radiates mastery from within. 



And.    You.     Are. 







The storm is not safe.  You are right about that, Dear One.  It is not tame. 


And at times it is terrifying. 


But it is also exquisitely beautiful. 



You, my Beauty, are The Storm.  Be.