The Storm

I’ve been thinking about balance—thinking about storms. Not much can grow in darkness, but maybe the darkness is sometimes a necessary catalyst for change. When I’m playing around with a word or an idea, I usually look to nature. What does the world around me have to offer on the subject?

If seeds or plants are exposed to complete darkness during germination, they experience a rapid elongation of their cells. This is an emergency response; the plant is desperate to return its tissues to the light where it can again photosynthesize and live. It’s analogous to standing on the bottom of a swimming pool and stretching to get your nose above water for a breath of life-giving oxygen.

I often shun the darkness, thinking happiness is only found in the light. However, this may be an unbalanced view of reality. Some things can only be learned by walking in the dark; some lessons can only be learned in a storm. Right? Maybe the darkness causes an emergency response—a rapid elongation of my soul as it reaches forward, straining for the light.

I’ve had to learn to let go of the idea that my connection to a thing is tied to a feeling. It’s tied to my actions. My feelings have ruled the bulk of my life, but I’m learning that while they are valid, they are not reality. If I love someone or something, I treat it with respect; I nurture it. I do this no matter how I feel. Being a single dad has taught me this.

The same is true of my spiritual path. I just put in the work, and I do it no matter how I feel. Maybe sometimes when I feel the worst, or when I’m struggling the most, it’s because I am growing. I get this idea in my head sometimes that “once this happens, I’ll be good.” I forget it’s the road of recovery, not the road to recovery. The journey lasts a lifetime, and happiness and peace are here, now. The power is in me, but it’s not of me. It has always been there, provided I am willing to seek it.