The storm on Tuesday here in the Bay bruised and battered the region with torrential rain, high winds and all sorts of crazy conditions. When you are in the midst of a storm like that, you feel like there is no escape that you could potentially face a life that is forever altered by the conditions. Storms like that don't just dampen the streets, they dampen your spirits. But just as quickly as they come, they go and you wipe your brow relieved you made it through, happy to have survived in one piece. Sure there may be damage, but you have come out the other side. Big storms reduce us to a mode of shear survival, so when the storm calms you tend to feel a bit like you are living raw, renewed, wiped clean. There is a moment, even if brief, of huge relief. Simply, it is over.
And then, you proceed forward. You go back to life and realize that the clean up, that the moving forward is extremely hard work, tedious, and that it takes a lot of work to rebuild in a way that will better prepare you for the next inevitable storm. Some storms destroy us so much that our lives are forever altered, others batter us only enough to remember our own vulnerability, shaken not stirred so to speak.
There will always be weather, the skies are always changing and it doesn't take much for the next thing to develop. That is life, that is what makes life interesting. But with each storm, we learn better how to live and build and be that will better protect us, carry us through, alleviate the next storm. We recover, we go on, somehow. We find our way, picking our footing through the mud and downed trees and let the light of the first break of sunlight wash our faces in rejuvenating light.