This feels appropriate given we’ve had storm callum here in the UK these past few days.
I kind of love storms, something about them is incredibly soothing to me. It’s the weather getting angry with thunder, raging with lightening, sobbing with rain. Its grounding to me somehow, that the world has the good and the bad and the sun and the rain and the wind, and the thunder and everything else. And I know its got sod all to do with the planet feeling things, and yet somehow it makes me feel okay about not being okay.
If it’s a beautiful day and it is sunny and warm and blue skies, I feel guilty for being anything but happy. But when it’s stormy, there’s something comforting about it. Hot chocolate and books and films, and blankets and lamps and safety, inside, my little bubble. Safe and enclosed with a raging world outside my doorstep. And I can cry and I can be mad and I can be small, and young, and take care of myself without anybody asking questions.
Sometimes, a lot of the time actually, I feel like what’s going on inside my body is one massive, unpredictable, potentially life threatening storm. And if its nice and calm out, I have to try to calm the storm inside, make it okay, face the outside world in a way that’s acceptable.
And then sometimes it storms outside too, and all of a sudden it feels okay. It feels justified, the world is storming too, reflecting how I feel. And it takes a layer of pressure off, and sometimes an extra layer too… Because I watch the weather losing its shit, and somehow I feel a little better, like its expressing everything that i can’t. I watch the storm, and feel all the terrible feelings inside me dissipate a little.
This word also reminds me of my therapist, who tells me it’s okay to feel things. That feelings are like the weather and they will pass, change, evolve. She’s so right, they do. You just have to sit it out.