Two nights ago I woke to the sound of the sky opening… loud and cracking thunder, flashes of light and driving rain.
At first I was a little scared. I honestly don’t know why... storms have never frightened me before. But there was something about the pounding magnitude and heavy darkness of this one that made me feel uncommonly shaken and insignificant.
Feeling into it now I can see how the chaos of that thunderous tempest mirrored the chaos I have been feeling inside myself these last few months. Something deep is unravelling at the core of my being and I have been swirling inside the stormy transition.
So much uncertainty. Change. A bittersweet and crumbling deconstruction of the familiar. Over and over I am being shown that now is a time let go. To allow what is old and untrue to burn to the ground. And to give birth, amidst the embers and ash, to a new way of being.
Someone asked me if I thought I was having having a midlife crisis and I had to laugh. I guess if you look at it through a certain lens you could call it that, but I don't see it that way. Feels more like a midlife opportunity. A rite of passage. An invitation to essence and authenticity and unquestionable truth.
So when the sky booms, the rains come and I am trembling in my bones, I hope to both embrace the darkness and stay close to the light. Living in the tension of the opposites and the heart of the paradox. This is my yoga.
Breathing. Growing. Loving.