After the Storm The duel of the warring clouds Hath ended with the day; Their scintillant, electric blades Have ceased their fearful play; The pent up fury of their hate Hath found at last release, And o’er the tempest-stricken earth Broods now the hush of peace. The passing of the hurricane Hath swept the sultry skies; The clearness of the atmosphere Brings jubilant surprise; The mountain peaks are glorified With freshly-fallen snow, And, stealing o’er their coronets, Appears the sunset glow. An hour since, a torrid heat Oppressed the languid frame; The wind was as the khamseen’s breath, The solar touch seemed flame; But now the air rejuvenates, The breeze refreshment brings, The lustrous leaves drop diamonds, The lark with rapture sings. Fear not, dear heart! life’s darkest storms Shall likewise end in light; Behind the blackest thundercloud The sun shines clear and bright; Once more celestial heights shall wear Their sheen of spotless snow, And on the bravely steadfast soul The smile of God shall glow. John L Stoddard
Ahhh September, I’m so happy to greet you and the dryer, cooler weather you will start teasing me with in the coming weeks. I’m thoroughly tired of this monsoon season.
I’m afraid of storms, and there have been plenty of them this year.
The past few weeks have been difficult for me, and breaking my foot ten days ago hasn’t helped. I feel trapped at the house (it’s my driving foot) and more alone than ever.
For most of my life, I have written schedules and kept multiple calendars and had daily to do lists as a measure for whether or not I was doing a good job or not. As a child and teenager, it was a way to bring some semblance of control to a chaotic, uncertain life. It turned into something much more as time went by.
I threw them away earlier this year and decided my worth should not be based on whether or not I completed a to-do list or did everything on the schedule well.
Getting rid of them felt good initially. But in moments of angst and uncertainty I crave them, because even if they pointed to me as a failure, they were comfortable and known.
I’ve learned that while I don’t need them, I do need a routine and constants in my life. I need the same breakfast every morning. I need a consistent morning rhythm, especially before work, and I need an equally consistent one after the work day has ended. Not as a measure of anything, but more as a guide to ensure that my anxiety doesn’t go off the charts.being overly alarming and unmanageable.
Even at the office there’s a rhythm to the day that is both familiar and comforting. It varies some from day to day, and even from season to season, but there’s a definite ebb and flow that allows for unexpected opportunities without
I haven’t found that in my home life (yet). There have been too many changes, too much uncertainty for those constants to be made known in the new way they will be. But they will. I’ve already discovered some of the “constants” in relationship: I’m learning who I can depend on in both the lovely and the ugly moments of life.
I just wish it were a little less painful.