Whilst I lay in my bed early on this Sunday morning, I was listening to the wind.
The noise was most intrusive and quite wearing as it has blown for several days now. Then I was thinking about the odd thing about the wind that it has such power over us but we cannot actually see it, give it a colour, a form or something we can touch or hold.
Yesterday I ventured down onto the beach with our dog to witness the waves, high and rolling from the wind and crashing on the shore. It got me thinking also whether there is a metaphor for life in there. When the weather gets rough we batten down the hatches so to speak and give ourselves permission to hibernate and wait for the storm to pass.
So maybe when your world is being stirred up like the wind and your control has invisibly been taken from under your feet, why not sit back and let the storm pass and enter into that blissful space called ‘Rest’. For tomorrow is another day and the calm always follows the storm.