Even a Thunderstorm Can Move You Forward
Last month I wrote about the power of letting go and my plans for moving into my new home. I wanted to share all the blessings of a perfectly-timed real estate deal that was unfolding effortlessly, allowing me a smooth transition from old to new.
My theme this month is Moving Forward and when I announced that it was with the intention of seeing only sunny skies.
But it’s springtime in Chicago; in barely a week we’ve basked in balmy summer air, watched lightning split the sky, and been pelted with sleety snow.
This is the nature of transition. It’s unpredictable and changeable and never follows our best-laid plans.
My own process of moving forward is looking different than I imagined. Unexpected banking issues, tax deadlines, and other seeming hardships had me feeling like someone was out to get me. I found myself complaining that “other people” were nitpicking the process just to make my life difficult.
But all of that dropped away with the news that one of my dearest friends is battling cancer. What she faces is truly unpredictable and difficult, and yet what she said to me was, “All I wish for today is that we have a thunderstorm. I love thunderstorms.”
With those words, she gave me the gift of perspective.
We are all constantly moving forward, sometimes in big, life-changing leaps, and at other times in moment-by-moment subtle shifts. Sometimes our forward motion happens in the sunshine, but just as often we need the build-up and charge of a thunderstorm to help us change.
In my own healing journey, I’ve learned that it takes a huge amount of courage to move forward through fear. My greatest leaps often occur when I practice staying connected to my breath and simply witnessing my life as it unfolds. It’s not about the goal, but about the journey.
I’ve learned that it’s okay to be afraid and that it too will pass, just like thunderstorms pass.
So I’m grateful to my friend for the grace and clarity she embodies as she moves forward into the unknown. And I’m grateful to her for reminding me that minor annoyances can’t stop me from enjoying my new beginnings.
I have all that I need. When the storms and snow pass, I’ll have enough to buy some flowers and plant a garden at my new house.
And that’s enough.