The Eye of a Storm: Awake, Alive, Everchanging

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She blew in like a tornado, stripping away all that was not bolted down or carrying the strength of a proper cement foundation. Those that buried their heads deep below the shifting sands were now naked and shamed. Heads erect with eyes blinded by sudden blasts of light, they cried pitifully. Where was their safety? What was with all this wind and light? Who asked for all this turmoil?

By God, who pissed her off this time?

Those that clung to that which was material and, therefore, fleeting were astonished to find themselves left with nothing but themselves. No homes to run to and find warmth in. No cars to drive them away from…this. Wreckage. No money to purchase comfort. No…anything.

All of the shocked humans stood there in a silenced state of numbness and awe after the storm passed. It had taken only seconds to leave; while years to build all that they’d just lost. In one fell swoop, she’d come in and torn them…their possessions…dreams, hopes….to shreds. She made them wonder where their strength would come from and what their priorities actually were. She’d managed to both open many an eye while simultaneously flooding them with tears of anguish and desolation.

Who are we when the dust settles and our lives are completely and utterly shaken to the core? What is left of us? How can one pretend to be anything but what is right out there for all to see…naked. Minus the comfort of our wallets and the glamour of our grandiose portfolios, what are we? WHO ARE WE?

What had we done, they wondered, to deserve such heavy, powerful bursts of tyranny in the form of a natural disaster…with the magnitude of steel and the anger and massive size of Goliath against them. They were humans after all. And humans are subject to foibles. Everyday. Every hour. Every minute.

Did the tornado not understand her power – her raw ability to traumatize and belittle?…to stigmatize and destroy?  Did she release her pain through inflicting wrath on to innocents? Or rather, did she knowingly hope to wake the complacent. Shake the thin veneer of the ignorant, overblown establishment and offer an opportunity for the masses to now gather as equals – each with nothing but the threads upon their backs – and to become people of change and growth instead of stagnancy and greediness. The halves and the have-nots were now all together. They wept together, they clung to each other, they prayed for better days and they would now prove what kind of character they each individually held. Who would stand up and lead? Who would care for the injured and sick? Who would find food? Who would share what they’d managed to salvage?

Just moments later it was as if nothing had happened. The air was clear, the sky a beautiful blue and the sound a peaceful softness. The roar was gone, yet the scars were still open wounds. Would she feel better now, having left such devastation in her wake? Could they ever pick themselves up and forgive her? Or would they need to change and adapt to new rules, new lives, new-ness…? She had just changed hundreds of thousands of lives in a blink of an eye.

What might you be left with? How can you re-prioritize your life in the coming new year? If all you were left with was the air you breathe, the clothes on your back and your loved ones, what would YOU do? What might you learn about yourself and others?

May your New Year bring you clarity and the openness to change and grow into who you are meant to be.

Peace.

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