I hear the worry in her voice as she asks, “Alfred, it looks bad out there, what do you think, is everything going to be OK?” “Oh Rosie, don’t you worry about a thing, everything is going to be just fine.” My father's reply to my mother. This conversation has played out all throughout my life. My Dad, the one who weathers storms like none other, has helped us navigate through some pretty heavy stuff lately. We have always looked to him for reassurance. So it's only natural when the storms of life pass overhead that this question is asked of him time and time again. His forever reply, "Don't ya worry about a thing."
I just read the definition of “weathering a storm”: To experience something and survive it.
The storms of life are something we all face. It is a reality to our human experience. At times it becomes a series of holding on tight, hunkering down and taking a protective stance until the clouds pass. It’s exhaustive, it wares at our strength, but it's during these times that we quickly find out what we are made of. I believe we are a lot stronger then we realize. A core inner strength that rises when called upon.
But still, I am curious, how do people like my Dad seemingly ride the high waves in such heroic fashion? Whereas others, like myself, ride out the waves in what feels like a rubber dinghy with no paddle, one precarious plunge away from drowning. Recently my Dad and I were driving in the car together and since he was my captive audience I began pelting him for information to all my burning questions about life. “Dad, how is it that you can face hard things and loss with such bravery and I obsess and suffer through desperate emotions that render me helpless? How do you do that? How are you so fearless and I am such a mess of raw emotions?” “Well Lynne, I just do it, life has hard things that happen from time to time, that’s just how life is and there is nothing you can do about it and it doesn’t help to worry about everything. I have learned that you just get through it because there is no other choice.” I love that my Dad doesn’t overcomplicate things. He’s very matter of fact. “You just get through it…” What I walked away with that day is a resolve to dig deep, take a big breath, keep your head down and for goodness sakes, don't stop moving forward. Somehow things have a way of finding their place and working out. The many cycles of life. Some days it rains and the winds may howl but eventually the sun reappears and shines upon our faces once again.
The older I get the more I look to nature to help me sort out all these tough emotions. My mother and I talk a lot about the calming affect the outdoors has on us. The sway of the trees, the birds melodic tunes, the intricate details of a blooming flower, the heady scent of pine. It all plays a part in realigning the fractured places within me.
A couple months ago we noticed a fox den in our farmyard. I would sit out there and watch the pups tussle and play with one another. They didn’t have a care in the world. Biting each other’s tails, rolling on the ground with one another, they were so carefree and at ease. I learned a lot by watching their light hearted play.
I will leave you with these images as a reminder that no matter what battles you are facing today you will find your way through it. The clouds will pass over and the sun will shine again. It will, it always does, for every morning it rises without fail, it's very faithful.