5: The Calm After the Storm
Spirals, Anchors, and Steadfast Ships
Sometimes we find ourselves in ongoing situations that leave us wondering whether we should cry or laugh. Doing both is important if you ask me: first one, then the other.
Moments most of us know all too well. We go through our day completely unbothered, and then suddenly, we receive a message that makes our world spiral from one second to the next. An unexpected meeting turns our world upside down in a matter of minutes. Experiencing the joy of coming home completely exhausted from a day of non-stop problem solving – only to face another one right after entering the door.
When life’s plot twists show up in full glory, they make us pinch ourselves in complete disbelief about what the hell is happening right now. And more often than not, it seems like one catastrophe is directly followed by the next, barely allowing us to catch our breath in the in-between. These phases tend to make us question our sanity and it’s tempting to remain seated in the why – why me, why now, why at all?
And for a moment, it’s important to sit with these stirred emotions. Allowing them to unfold and present to us whatever message they’re carrying. They ask for no further action than us listening, giving them space to come up to the surface. And when they’re done delivering the information, we can let them go. Working through the emotion means actively encountering it by allowing it to move through without restrictions. This is cultivating a stable inner world, which will eventually mirror on the outside.
Surviving the initial storm is what counts, not the aesthetics of it. We don’t need to gracefully dance through the fire when everything around us is burning in flames, looking completely unbothered with a relaxed smile on our faces. It’s okay to do it with eyes wide open in panic and beads of sweat on the forehead, hands on our knees, panting with exertion.
I believe that the most precious things in life require the willingness to fight if we want to keep them in the long term. As much as smooth sailing is part of the journey, there will be hardships. And the sheer fact that we’ve encountered one isn’t the sign to leave – it’s the one to stay. Our chance to circle back to the initial why – the irreplaceability of a connection built to withstand such storms. This is facing reality in the bravest way – staying soft despite the fear. Knowing damn well how much it can hurt, and still choosing not to close off because yes, it’s worth the risk.
And after the storm? That’s up for us to decide. We get to choose what to do with the calm, how we decorate it and what we’re cultivating in the newly found space. We can sprinkle little moments of rest between chores and responsibilities, or handcraft coping strategies for the next storm that follows.
Blasting songs in the car. Dancing or writing it out at night. Sharing it with someone over coffee. Physically working through it in the gym or elsewhere. Anything allowing us to actively process.
We were made to sustain a storm. What might feel like falling apart is not necessarily just that. A forced deconstruction can actually turn out to be what we needed to evolve in hindsight. An opportunity to rethink and refeel familiar patterns and beliefs we’re so used to act upon. It can be the moment we’ll later refer to as the turning point that set us up on the right track.
And no matter how crushed we think a storm might have left us – we are still deserving of all the love that is out there waiting. Being held by people we can show our true colours to. Safe havens, a chosen family. Flawlessness isn’t a requirement for connection, but devotion. Realness. Working up the courage to choose vulnerability over fear, again and again. And we deserve to be met with the same willingness from the ones we’re so bravely showing up for. We deserve the calm after the storm.
Carry-On:
What’s your calm?
How does it look or feel?
Is it somebody, something, or somewhere?
This week, give yourself permission to actively seek it.