There’s something about a blustery midwest day in October where the wind interrupts you and the drizzle of rain feels even more damp than normal somehow. It’s oddly comforting even though it typically feels like discomfort ripping across your skin, face, and hair. The song of the wind chimes sounds more chaotic than normal, like broken bells in a Catholic church ringing through a sleepy town. It’s the kind of day where it halts everything else. It limits what you otherwise might go do, and instead flips an agenda on its head, giving you permission to stay inside, or bundled under a covered porch with nothing really going for you except for embracing this new sense of time you have ahead of you.
Sometimes the discomforting or inconveniences or interruptions are what we need to bring a sense of balance back to our life. Things that slow us down in a world that riles us up.
It’s like getting stopped by a train when you’re in a hurry, or waiting for the red light to turn green. These are breaks in our lives that are good for us. It gives us a moment of pause, of reprieve, of recognizing that we have a choice to embrace the break that’s just been gifted us. Getting stopped by a train or burrowing in on a blustery and rainy day reminds us that our world doesn’t revolve around us. We are a (significant) moving part but not the main character. Perspectives shift and the world flips upside down for positive gain when we’re slowed down by the things in this world that take all the time in the world.
(Earlier today I complained about the rain and wind. I felt agitated and uncomfortable. But I’m reanalyzing it. It’s 6:36 in the evening and the sun is fading faster this time of year. The cold wind is making it difficult to type, but I’m sitting outside breathing in the crispest, freshest air I’ve ever touched and it’s electrifying the inside of my nose. I’m bundled under a blanket under a covered front porch, keeping me out of the elements. I swear I’m watching the leaves turn from Granny Smith green to candy apple red right before my eyes. There’s something about feeling your senses come alive and feeling grounded in the world around you, recognizing we are small and a piece of an always moving world. But today, the movement isn’t progress, it’s changing direction and causing me to slow down. Deciding to embrace the slowing down flipped my day around.
Gratitude changes everything.)
