19 November 2009

Inspired by the storm

Thursday 19 November 2009

After practice tonight I had a quick dinner, then the dog and I sat on our big front verandah and watched the approaching thunderstorm.
In far off skies, the thunder and lightning gods were playing out a spectacular legendary battle. The battle moved closer and closer. Then the wind came, thrashing the storm seeds around – trees swayed wildly in an ecstatic gypsy dance, excited at the impending violence. Natural fireworks lit up the dark, blushing twilight skies, thunder crashed, everything came alive.
I watched in anticipation and awe, eyes darting to catch the split second lightning forks as they electrocuted the sky.

Electrical storms like this don’t occur very often here – maybe once or twice a year. Nature unleashes her pent up energy, thrilling us with a dramatic heavenly spectacle. But unlike tornadoes, cyclones and earthquakes, we can enjoy the thrill of her power without fear of death and destruction.

I’m glad to have no TV – comfortable couch potatoes would have missed the excitement of the real thing in favour of a dull weather report on the 9 o’clock news.

I rang my partner and got him out of the office and on to his roof. Over the phone we watched the skies together for 10 minutes then he returned to work.

I rang my daughter “Take Lily outside now!” She wouldn’t – not interested, too preoccupied with domestic dramas, dinner, dishes, cleaning up. The call of the wild storm fell onto deaf ears.

I rang my son “Go outside and look to the north sky” – the lightning strikes were flashing every minute now. “Which way is north?” he asked before he hung up. He would have ventured out reluctantly, watched for a few minutes, then gone back to the computer or the movie.

One day we will wake up OLD and regret all those times when we missed the thunder and lightning, the wind and the rain, the wildness, and all the delicious, magical, scary things that fill our landscape and surroundings. We must ignite all our senses to appreciate Nature’s extraordinary beauty, now.
Sometimes I like to close my eyes so I can enter my surroundings in a different way: listen to the sounds...smell...feel...drink in the vibrations through the pores of my skin.

Storms are a wild reminder that we too are wild creatures at heart, at home in the pulsing ocean waves or under the silvery light of the mystical moon.

Open your heart to the call of the storm. Elope and choose to live amongst the wild things.

“To change the landscape around you, change your eyes.”


Kavita said...

I hear you, nobodhi.
Reminds me of my high school principal. When she was a kid,she told us, her teacher asked her to pay attention to her lesson. Or to leave the class if she was more interested in the bird beyond. She left to watch the birdie.
She loved India so much she'd return to the hills here nearly every year from England. Till she was 88, this May.
Reminds me also of when we were up in the dark before dawn to watch Halley's comet. In 1970, I think.
More recently my daughter told me of the spectacular pre-dawn meteor shower they'd watched in school. A bunch of girls huddled on the roof.
I once caught a vivid rainbow, start from inside a lake & curve over the green, wooded hillside on the other shore.
Actually my neighbour & his buddy go sit on a bench in the garden when it pours.
I can think of only one other person who enjoys a storm so, maybe more. Monica!

(0v0) said...

To change the landscape around you, change your eyes!!!

This is beautiful.

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greenfrog said...

lovely, friend.

I've been practicing recently with a Tibetan meditation instruction ("Body like the mountain; breath like the wind; mind like the sky").

Storms, indeed.

Anonymous said...

Very good piece