You can’t calm the storm, so stop trying. What you can do is calm yourself. The storm will pass. – Timber Hawkeye
Serenity can have a way of escaping our grasp. Truth be known if we try too hard, it does exactly that. We just get in the way.
If we know on some level who we are, we would be wise to not give up. The person who is tenacious, willing to go the distance even if the road seems endless, faces their critics head-on with grace, somehow, someway, that person finds their grounding in trusting themselves and what they have accomplished and are capable of accomplishing.
Storms come and go. How we weave within the noise of the storm says something of who we are. It is probably wise to not be daunted by gray skies or their thunderous voices, or jolting lightening. Storms can bring rain, but is that really so bad? Perhaps, maybe, the storm is a harbinger of a better opportunity we hadn’t considered.
Earlier today, I stumbled for a comfort that seemed to escape my reality. Serenity is what I sought — that moment in time, actually, when I knew for sure that I would be fine no matter what the circumstance. It is the Happy Place. Perfect words that I have heard from my friend Heather when she speaks of physical settings that give her peace and remind her she will be okay.
The garden is one of those Happy Places. The soul can be also. No matter where we are – in the garden, the kitchen, at the store or at work – we can invoke something in ourselves that knows all is well. We need to trust. There is often a better plan than we originally sought.
Turn to your happy place. That one in your imagination, perhaps. Or maybe, that special room or spot in your garden that brings you grace. And hope.
The possibility is that no matter what, you/we/I will land on our feet and find our way, even in the dark, always.