There’s a storm raging outside my window. It has been at it since yesterday, went on the while night and it still doesn’t seem to slow down. Quite the opposite.
It’s still dark, very dark outside. No sign of dawn just yet. The only light comes from the swaying, moaning streetlights, trying to stay erect in the mighty wind. There are smaller lights flickering in the distance: nightlights on houses that I can only see through the violently shaking trees and bushes.
Nature seems to brace herself. There’s not much more to hear than the wailing of the wind and the fierce ticking of rain against the window. All other sounds fade into the background. The storm plays the lead in this show.
And I? I feel a little restless. I close the window, so I might be able to concentrate better. My yoga practice is difficult, because I’m having a hard time to focus and feel my body. I decide to just let my body move intuitively, instead of directing it by the pre-made yoga sequence I so love to do most mornings. It feels like the better choice, because injury lurks around if I try to push myself into poses right now.
My joints are crackling as I move, just like the branches of the bare trees outside. They are filled with wind and winter cold – both my knees and the branches. My hands feel dry and stiff, the skin pulling when I try to work them, attempting to introduce some more movement and flow.
The simple movements, gently guided by how my body feels good right now, start to warm me up. They help me settle more into myself.
The storm is still raging, but I’m softening and opening, so that it won’t break me in half the moment I leave the house.
I’m feeling ready to embrace the elements.
Our True Nature 