Charlie and I took our annual retreat to the cabin in October. Normally this is a time of relaxation, peace and solitude, rejuvenation, inner reflection, leisurely walks, and good food. A time that I relish and look forward to every year.
This year, however, included managing an emotional upheaval due to an ongoing personal situation in Rapid City. And when I say emotional upheaval, I mean the snow globe of life had been turned upside down and shaken into a never-ending blizzard with my figurine helplessly careening through the blizzard desperately searching for an anchor.
In the beginning, the weather reflected my mood. Dreary, rainy, cold, and windy. Tried as I might to refocus and ground myself, my thoughts and moods were stuck in Rapid City, brooding over uncontrollable events, fueling the helpless and powerless sensation. Music, dancing, napping, and reading inspirational books did not settle this blizzard. Mid-week, additional information was added that ripped through my already delicate thought process. I fell apart. The blizzard became a tsunami tumbling out of control. Junk food and alcohol was required. Lots of it.
Interestingly, as if to indicate the worst was over, the weather also started to change mid-week. The calm after the storm. 70 plus degrees, a slight breeze, cobalt blue skies with wispy clouds revealed a warm and inviting sun. Charlie and I walked the beach, and while I soaked in the sun, Charlie chased squirrels to his hearts content. I eased off the junk and alcohol, started to cook/eat good food, and continued to read, nap, and meditate. The emotions were still intense and painful, but the warmth of the sun presented a golden thread from which to slowly weave conscious healing.
One evening I was sitting outside enjoying the beautiful sunset. As I watched the colors of the horizon change, I sensed that all was good in the world. The sun has set every day for millions of years and will continue to give astounding images for millions of years to come. I knew in that moment that the troubles I had experienced, while still important to me, were really insignificant. It was a moment of peace and solitude for my soul. A moment to breathe and notice that the world will continue on despite my pain. The beauty of those moments captured me, and I settled knowing that through this unfolding of nature’s artistry, all was good in the world, and I would be okay.
“All shall be well,
And all shall be well,
And all manner of things shall be well.”
-Dame Julian of Norwich – 13th century English mystic