How do you recognize a rational fear? And when is that fear colored and warped by past wounds and patterns? When do we read the signs? and when do we recognize that those signs are simply the shadowy outlines of our insecurities? When do we do the safe thing and when do we do the thing that puts fire in our bones?
My brain feels like this ominous southern storm cloud outside the cafe window, shifting and expanding in ways that don't even make sense. I have written and theorized a lot about my obsession with clouds, and the more I think about it, the more it clicks. The storm cloud is pulled by wind, airy and flowing yet heavy, oh so heavy, with what it has absorbed. My mind soaks up the water and dirt and poison from this earth and is pulled like taffy by the winds of this existence. Any illusion my naive, crazy ass mind has about understanding the mechanics of this taffy puller are completely preposterous. We are in the midst of an electric shitstorm and I can't talk the lightning out of hitting me. I also can't pretend that I have some sort of lightning resistant skin. I think the lightning will hit me, but I have to turn myself into a conductor and shoot everything out of my pores as hard as possible.
We are at a time in our lives where we cannot hold things inside anymore. The world is changing at such a rapid pace that if we don't start morphing along with these storm clouds, we will be left floating, lost, and shit out of luck. It's not going to cut it to look out for number one anymore. It's not going to cut it to be safe anymore. Life is too short, too fragile, to hold back.
We must do the dangerous, exciting, invigorating, novel worthy adventures we dream of. Because now is the time plant seeds.
Because the rain is coming.
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