it's tornado season in tennessee. we've never been officially part of the alley, and that surprises me with all of the activity we get. i'm not scared of this type of weather, though many around are, and the tornadoes Do get bad sometimes (two died in murfreesboro on friday), but after i tangled with one at 16 in my poor little car, i'm not afraid. i learned you can't fight them. granted, that doesn't mean run up to it, and it also doesn't mean don't get in the basement, but they are so huge and strong, you're pretty screwed.
when the sirens go off, i feel like it's the turn of the century (the last one, not this one). for some reason, that sound crackling through panicky air triggers something in me that is otherwise and long dormant. i mentally search for a cellar with wide wooden doors that fling open strongly against hail and fear. it reminds me of the dreams i have where i see only the braids of little girls rifling through tall grasses, thick in hide and seek.
wind reminds me that my faith is slipping, and that is what scares me. after all that's happened, it's hard for me to see the forest for the trees; that is, i am impatient about where i am in life with regard to my own path, and that makes the knowledge that here isn't where There will BE hard to hold. it blows out of my hands. i know that what i am doing right now isn't what i'm meant to do, because i wouldn't have been made this way if it were. and that this, too, shall pass. but today, i don't feel it. today, i feel ache. i feel weighted, and tired of it. i feel overstrung, and weary of it.
i have to ask myself, how many reminders do i need? how many scraped knees have been healed into dancing moonlit nights? and why can't i remember that instead of eyeballing my surroundings with contempt?
as She is shaking winter off and clothing spring, i am slow to follow.