I can plan and organize ’til the cows come home.  Not that interesting of a superpower, and sometimes the cows decide to stay out.  Thousands of people, right this very moment, have their orderly lives upended by these terrifying storms.
This story is relatively unimportant, a little overdue, and hopefully relevant.

My upending took me by surprise. It was a Nothing, just a big Empty. I completely lost my ability to envision and plan. Or even compose a simple piece of writing.  So, I just rode it out.  I showed up every day for whatever did get planned, hoping for a glimmer of love and light.

I watched to see if anyone noticed~ yes, thank you.  I watched to see if my daily work suffered~ apparently not, one of the mysteries of bodywork.  When I’m mentally tired, my work is usually better.

I treated the whole uninspired summer like a science/yoga experiment.  What will happen if I…don’t set an alarm?  Eat ice cream?  Don’t plan a retreat, even though someone’s expecting it?  Don’t plan anything.

It felt liberating and necessary.  Just show up and allow whatever currents are moving.  We all know what can happen when we force things. I dialed in the best self-care I could muster, which meant ditching the ice cream and desire for a weed-free garden.

My soft, surprising outcome requires more letting go, which oddly feels like no big deal.  There’s who we think we are, then there’s how we simply move forward. Both hold truth, and one cannot fully define the other.  I’m not sure what I’m saying or where I’m going, and that’s the point.

Acknowledging those in the path of these very real storms who are forced to let go, to await outcomes in ways we cannot imagine. May a little grace of mine be theirs.