Be careful: those steps out the back door are slippery when they’re wet; the last thing you’d want right now is a nasty fall.
Take walks whenever the weather permits: sometimes that slow pace is exactly what you will need; other times the simple, miraculous act of putting one foot in front of the other will be good for your soul.
There is a difference between belief and believing: the former is a reserve to be drawn upon now and then; the latter is the act of carrying that reserve from here to there—and the bigger the load, the bigger the challenge.
Replace some of the canned goods and emergency supplies for the next time you can’t make it out to the store.
A downed power line could kill you in an instant.
People were very kind, some of them went out of their way, and others even had flat tires themselves but still showed up anyway.
You sunburn easily, and there’s some history of skin cancer in your family, so don’t think a sunny day isn’t—in a way—its own danger.
There are seasons for fruit-bearing; and then there are times when the best that can happen is that your leaves don’t wither and fall off: Hold on to your leaves.
There’s work to be done after a storm; take that work very seriously. All of it.
But there’s also no need to rush from the door to the car or to give yourself extra time on the road; stop and talk. People matter.
Lightning separates nitrogen molecules, which then become part of the plants we and the animals we eat; our bodies can’t do that alone.
Thinking metaphorically about lightning—along with just about everything else—can be exhausting, but so is a good workout.
Storms are forgotten, and while no one ever complains about a beautiful sunny day, nice weather has its own way of spoiling you, making you lazy, and lulling you into some really dark places*; if that doesn’t tell you what a weak and pathetic creature you are, nothing will.
There will be other storms; but, one day, there will be no more storms.
ancient monks recognized this and called it acedia