this month's topic for Journeys: eye of the cyclone.
At the Calm Center
cy·clone (si klonŽ) 1. a storm or system of winds that rotates about a center of low atmospheric pressure, advances at a speed of 20 to 30 miles (about 30 to 50 kilometers) an hour, and often brings heavy rain 2. a violent destructive whirling wind accompanied by a funnel-shaped cloud that progresses in a narrow path over the land
and in the middle of all that, the calm. that's where i found myself last night. not numb, mind you. just calm. working, listening to tunes, writing some, getting home late and having some pasta, snuggling into bed...and all of the stargazer lilies from Valentine's Day are open and beautiful, greeting me when i come home, when i get up. just calm.
it's as if the depression, having succeeded in building up enough force to make quite a mess, is taking a little breather. i'm perched here, on piles of flotsam, gazing around and knowing that there's another wave coming across. i can feel it starting to creep up the back of my neck. but for now, at least, there is peace.
this feels different from the other storms. most of the others ripped through, wreaked their damage, and had done. the divorce, for example. there was no way to even communicate the depth of my frustration and, ultimately, disinterest. when one is communicating with a brick wall, it gets challenging. after i moved out, it subsided. there were occasional flares, of course. it's never that cut and dried. i nearly ripped the phone out of the wall when i found out he refused to sign and return the final papers. the threat of arrest seemed to bring him around. in perspective? just a quick cloudburst.
the gradual repair work that followed that was slow, and extensive. so many people were altered by the events. i didn't even see the damage until later. yesterday morning: i walked in to my office, past the post office. last night: i walked out to head home. no post office. torn down. and i thought, shouldn't i have heard that? doesn't that kind of thing make some kind of noise? how can that much destruction pass unnoticed? sort of like that - i had my head buried in my own little corner of the world, while Stuff Happened around me.
this one, though, made its presence known as it closed in. there were signals. before it rains, i get migraines. for real. and it was like that. tension, grinding teeth, snappishness. mine, that is. and now, just a low ache in my back, as if my body knows better than i do what is in store.
i don't know what the back wave will bring. it might heap more detritus on an already messy landscape. or with any luck, there will be spring cleaning, scrubbing out the icky stuff from the corners, scraping the land bare, and i'll be standing in the pale light, shivering but happy, lighter without the burdens, arms open to the rest of the adventure.