A Cold Blast of Inner Peace
Today, I walked outside and a gust of cold air smacked my face.
Usually, this is all it takes for me to curse extra loud and walk extra fast.
Today, I stopped and let the wind hit me.
I didn’t curse. I didn’t mumble anything bad about living in Michigan. In January.
Instead, I leaned in.
I welcomed the icy touch. I wanted more of it.
My reaction surprised me.
I felt an old familiar tug at my heart and knew tears were not far off.
Since when did cold air make me so emotional?
I’ve had a lot of these moments in the past couple of years.
This is one of the things a cancer diagnosis did to me.
I lean into things now, things that before I may have complained about, ignored or feared.
Today, I welcome the bitter cold, being uncomfortable, feeling scared.
Especially so when it’s all those things.
I don’t know why it took me so long to get here. To feel the uneasy moments and be glad for them.
I don’t know why I lived wishing away discomfort at every turn.
Big things. Little things. I worried about so much.
Ironic, isn’t it? One of my fears became a reality and that’s what it took for me to be less fearful.
To see clearly.
To feel acutely.
To love and experience gratitude on a level I didn’t even know existed.
So, I’m leaning in. Not in the Sheryl Sandberg way, but in a way that feels natural to me. It fits.
All this, out of a gust of cold, winter air.
Thank you, Mother Nature.