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.

Not today.

Today, I stopped and let the wind hit me.

Hard.

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.

Not anymore.

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.

Thank you.

 
Karen Fahle