all is well.

A thunderstorm’s rolling overhead right now.

Processed with VSCOcam with b1 preset

I love thunderstorms: the slight give of the cushions in an armchair, the rustling pages of whatever book I happen to be reading, the scratch of my pen across a notebook as I sit by the window. Everything gains an extra level of comfort with every flash of lightning, with every echoing crash of thunder, with every minute spent listening to the thrumming sound of rainfall.

Mom popped by our front porch (where I was sitting with the door wide open… in the middle of a rainstorm.) and asked me, if you close your eyes, can you almost pretend you’re in North Carolina?

Almost, I told her.

Yes; almost. If I were in North Carolina, there would be no cars whooshing through the newly soaked streets: just the soft creaking of rocking chairs and the quiet murmur of laughter among friends. No rough carpet under my feet or memories of my dog curled up in that corner (that one; right there); just memories of hard work and laughter and tears and good fun–late nights, early mornings, starry skies, and thunderstorms.

Nostalgia aside–enough is as good as a feast. be where your feet are–I love a good thunderstorm. There’s something so quieting about watching the clouds roll in and stay for a while. Thunderstorms, for me at least, are somewhat like the sea. They instill a sense of smallness, a realization that we are tiny and fragile and oh, our lives are so short in the grand scheme of things. They give me a half-calming hope that everything will be alright–the sun will rise, the waves will pound the shore, the storms will rage, and all shall be well, and all shall be well, and all manner of things shall be well.

So instead of almost crying, as I am wont to do whenever the fact that I’m not at camp arises, I’m sinking in to where I am. There are letters to be written, and maybe care packages to be made. There are cookies and cobblers just waiting to be baked, recipes waiting to be attempted, stories waiting to be written–and, of course, there’s friends to be seen and books to be read. Even if I don’t quite know what they are, there are things to be done in this life of mine.

Big things. World changing things. 

Anyone can change the world. It just takes a lot of guts, a lot of gumption, and whole lot of support. And it’s okay not to go out to change the world, too. Sometimes you just have to work hard, wherever you are, and love fiercely and live–even if it feels small. Because we are small, you know, but you in your corner, and me in mine–together, I think, we might be able to do some good in this world of ours, whether or not we change the world.

What is it Galadriel says? Even the smallest person can change the course of the future.

A few people have told me recently that the hard part of growing up isn’t always making tough choices between good and bad that a lot of stories seem to make it out to be. Sometimes it’s making choices between good and better. And sometimes, it’s just making a choice between good and good. You can’t win, you can’t lose–life is what it is and sometimes you have to roll in whatever direction it takes you, and that’s okay, too.

Just remember to watch the thunderstorms, wherever you are, if only just for me. Take a minute and think to yourself: I am small. My time here is finite, my days here are short: I am small, but I matter. My life matters. 

Then go out and make something of it. You never know whose life could change.

It might even be your own.


have something to say?

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s