“When you come out of the storm, you won’t be the same person who walked in. That’s what this storm’s all about.”
~ Haruki Murakami, Kafka on the Shore
As I finished my meditation this morning, sitting on the veranda overlooking the ocean, a lightning storm began. There was no thunder. The whole thing unfolded in the predawn silence. Great purple clouds hung over the ocean, lit from within with flashing ribbons of light.
I wondered who else might be awake to see the theatre of that moment, before I realised the storm was just for me.
A long time ago, when I lived in the Kimberley, my Aboriginal Aunties taught me that the landscape is a teacher – that it holds messages for you, if only you can be still and pay attention.
So I sat and watched the storm, and the slow creep of dawn. I took a short…
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