Island Weather

The storm will pass.

Everything is different.

At least once a week, I wake up and think/feel very clearly that everything is different. It all has changed. Whatever I’ve been stewing over, or worrying about in the future, settles into a knowing that oh, it’s actually ok now. And if it isn’t yet, it will be ok soon.

I was a moody child and I am a moody adult. My mood swings consistently change the lens with which I view my life from, and offer me new perspectives on what is happening. Blue to gray to red to sunshine yellow and rosy pink. I’m learning how to be present with myself during low phases, and appreciate the beauty & clarity that blueness brings. If I let the mood live its life, it arrive at a place that feels new and clear(er). Even if externally things look the same, the inside feels different.

My dad, who is also a moody person, calls it ‘island weather’ — one minute all is bright and sunny, and in the next comes a surprise storm. For literally no reason, except that you cannot control the weather.

You do, however, have some control over how you respond to the weather — get an umbrella! Have a treat! Watch the rain! The more you lean into embracing the storm, the less resistance builds up around you. Trying to fight the weather only creates more disturbance and exhaustion.

Always, eventually, the storm will end, and the water will return to being settled and clear. Nevertheless, the energy of the storm will have shaken up the whole beach in subtle or overt ways. Everything is a little or a lot different.

If I let my moods pass without struggling against them, they bring me to peace. It can only come when I relinquish control and surrender to whatever is right now, and to whatever will happen in the future.

The Buddha called this state of total acceptance ‘equanimity’ — one of Buddhism’s four great virtues (along with loving-kindness, compassion, and empathetic joy). In essence, equanimity is a warm neutrality that can be cultivated through meditation and practicing presence. It is an inner, unshakable sense of calm within. Maybe, maybe not, and whatever it is, is ok.

Doom and gloom.

In a low mood everything feels a little extra dramatic and irritating and ‘wrong’. I’m more inclined to be afraid and judgmental, and my inner narrative is usually meaner. My vision is clouded, I don’t have enough information, and I know that the urges I feel to “change everything” might be gone in the morning. I remind myself to not make big decisions or plans or take my thoughts too seriously.

Feeling low just means that I’m feeling low, and that I should be patient and not cling to any part of it.

Low moods slow me down and put me back in my body. They tell me to be soft and listen for the beautiful things that are here in this moment. Sometimes they make me go out to karaoke or the lake, and other times they make me lie down and watch parenting TikTok until I fall asleep.

I’ve been sad before, I’ll be sad again. Sad or angsty background music does not stop the movie of my life. This mood, like everything, will pass.

Let the storm pass, be in your body.

Maybe your day is actually lovely and sweet and nothing is wrong — maybe you’re just sad. If you approach your inner agony with acceptance and curiosity, it can bring you closer to clarity. If you let the sad through, you’ll be better able to see the lessons and the blessings that come afterwards. You’ll be better able to appreciate the blues, because you know they always transform into beauty.

Get out of your head, get into your body. Whether you dance or run or punch some pillows or jump in the frigid waters of Lake Michigan, it’s gotta go through and out of you. Otherwise it will be stored in the cells of your being.

The mood will pass if you let it, the answers will come when it’s time. The Buddha said so, after all.

xx, maggie

p.s. please share if you feel like it, ty!