It’s now day 6 without water at Moot HQ - the disruption caused by storm Eunice ripping through our rural wooded location has not been easy to put right.
Jules still has no water at home, I've just had the power supply put back at my home. On the day of the storm last Friday Jules had to leave the building early as the power went, the window upstairs crashed in, a cafetiere was sacrificed to the wind gods and I was too frightened to leave the flat and run the gauntlet through the ancient oak tree-tunnels to even try to help him.
It’s calm now, even if it is an annoying water-free kind of calm, where we are grateful that there isn’t a lengthy photoshoot requiring us to get really close to each other's fairly soap-free skin, but something has happened around here, both externally and internally and we have been pondering it. It might help you to hear it.
When we knew the storm was coming, we got ready for it. We moved what we thought it would affect and we prepared as best we could. We knew it was coming. Signs were there.
It was brutal and short. It whipped everything up and hurled it around. Things got broken, things got rearranged. Trees that had been in place for decades were lifted like daisies, the roads up to the office are littered with twigs and branches, the dead wood that was combed out by buffering blasts.
But the forest is a little clearer. There is light where no light got through last week. Holes where you can see new sights and where light touches the earth. There’s a bit of space for new life now.
When we talked about this, we realised that it was such an obvious metaphor for life. The changes that we all go through, some of which feel bloody uncomfortable, creating their own storms, are important parts of travelling along, hopefully towards a better or clearer set of circumstances.
There are so many of you who have written to us and told us about times when you have launched yourselves, or been launched into the storm through the discovery that you wanted something different in life. You went through a tumultuous time, you faced losing what you knew, in order to come though that storm and out into a place where new growth was possible. In other words, just like the space that storm Eunice has cleared in our forests, where the dead wood has fallen and gone; when we are brave enough to face a storm of criticism or judgement based on what we want to wear, there will also be a time where the discomfort ends and the new landscape of the relationships we are left with can be assessed for damage. Maybe some parts will be gone and you will not have them any more (good bye cafetiere) but there will be something new in the air and there will be space to grow and to let the new in.
The storm may leave you feeling a bit battered, but see if you can find ways to celebrate what was strong enough to get through it, and to see that what was lost, you probably didn’t really need to hold on to.