The wind whips at the bare branches of the maples in my backyard like an unseen wave rushing over their cold bark – humming and roaring, stirring up crisp leaves, snapping twigs from their holds, reshaping the world. This restless wind swirls through my psyche.
Do things need stirring up?
Is my current existence amidst the baby gates and dog toys becoming routine? Has the furnace fed air inside my home become stale and stifling?
The wind’s howling makes me want to rush about breaking branches, flinging leaves, dishevelling my inner world – shaking up my routine. Maybe I should run naked through the snowy streets like the wind … or maybe I should paint my kitchen, both oddly appealing options.
But now is not the time to be dishevelled. Not now when I’m taking care of a pet, a teenager, a husband and a handful of clients — I need my routines to stay organized and on schedule. I need them, yes, but I also need more than the occasional bubble bath to make me feel like I’m also taking care of myself. I need more than a chick flick on a Friday night to inspire me.
I need my soul to alight like the wind.
I need to push for something that is not an escape, but instead, a discovery. I need to do more than chill out. I need to engage in something deeply, expose myself completely (and not to the neighbours). I need to be active in creating and imagining worlds beyond this one. I need to not be a bystander. And even if what I do is not noticed by others, I will know that I did something akin to the humming and the roaring of this restless wind.