waking up after massive personal & professional shifts

I spent the day trying to articulate this feeling. The one after the deluge of doubt; the steady silent dressed up as ease after the thunder fades into a soft throat clearing and lightning tucks itself back into the clouds. All of the turmoil is suddenly out of sight – but the water pooled on the ground – the humidity lingering in the air – reminds you of when the world was an inescapable, sonic boom and your feet were glued to your porch, seemingly unable to move. Your thoughts were frantic tormentors debating whether to stay or go; to remain or move.

Until you chose to move. You dared – one foot in front of the other – to temper the storm, to venture beyond a life lived in the shadows of the known.

Suddenly, the clouds clear. But you’re standing outside, the remnants of raining staining your blouse. Your thoughts still remember the storm. But they are calmer now. Steadier. They see open paths in the sky those heavy, dark clouds once obscured.

Body heavy. Mind light.

Peaceful.

Grounded.

This was how I started my morning after walking away from something that drained me for a long, long time. I wish I could say it was a sudden storm. But this burden – compounded by others – rumbled across my mind for years. It started small – little doubts, little booms – and escalated into an endless rolling storm. I held on because moving through the lightning strikes felt too risky. Eventually, staying put felt riskier. It carried the stench of stagnancy; of reneging on all the old skins I shedded in the name of growth.

So, with thunder crashing and lighting scrying across the sky, I moved.

The second I did, the clouds cleared in cosmic relief.

Finally, the universe seemed to say. Now, you see.

And after 7 hours of the most fitful sleep I’d experienced in years, I can confirm: it is calmer after the storm.

Waking up after dropping a heavy weight was nothing like I’d expected. My body was overwhelmed with this heaviness. Not in the burdensome way that follows mourning, but from a knowingness. A soul-deep relief that I could trust myself to move, even when the way wasn’t clear. Even when I couldn’t see the way. I trusted myself enough to choose me, even in the face of instability.

For many, stability runs deep. It’s more than just roots; it’s how we sustain our reality. I came from a stable home that crumbled to loss and uncertainty around time and illnesses. Becoming stable in finances, jobs, and relationships became as vital as breathing: I couldn’t live without it.

Until stability turned into unsustainability. When the behaviors, salary, and habits that supported the foundation began to show a fractured map of cracks, stability lost its value. My body started showing signs – rash, bloat, weight gain, anxiety – of stress, even in calm moments. It needed something new. Something different that matched the new mindset I was cultivating.  

So, I moved – and the universe moved with me. A whirlwind of overthinking rankled the situation, but eventually, I moved. Not out of fear of the unknown, but from the liberation of an old life that no longer served me. And my body responded.

This morning when I woke up, my mind was still. No music played on the radio; no dishes laid on the counter. My body moved through routine – making breakfast, walking Rosie, folding laundry – with peaceful intentionality. Not from meditation or shadow work, but from believing that the risk of instability was worth the freedom and love that comes from choosing yourself.

So, here we are, on the other side of the storm.

My, how the path forward glitens when your mind finally listens to what your body was trying to say.

Guides Along the Way: Whirlwind & Storm

One of my special practices is to consult the Lakota Sweat Lodge Cards. The lessons within them rove deeper than traditional tarot decks, to the heart of a lesson. As I took my next steps, I confronted two cards: (1) The Whirlwind and Storm (“Yumeni”) and The Whirlwind (“Yum”).

In the Whirlwind and Storm, you see a woman beneath the ocean who is tucked away from the whirlwind above. Yet, the whirlwind is connected to her hair, her brain. The world – fish – swim around her, seemingly oblivious to the unphased by the torrent above. But the torrent still exists around her, from within her. The Card Guide hones the lesson of “focus.” It draws the querent to cut out distracts and mental chatter to walk your chosen path. It encourages us to walk our chosen path to gain “insight and assurance with each step.”  It brings us back to this lesson of moving – of choosing – even when we are uncertain, even when there are too many paths before us.

Another card, “Whirlwind” stands for love. The woman from the Whirlwind and Storm soars from above. The whirlwind that grazed its teeth above the sea is now within her; not as a threat or doubt, but as flow, and self-love. The peace after choosing yourself.