They call the wind Mariah

I've been pretty fixated on the wind lately. I listen for it. I watch the leaves shimmer in it. I enjoyed it this weekend, moving through the open doors of the cabin. I am fond of its less powerful self, the breeze, as well, but whichever it may be, I take solace in it. And tonight I've been wondering why I feel such connection to something I cannot see but nonetheless makes me feel and see the results of its presence. In my mind, the wind makes things move forward. It brings change, it serves a purpose. That symbolism is at the core of my fixation. Change is inevitable. It must be allowed, and also endured. We cannot know what will happen, so we often do not understand. And what we don't understand and can't see, we are forgivably afraid of. Eventually though, we do find that we fit in with the results. What it requires is patience. And the time it takes for patience is the time necessary for us to prepare for what is to come, and to allow what is to come.

There's no wrap-up I have in mind to this. It's just my thoughts. And in particular, it's thoughts that I want to share with my brother and sister-in-law. They are struggling right now. To them, I say this: let the winds blow, we cannot control them. And I also say this: I love you.