Surrendering to Spirit: Eye of the Storm

The Eye of the Storm

The calm before the storm.  It’s a widely used phrase—a cliché, if you will—but so aptly describes many, many situations.  The eerily quiet moment before all hell breaks loose.  The calm, beautiful afternoon out at sea before the winds and waves rip your boat to shreds.  The serenity shattered by the scorned woman.  A moment of peace that lends itself to dangerous and sometimes deadly storms.  But can we survive?  Can we sit within the chaos without getting pulled into the deadly winds? 


Imagine a tornado touching ground at 10-20 mph with wind speeds up to 318 mph.  Vehicles, shingles, livestock, trees, and many other types of debris whirling around an invisible tube of air in the center of the tornado.  The energy of the thunderstorm feeding the tornado preventing it from dissipating until the energy has been spent.  The tornado is the situation.  The debris represents your thoughts, actions, and emotions.  As the situation escalates, the tornado picks up speed allowing its destructive path to widen—not caring who or what is destroyed.  Just as the energy of the thunderstorm feeds the tornado keeping it “alive,” so too, do your thoughts.  Whether we are actively engaged in a situation, or merely recalling the details of a particularly unpleasant encounter, we have the choice of becoming a tornado or remaining calm amidst the dangerous storm.

Last week, I found myself in the middle of an unpleasant situation.  My thoughts were running in multiple directions.  My hands shook as I desperately tried to work my phone.  I was stuck in the middle of an intersection.  My car had stalled.  It wasn’t a particularly busy night, but vehicles were passing by me from all directions.  I didn’t have AAA saved in my phone, so I Googled the company. 

A man stopped his vehicle and approached my car.  Embarrassed, I explained the situation.  Unfortunately, I didn’t have the tool needed for him to help.  Before he drove off, however, I put the car in neutral attempting to use the hill and gravity.  I thought the man was behind me and braked, which prevented me from completely clearing the intersection.  The man said a few noncommittal words and drove off.

Sitting at the edge—completely alone—my mind racing through potential contacts as I turned the key over and over again.  Lights that I had never seen in my entire life lit up the dashboard.  The parking break light was on, but I had not even touched the break.  The engine stopped turning over.  My car was dead.  Moments after I had praised her for getting me to places and lasting well beyond the point of empty.

A police officer pulled up behind me with his lights blaring—a welcoming sign in the dimly lit intersection.  He carefully approached my window.  In a shaky voice, I explained that I had somehow damaged my vehicle because it wouldn’t start.  The officer gently asked me to sign a waiver allowing him to push my vehicle into a nearby parking lot.  I agreed. 

After coasting through the intersection and one final push, I guided my vehicle into a parking space.  The officer brought me the waiver to sign.  Not wanting to pay too much out of pocket for AAA, I inquired about a nearby gas station.  I fully intended to walk there in shoes not made for snow.  However, the police officer volunteered to grab a gas can and buy gas for my vehicle.

While I was waiting for the officer to return, embarrassment flooded my brain.  I had many opportunities that day to buy gas, but I was too stubborn.  I didn’t want to go inside and pay with cash.  I didn't want to take the time to deposit cash at the ATM.  I knew I could make it—I had before—but I didn’t count on being stuck on the hill.  It was cold, snowing, and I was tired.  I didn’t have a gas can.  Prior military.  I knew better.  My military leaders would have had a field day with me.


Then I saw beautiful white snowflakes adorning the trees like garland on a Christmas tree.  The most beautiful black and white painting stood about 10 feet away.  Mother Earth gently reminding me to look beyond the debris.  To sit quietly in the eye of the storm.  Gratitude filled my heart.  The first man.  The vehicles that successfully avoided my car.  The officer who helped push my vehicle to a safe place, and then bought gas.  I was blessed.  Despite all the wrong decisions leading to that situation—the anxiety, the embarrassment, the fear, the negative self-talk—I was blessed.  I was safe.  No one had gotten hurt.  I made it home alive, and I didn’t owe AAA a dime.

That is sitting in the eye of the storm.  That is what we are asked to do when things are whirling around us so fast threatening our sanity—to sit.  To recognize the blessings of the Divine—of Mother Earth.  To clear our minds so we can hear the guidance.  To have faith we will be sent whatever is needed and/or guided on any action to be taken.  We may have to request help or simply recognize our blessings.

I was fortunate.  I didn’t verbally or directly ask for help, but the Universe saw fit to help me learn this lesson in a relatively benign situation.  For those of us used to controlling the world around us, the Divine says relinquish control.  Rest for a moment.  Close your eyes and clear your mind.  Allow the soft, parental voice to fill your soul and carry you forward.  Acknowledge your thoughts and emotions, but don’t allow them to drag you away from where you are truly meant to be.  Live with Grace.  Walk with Grace.  Love with Grace.  The Universe will always have your back.  You can never truly fail because you will be guided to a better way or to a helping hand…if you allow this to be.

Many, many blessings,


Creative Commons License

Transformational Series: Surrendering to Spirit by Adryanna Kenna Sadge is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0 International License.