When Storms Arise

You can sense it, can't you? When a storm is about to break?

The clouds darken, the temperature plummets, the winds begins wailing.

It is more than physical signs that show the change, however. 

It could be a feeling, a gut signal, an emotional trigger,

 that something "different" is about to happen, 

something is about to begin, whether good or ill. 

Storms are uncontrollable, wild, in nature,

 they are ominous and cantankerous,

unpredictable and often unstoppable. 

Storms vary, in intensity, in reach

 leaving something in their wake.

Destruction has been wreaked,

blizzards wipe out power,

rain has flooded homes.

One thing is absolutely certain,

once a storm has arisen,

lives are never exactly the same.

Storms cause indescribable havoc, 

the one thing about storms is...

Storms change perspective, 

revealing what was there all along

 showing what wasn't there before,

Storms arrange and rearrange.

Fires destroy, but purify.

Hurricanes spell tragedy, 

but bring about bravery.

Tornadoes inadvertently 

smash evil witches

(or so I've read).  

When storms arise,

there is opportunity:

 for greatness,

for healing

for good, 

for hope,

Storms

aren't

 the end

Because that's what heroes do

I recently went to the movie theater. 

Gasp! 

That means I've seen a film, on the big screen, for the third time this year. 

That's a pretty deal, for me.

The movie was the classic superhero film, not too much surprise there.

It was entertaining, equal parts hilarious and serious all wrapped up nicely before the credits start rolling. 

There was one quote that stuck out, however, in the midst of  explosions and chaos signaling the world was about to meet its end. 

The main character, a brawny, golden-haired demigod, passionately explains why he is going to risk everything for the sake of humanity: 

"I choose to run towards my problems, and not away from them. Because that's what heroes do." 

Because…that's what heroes do. 

It's not the explanation I would have given, I don't think. 

I might have said something along the lines of - "Gosh. I'm busy. I'll just...pretend the world's not going to end. Yes. That'll work."

It's not that I don't have problems. Ha! That's a laugh.

It's just that I don't like admitting them. 

I like them to be nice and out of sight. 

They exist, but not for others to see.

I do not automatically face them or even try to embrace them. 

Problems are messy.

Problems are complicated.

Problems are no fun, sir.

But, a hero, or heroine, if you like, runs toward them.

Madness?

Perhaps.

Inanity?

Likely.

Or the action that separates the heroes from the non-heroic?

Most assuredly.

Heroes choose to fess up. They admit they're wrong and they want to make it right.

Heroes don't shove issues under the carpet, shamefully hiding from the truth.

Heroes are truly heroes when they admit they've messed up. And they humbly ask for grace. 

Heroes are the stuff of legend and myth because that attitude isn't cool anymore, is it? I

n these days of blame-shifting and shame-giving, heroes do not emerge to take responsibility for their actions or reactions. 

Heroes say "I'm sorry. How can this be remedied?" In this willingness to ask for forgiveness, they make it obvious that theirs is a journey toward becoming better. And saving the world.

I want to be like that. 

Let's be heroes.

Walden

"I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life, and see if I could not learn what it had to teach, and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived. I did not wish to live what was not life, living is so dear; nor did I wish to practise resignation, unless it was quite necessary. I wanted to live deep and suck out all the marrow of life, to live so sturdily and Spartan-like as to put to rout all that was not life, to cut a broad swath and shave close, to drive life into a corner, and reduce it to its lowest terms, and, if it proved to be mean, why then to get the whole and genuine meanness of it, and publish its meanness to the world; or if it were sublime, to know it by experience, and be able to give a true account of it in my next excursion."

- Excerpt from Walden by Henry David Thoreau

"Sucking the marrow out of life doesn't mean choking on the bone."

- Dead Poet's Society