The Weather Within

“You are the sky. Everything else - it’s just the weather.”

Pema Chödrön

Shifting Skies

I’ve had the kind of week that got me thinking about how life—and everything swirling around us—can shift as quickly as the weather. Blue skies. Drifting clouds. Gusts of wind. Dense fog. Pop-up showers. Even torrential downpours or thunderstorms that leave us longing for stillness, or the gentle breeze of a perfectly balanced day.

And it’s not just the big things. A tone of voice. A fading memory. The anxiety of what might or might not come. The weight of expectation. That anger that rises from things we could never control. Some events arrive with a warning, as predictable as a forecast. Others strike without notice, like a sudden severe weather alert.

The Cost of Resistance

We rarely stop to notice how much energy we spend reacting to it all, even when we know what’s headed our way. But if we give ourselves the chance to pause and observe, we might begin to match our internal weather to the truth of what’s happening around us.

And if we do that—just that—we begin to see that no matter the circumstance, it too shall pass, just like the clouds. They approach, hang for a while, and then move on.

Still, our instinct is to fix, fight, or figure out every passing feeling. We tighten up the moment something feels off, like we’re trying to grasp at clouds or catch rain with our bare hands.

There’s a kind of quiet exhaustion that comes with always seeking shelter from every emotional breeze or storm.

A Storm of My Own

This past weekend, I had to make an early trip into Boston, followed by an afternoon drive to Cape Cod. I know—peak summer traffic. How was I going to pull this off in one day?

The physical part was a challenge, but it didn’t compare to the emotional storm that started building in me. My thoughts were a kind of internal forecast: full of doubt, dread, and overwhelming feelings. I kept looking for shelter from something that hadn’t even happened yet.

But as the day drew closer, I realized that all I had to do was get through it. Each part would only last a few hours—first this, then that. Before I knew it, it would be over—and it was.

Looking back, I realize: not every storm needs shelter. Sometimes you sit with it. Let it pass. And it will.

Forecasting from Within

In hindsight, it was all small stuff—the kind of small stuff we all face, sometimes daily. So why give it so much power? Why hand over so much energy to worry, anxiety, or stress? It all passed. And in choosing not to brace against it, I saved more than just energy—I left room for something better to take root.

The weather always passes—outside, and within. Sometimes, our greatest strength isn’t resisting it, but simply breathing through it. I suppose I’m learning how to forecast my internal weather better. Not by seeking shelter from every passing change, but layering up—emotionally—for whatever may come.

I don’t view these shifts as interruptions or threats to my feelings. If anything, they’re evidence that I’m alive, paying attention… still evolving.

Don’t stand outside in the rain shouting at the clouds. Just wait for the sun.

Talk soon…

G