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Childhood memories are vivid, almost indescribable in their detail, and impossible to forget. A Christmas memory I have is that of a black velvet dress  a family friend gave to me for my seventh Christmas.
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Preparing for the Tormentas

Submitted by on August 10, 2009 – 5:00 am2 Comments
tormentaThere’s something terrifying about tormentas, something that as a child sent me hiding into my closet, clutching my osito.
But as I’ve grown up, I’ve also grown to love the way the air smells before a storm, the way the leaves start blowing inside out, the rolling in of the dark clouds.  The accumulation of signs suffusing the air with a sort of adrenaline.
There have been times in my life where tormentas of one kind or another caught me unaware.  Where I didn’t see them coming because, though there were signs, I thought I was sheltered enough to not be paying attention.  That’s why now, I go outdoors a veces right before a storm to meditate and really tune into what’s going on around me.  The literal tormentas help me with the metaphorical ones.
This week, spend a few minutes outside during a time when the weather is changing; let some more instinctive, primal side of yourself  wake up, so that, even when you go back inside, you’re paying more attentiion.  So that, when tormentas may come, you have some sense telling you whether to stay put or take cover.
*photo by bdebaca
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2 Comments »

  • Monica says:

    I never used to be scared of storms until 5 years ago when I survived a tornado that destroyed half my house. My daughter was 3 months old. Since then I immediately feel the tightening in my shoulders when a storm starts to blow through and I have to work hard not to pass on this fear to my kids.
    But before this, I often felt as you do and enjoyed the sizzle in the air that often came right before the storm arrived, when the breeze blew the trees and that greenish gray light made everything around me pop.
    Thanks for the food for thought.

  • Catherine says:

    In Miami, when a big hurricane is about to hit, the city goes crazy. The lines to the gas stations are mile-long. Paying for groceries can take up to an hour (not even playing.) Supplies at store fly. And all this because of a certain Hurricane Andrew. I remember my mom keeping her calm perfectly through the tumultuous ’92 storm. Thanks for the post. :)

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