I’m sitting in my bed right now binge-reading on WordPress and I just noticed how intensely the wind is blowing. I’m on the 19th floor of a high-rise apartment building in a space that is literally wrapped in windows. Yes, I live in a fishbowl. So, when the wind is blowing, I know it.
The sound is always amplified in a much more dramatic fashion than the reality of the weather. It usually sounds like impending doom. It is always a bit frightening, the rattle and the howl of it all. But tonight, in addition to the rattle and the howl is sort of this peaceful chiming. It’s difficult to explain. It sounds a lot like one of those Tibetan singing bowls, this lovely soft-pitched ring whistling sweetly to me.
And just now it has occurred to me what an apt metaphor this is to illustrate my life with bipolar. It is simultaneously frightening and beautiful. It can be dangerously seductive. But when the wind settles, night is over, and the sun comes out….the quiet rolls in. The quiet isn’t as beautiful as the dangerous siren’s song of the wind, but it is peaceful. And we all need a little peace now and then.