Chinooks

I could see it coming from miles away.

A clear, strong line, holding the unbearable weight of an entire sky full of clouds.

chinook arch image

A Chinook Arch. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen one of these. It’s above my head right now; I can see it when I glance out the window. Arriving with such bursts that shake the streetlights, I know it will bring warmth. The kind of warmth I need, that curls around the space inside of me. The space I’m trying to cultivate, the space I’m trying to sit with.

I’ve been feeling deja vu lately. Last night, sitting in the darkened bar, yelling over the stereo while waiting for the next band to set-up. Catching up with random acquaintances I haven’t seen for years. Somehow I felt like I knew it would all happen this way. These people would be standing there, the lights would be dim like this. It makes me know it’s all happening the way it should.

I’ll get these moments where feelings emerge from hidden spaces out of air. Between the force of magnetism holding the electron in its ceaseless orbit is a memory. Something aligns and the memory is free to emerge out from where it was. Only nothing’s actually changed, it’s still there like it had been, and the present moment’s ability to see it is the only thing that’s different.

I get comfort in this. In knowing that awareness is expanding to include these previously hidden spaces.

Maybe that’s what a chinook does. It pushes something else away, the cold and stagnancy of still-holding-on winter, and lets warmth take its place.

It can be quite violent, when it comes. It’s a warmth that wants to ferociously edge its way into every snowdrift’s edge, every broken piece of me.

When I was young I would walk out on the country gravel roads until I surrounded myself with fields. I’d let the wind lift my hair from my face and trail off my fingertips as I stood, open-hearted facing the West. It was some sort of cleansing ritual for me, to sweep away the tumultuous emotions of my teenage self.

Here I am, “home” again. This place I grew up. Letting the wind rush over me as it arches high above the sky. Releasing pain and anger from the past. Letting go.

 

 

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