I realized storms don’t extinguish fire they reveal its true nature as Fire adapts When gales blow, it bends low but keeps burning or transforms, It uses what’s thrown at it even debris as fuel Fire persists as It needs so little to keep going a spark of hope a memory of warmth or a sliver of purpose.
In my hardest days I’d open my journal and scribble three things that still mattered in my life as my niece’s laugh at the smell of old books the way sunlight hit my wall at 4 PM It felt silly Insignificant, But naming those anchors rebuilt my inner hearth brick by brick as the storm eventually passed as they do but the fire I guarded It’s brighter now Tempered with Wind-proof Because I learned this during that period that You don’t wait for calm to reignite. You fan the flames in times of the chaos so to become both the shelter and the spark.
If you’re weathering your own gale right now hands raw spirit tired hear this, Your fire isn’t gone. It’s waiting for you to bend close cup your hands around it and breathe. Feed it with truth Shield it with grace Let it warm you from the inside out one small stubborn act at a time the Storms will end when the Fires endure and yours It’s worth fighting for. Just keep in mind What’s one tiny thing that is keeping your flame alive today sometimes our sparks light the way for others.
P.S. This post was inspired by reflections on resilience, If it resonated pass it to someone weathering their own storm.
