There’s something about the calm before a storm that feels particularly satisfying. It’s knowing that no matter what devastation might be coming in your direction, that you are more resilient. Beating you down might be a harder task than imagined.
I’m in the midst of calm while a storm brews with a vengeance around me. But being beaten is not an option, not without one hell of a good fight. I think it’s my age. I have no tolerance for nonsense, being less inclined to bite back my words. I'm unwilling to tolerate bad behavior, not even my own. So, as I weather the cold fronts about to collide I know when all is said and done I will still be standing, everything balanced as it should be. I’m grateful to be so blessed.