I was reading the newspaper at work today and the front page article was of the newly opened section of George Street in Sydney. It looked great so I went down and snapped it for myself. Just before I finished work, a huge storm hit with thunder louder than I have heard it in years. Six years in fact, I remember hearing it as loud when I was in Texas during a storm as intense and the lightning hit pretty close. So close that the thunder wasn’t a rumble, it was a bang. I could almost feel it.
The day brightened nicely and I could take this shot of the street beautifully decorated for Christmas.
As the rain was pelting our windows prior to this, my colleague informed me of her dislike of storms. If I’m indoors, I am more than happy to watch the storm brewing and bring the city to a standstill.
This hasn’t always been the case. During periods of anxiety and depression I did not have such a fascination. I had a fear. The storm was an accurate metaphor for my mental health, something that came with little warning and reminded me that I could do little other than ride it out. Some things in life cannot be controlled and there are periods where I am much more content with that.
If anything, these storms make the day look even brighter after the clouds dissipate. Sometimes we need these dark periods to appreciate the light fighting it’s way through. You can decide for yourself whether you read this from a weather or mental health perspective, despite being two different aspects of our lives they share a lot of similarities.