Bronte

Waiting for Bronte

This morning as I watch the storm out at sea, the sombre clouds match my mood. The increasing spray on my face hides the emotion building. The rising sea emulates my troubled mind. troubled? More like confused, I think. Like the storm itself, I

can’t seem to control what’s happening inside my body. But I feel the turbulence and something akin to fear. The day ahead seems to me to be like the approaching storm: it is inevitable. Why do I feel so apprehensive? Why is my heart pounding like the swelling white-capped waves and my breath coming in short gusts? After all, it’s mainly my own doing, I could have stopped it at any time. I instigated it in the first place, but at the time, it seemed the right

thing to do, and I was happy to give the embryo of this tempest its birth.

Happy? I was too. I am still. But, right now, the happy place is a little hard to reach. The impending storm gets in the way, drowning the sense of well-being that I know is there. I know too that every storm passes, but sometimes it leaves a trail of damage in its wake. But I am excited as well! I know this one will pass over and leave peace. This one will leave no wreckage, no destruction. Any semblance of a storm inside me will abate and leave behind the excitement of what’s to come.

I believe drowning is a comfortable way to die. It is peaceful and there is no pain. Of course, no one who has drowned can confirm this. I’m drowning a bit. Can you drown a bit? Or must you drown completely in order to call it drowning? It’s certainly not unpleasant, just very different. I think I should come up for air and experience the sunshine. But it’s cloudy and the sun has disappeared. But then it reminds me of the prayer or blessing often attributed to the Apaches: “… when clouds of trouble hide the sun in your lives and you lose sight of it for a moment, you can remember that the sun is still there.”

The Apaches certainly knew what they were talking about. And they would have experienced the odd cyclone - or in North America, a hurricane or two. It makes me smile. I’m looking at the Indian Ocean and thinking about Indians. Not the folk from India, but the people from North America so wrongly called “Indians” by Columbus. No wonder I’m confused!

This storm is a cyclone. For some crazy reason cyclones are allocated names. I wonder if the Apaches gave them names? This

one is Bronte, which is Greek for thunder! But surely thunder itself is just noise. The lightning that accompanies it is surely more dangerous. I wonder if there will be any lightning today, and if it

will strike somewhere? Will it strike me, and if it does, how will I deal with it? My excitement and sense of anticipation is high. I now realise I can’t wait!

Waiting! It seems most of my life up to now has been waiting for something. If it wasn't something as mundane as a bus, it was waiting for grades, or hanging around waiting for a queue to end. When I was young, I found waiting for anything was a chore. I was impatient. But, you know, waiting for her is always interesting. I

worked out that from the time she says she's ready, it's almost exactly one hour until we set off out of the door! Then I must wait for her to decide it's time to go home. Somehow, I don't mind. She's worth the wait. What happened to my impatience!

I look at the sea again. Perhaps I am in the eye of the storm. The old phrase "storm in a teacup" passes through my mind. So does "Perfect Storm." It’s relatively peaceful now, but is there mayhem to come, even carnage? I feel the cyclone approaching quite quickly now, and as I experience its closeness, I begin to enjoy it and it pleases me. I feel any heaviness still there lift from my chest, the jittery butterflies in my stomach start to dissipate. The whirlwind of my future subsides and looks tranquil and bright, even exhilarating. And in no time, the sun will break through the clouds to tell me it’s all going to be okay. Okay? More than that: thrilling and invigorating! Certainly, this one is a perfect storm.

I have always loved watching a storm blow in from the sea. The leaden clouds, the flashes of lightning and the ever-increasing wind excite me. It is like having a sense of control without any power. I can’t manipulate it, but I can anticipate its power with a sense of knowing. I feel the intensity rise as it picks up speed and I am moved by the strength of the wind, the bellow of the thunder and the flashes of lightning. She flashed through my mind just like lightning. It is bright but not frightening, although maybe there is some danger there. Some dogs hide under the bed when there is thunder and lightning. They don’t trust that there is unlikely to be any problem. But lightning does strike nearby sometimes – and cause damage. But as the man in the movie “Bridge of Spies”

says when asked if he’s worried, “Would it help?”

I will do this. I am not worried. I will meet what’s in store for me face to face. I will not back down. Oh yes, I am a little apprehensive, but it makes me feel vibrant and alive. I’ve been waiting for this for some time now, and it causes shortage of breath and compulsive swallowing. But I am eagerly anticipating now. And the waiting

is almost over. I can feel it is very close now.

I don’t need help or courage for this.                                                  

I love cyclones.

Bronte is my cyclone.

Today at 11.00am I

will marry her. The rain begins and I find myself dancing in it!