In the Eye of the Storm: Finding Light Within Darkness

The end of August always feels like a strange time.
Since I started living more in tune with the wheel of the year, I notice time differently. Even my seasonal depression seems to soften a little.

But this summer was different.
This whole year feels so different.
I don’t know if you feel it too, but there are shifts everywhere. It’s as if people around me are walking through shadows, doing deep inner work, facing endings and beginnings. Sometimes I wonder… do you also believe in the rebirth of Earth, of humanity, into a “new world”?

Tonight, there was a storm.
I don’t like storms when I am alone.
I love the flashes of lightning, the illumination of the sky… but when thunder strikes hard and rain crashes against the ground, fear rises in me. And still, there is a paradox — storms bring me peace, even as they unsettle me.

They remind me of so many stories, so many turning points in my life.
And tonight, in the middle of the storm, memories returned. Something unfinished. Something I still carry inside.

I know every storm has an ending.
I know all the phrases about how the sun always comes back after the rain.
And yet… there is one storm inside me that feels endless. A storm I thought I had accepted, but that still rages within me.

I understand why it came. I even understand what it’s teaching me.
But still, I feel stuck in its center — in the eye of the hurricane. A place that feels calm for a moment, but is never safe.

And I realize: this storm lives in me not to destroy, but to push me out of my bubble. To force me to move.

Half of what I wrote tonight disappeared when lightning struck — maybe fitting, maybe a lesson.
But what remains is this:
I know everything that happened, happened for my good.

And yet, my dreamer’s heart — the hopelessly romantic part of me — struggles with acceptance.
It doesn’t want to let go. It doesn’t want the rational mind to win over what feels eternal.

Because deep down, that part of me still wishes someone was here with me in the storm.

I remember writing about darkness before — about the phoenix that must burn before it rises. About how necessary it is to pass through the shadows.

And I know I can. I’ve done it many times before.
But this time feels different. Because this time, I don’t want to go through it alone.
And still, I must.

It’s almost ironic.
Because I was so close.
So close to what felt like my “forever.” So close to the soul I always believed in.

That connection was magic. And it still is.
And because it was so extraordinary, it gave me strength. Even if it also left me in this storm alone.

The paradox is this: I found what I was seeking.
Even if it wasn’t meant to stay.

I accept what happened.
I admit my mistakes.
And I know I must walk through this storm for myself, not for anyone else.

It’s strange — the storm is both what breaks me and what gives me power. Like a serpent eating its own tail.

But that’s not the full truth.
Because I am light.
And without storms, I would never see how strong that light truly is.

Yes, I am tired.
Yes, I deserve to walk hand in hand with someone else.
And yes, I must still do this alone.

But I trust the storm. I trust myself.
Because I was given a gift — to meet my twin flame, my reflection, my soul.

Some people never experience such love in their whole lifetime. I did.
I got to fly beyond time and space with someone who knew me before I even remembered myself.

And that is enough to keep me strong.
Enough to remind me that after every storm… there is always light.

Maybe storms are not here to test us, but to teach us to dance with the rain — until we remember that even thunder carries music, and even darkness knows how to bloom.