Yesterday the heavens opened and the sky poured. Not all day, but in shifts. Sometimes it rained lightly, a soft pattering against the window; whispering to you that a rainbow would soon grace us as all. Other times, the rain drenched the earth–and if you were sitting on a covered porch like I was, raindrops bounced off the breeze offering mist in exchange for the heat.

As the day gave way into night, the skies cleared and the temperatures cooled to a more pleasant spring night. Swinging on a hammock and enjoying the perfect aftermath of the storm, I began to think about the seasons of weather, how there was predictability in the unpredictable. We know that for every week that it rains every day, there will be a week where the sun will shine through the clouds, not a raindrop in sight.

We know that, albeit in Kentucky the lines between the seasons shift and blur, that after spring, the playfulness of  summer is around the corner. As joyful, light, and colorful springs are, I am delighted by the prospect of summer—bringer of abundant sunshine and the childhood memories that come with it.  Autumn is special; red and yellow leaves tinged with nostalgia fall into crisp, firewood burning air. Winter slows down and begs for a cup of tea and a book, if only to curl up on a couch with a friend.

I find the surety and pattern of the weather and seasons comforting. Yesterday, I felt akin to the rain; as many times as it changed its pace, my emotions have done the same.  As I move through my own seemingly unpredictable pattern of grief, of living life, I realized that my emotions have more in common with the weather than I ever would have thought. How, even too much sunshine can lead to a longing for respite from the heat. How, we will never be stuck in one emotion forever, even if it feels that way. Whether that emotion is happiness or sadness, I believe that its ebb and flow is what keeps us balanced, if you just keep moving.

Sometimes, things change as quickly as the weather, or move more slowly like the seasons. And just as fruitless is the idea to try and control the temperature, is the belief that we can always dictate our emotions to be how we wish them to be. Particularly, I find myself more likely to want to turn off “negative” emotions—yet, if I do so, I may be neglecting the part of me that needs to just let it rain when it rains. And accept the seasons of your heart.

After all, I’ve always found a certain beauty in thunderstorms– the flashes of brilliant lightening are fierce against the darkness.  It’s as if the storms are paving a way for clear blue skies.