The Dark Clouds of Life

Surfing Waves of Emotion, Finding the Light

I’ve been writing this article for about three weeks. In other words, I haven’t written anything useful for almost a month. I’ve been stuck in a creative rut. It’s as if I’m stuck in a silent storm, with dark clouds consuming me.

Whenever I attempted to write recently, I produced a screen full of rubbish, or so I thought. I’ve been here before. The same happens with painting, playing Pickleball, and raising capital for new real estate deals; there’s an ebb and flow and an occasional storm of self-condemnation and inner turmoil.

These dark clouds are not new to me. They, like storms, go by many names. The darkest clouds used to freak me out, especially when I was a kid. I thought something was wrong with me for the longest time. It was as if I sensed that a part of me was damaged goods. But over time, I’ve come to accept the dark cloud for what it is: a temporary void and offset to the typically good days rich with faith, family, health, and feeling blessed overall. It’s being further away from my creator and the unconditionally loving light that our Father radiates.

I’m pretty sure most people know what these clouds feel like. Some of us experience hurricane-force storms that drive us to doctor’s offices for solutions. We get prescriptions, counseling, and therapy, and take long trips to ashrams to find our guru, someone to show us the light again. We follow people who bring us the wrong way, and in being lost, we start to find ourselves along the way.

I imagine most of us hate this feeling of darkness, the absence of light. But with practice, we can shift the opposing views of the dark clouds into accepting, loving ones. We can change how we see these storms.

Surfing Life

Imagine a surfer bombing down a massive wave. They are still within their minds, and they have a singular focus. They follow their love for surfing and embrace the waves, knowing they could be crushed anytime. The best surfers love surfing. They train. They practice. Over time, they know when to surf and when not. They know how to hold their breath for long periods. They hold big rocks underwater and run along the bottom of the ocean to train their minds and bodies for their sport.

Maybe we look at the emotions in life as a sport, even if we’re not athletes. For example, even though I’m terrible at surfing ocean waves, I’m good at surfing emotional waves. I’ve had lots of practice creating and surfing them. A big wave surfer knows the risks of being launched by a high-performance jet ski into a wave bigger than most buildings. We train our minds and bodies. Yes, our passions bring temporary suffering, pain, fleeting moments of inspiration, playfulness, and joy.

A Stormy Ride

I remember riding one of my adventure motorcycles from Arizona to Colorado. A massive thunderstorm blew between Flagstaff, Arizona, and Gallup, New Mexico, while riding east on I40. The gusting sidewind was pushing me off the road. The heavy rains blinded me. My helmet visor was too fogged to see well. I was terrified. All I could do was be as loose and still with the bike as possible. I had to react to the gusts of wind that threatened to ruin me. I couldn’t get off the road for fear of being run over by a truck with a whole load of stuff to cram into someone’s garage. I had to do my best to stay on the road and find a safe place to pull over, sit, and wait.

That place ended up being the Petrified National Forest . The park was closing when I arrived. I begged the ranger to let me find cover. Out of compassion, he let me in. I found the nearest structure with a small porch with a short roof protecting it. I parked the motorcycle and tucked in. Within a few minutes, the terror of being in that storm wore off, and my emotions turned to gratitude and awe for the power of Mother Nature. I was safe. I was dry. I was warm. I had water to drink. I could wait and move one when the storm cleared enough.

In these moments, we can connect with a greater power than ourselves. I know I did and do even more. That takes practice, also. That power goes by many names, and it’s all loving, bright, white light that humbles and hugs us when we know it’s there and we let it.

Be Willing

We must be willing to be still and observe. We assess what the dark cloud might be about, but we can’t always be sure, and that’s okay. We become objective observers. We become situationally aware. We learn the art of acceptance.

With lots of practice, I’ve learned a few things to share with you. These are the top nine suggestions for dealing with dark clouds and storms. You’ll see the common theme is acceptance.

1. Accept that you’re surfing the waves of your emotions based on your perceptions of the world. You and the world around you work on waves and particles of light. So, see yourself surfing light.
2. Accept your perception of the world is based on how you see yourself. How you see yourself drives how you talk to yourself. How you see and speak to yourself drives how you treat yourself. How you treat yourself is often worse than how you treat others, but you often treat others poorly, which reflects yourself.
3. Accept that you have blind spots or biases. Few of us are aware of our blind spots or biases, which is why too many of us appear to deviate from the Middle Way to toxic extremes, both left and right, where we all fight selfishly.
4. Accept that all storms pass. That’s how they work. They roll in and out. That is their nature.
5. Accept that there is always light in the temporary darkness of any storm. The light is changing constantly. Focus on that light and let it guide you. It will never be completely dark.
6. Be still. Go within. Search inside yourself. Observe what you’re saying to yourself. When you look in a mirror, smile. Come up with thoughts and silent words: compassionate, accepting, grateful, and loving.
7. Pray, journal, walk, meditate, paint, write, take long naps, go to bed early, wake up early, read a great book, and cuddle with the power within you that is light. Listen. These are all forms of stillness, and they are meditative. We learn to be okay alone. We might pray, “God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, courage to change the things I can, and wisdom to know the difference.”
8. Feel your way through as if you’re a laughing Buddha, knowing the storm is temporary, and you’ll be on your way again once the light returns.
9. Thank your higher power, God, if you believe in something bigger than yourself. Be grateful for the storms that roll in. It’s no fun dealing with dark clouds and storms of emotion, but that’s the business of life. By talking about dark clouds, we can learn to be more okay with ourselves and those lost in their storms. In being more okay with who we are, we become more okay with nature and the people, places, and things that used to make us nuts.

Unlike any time over the last few weeks, I feel lighter. This article is one I can finally publish with my growing network of subscribers and followers. I feel my creative flow again. My confidence is returning. I’m grateful!

Dark clouds like faith, energy, creativity, and inspiration come and go. When the clouds are gone, let your inspiration shine on. The more storms test us, the more we can practice hunkering down, firing up a flashlight, and going within until the storm blows over. That is a natural approach and one learned over time.

This article was originally published on Medium .