The Wisdom Hidden in Chaos — a quiet noticing

I have learned to trust the storm,

even when the sky splits open

and the world trembles beneath it.

Some say chaos is senseless—

a wild, ungoverned force,

a tantrum of thunder and wind.

But I have stood in its shadow

long enough to know better.

I have seen lightning choose its mark

with a precision only the old gods understand—

a single tree glowing white for an instant

before falling,

leaving space for sunlight

where none had touched the forest floor in decades.

I have watched the rain carve new paths

through stubborn earth,

softening what would not yield

to gentler hands.

And in the wake of the storm,

when the air still hums

with the echo of something ancient,

I feel it—

that quiet, hidden order

beneath the wreckage.

A seed swells.

A shoot rises.

Life begins again

in the very place the sky was broken.

So I do not fear the thunder.

I walk with it—

bare feet on wet soil,

hair tangled with wind,

heart open to whatever must be undone

for me to grow.

For I know this truth:

even the wildest storm

has purpose in its rage,

and every fall of lightning

marks a place

where something new

is meant to rise.

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Offer whatever name you wish to be known by at the hearth today — real or imagined — we look forward to welcoming your words into the circle.