It was windy this morning; choppy, buffeting, and cold. Both of us have bad memories of wind. I once spent a week on the remote Barkly Tablelands riding into howling wind. On one of those days I was moving for 10 hours and covered only 70 kilometres. A couple of weeks later I wrote of another day's ride, "But today, going past the big gums in the wind raised deep non-rational discomfort in me; I was afraid. This was safe ride, well within my capabilities, with a motel at the end, and lots of farm houses on the way. But in the growing cloud over the range -- at 12:30 it was darker and it is now at 5:30-- and at other times, I had to fight off moments of panic. If a week of headwinds can do that to me, no wonder months or years in a war zone, or refugee camp, or violent marriage can cause triggers that make people meltdown. It was a sobering experience. I knew exactly what was going on... and it made no difference at all!" (Here)
Wind in the trees bothered me for several years. I still get little flash backs to that week which so hammered me. But the memories have lost some of their power. I choose to remember my camp after that horrible 70km day. A rocky ridge with no soil for tent pegs, so that I had to tie the tent loops off onto a collection of the heavier rocks round about. I was near to an abandoned microwave tower which sang in the wind. A pair of eagles had a nest high up in the tower, and their cries harmonized with the cry of the tower. After all the exhaustion of the day there was a beauty and a peace about that place.
When the wind and other things in life trigger panic within me, I remember that place. I remember the caravan park owner who, a little later, recognised my deep exhaustion and welcomed me when I asked if I could stay another day. I remember the impregnable farmhouse where I would lie awake as a child as the wind howled around the building, and rain slammed across the roof. I pray the ancient prayers of the church; the Jesus prayer, Hail Mary, Lord support us all the long day… prayers of resistance and faith in the face of that which seeks to cow us.
And this morning? This morning I barely noticed the wind. It was a part of a glorious scoot along the river to work. Healing is given.