Passion like the wind

What is wind?

For those of us in Western Nebraska, that’s a superfluous question as even the youngest child has experienced what the National Center for Atmospheric Research describes as, “moving air that is caused by differences in air pressure within our atmosphere,” by the time they are a month old. For the very young, the blistering cold winds may take their breath away in a nanosecond if their faces are not covered. We complain much this time of year, when constant twenty mile per hour winds gust across our streets relentlessly for seemingly weeks on end without respite.

Yet, during the summer, a steady breeze is highly appreciated to keep the body cool under the hot sun and dry heat of our area. I know there is more than a few of us who would love a nice breeze all weekend long while camping without air conditioning.

Passion is defined as a, “strong and barely controllable emotion as well as a state or burst of strong emotion.”

I enjoy finding correlations between people and things that wouldn’t normally seem connectable. I find it fascinating that you can use the definition of passion, replacing the word, “emotion” with the word, “air” or “air pressure” and you’ve just described wind.

Passionate people and wind are much alike, I’ve come to believe. Strong and steady one minute, chaotic like a tornado the next and possibly no where to be found five minutes later as they’ve retreated into themselves and disappeared all together. Of course, everything in between is a possibility at any given moment in a passionate person’s life.

I am a passionate person and I see myself just like the wind on our beautiful high desert plains on any given day; soft and serene, chaotic and destructive, as well as completely missing in action sometimes as well. I know others such as myself and we may blow towards or away from each other just as easily as not.

It is also true though, that not every person is like the wind, many are steadfast and strong, capable of holding weight and emotions like a boulder in Vedauwoo or an old grandfather tree, that if it could, would wrap its branches around you to protect you from whatever storm is assaulting your life.

Sometimes I wish I were a tree - but even that moment of wishing is fleeting, just like the wind, and I’m off blowing through life with unknown direction, speed and force, depending on the moment. Now that I’m older, I’ve come not only to realize but to accept that I am perfect - exactly how I am, right now.

Nothing could be more perfect than being yourself-all of yourself, whatever that might be, right now. I wish my older self could tell my younger self that I was perfect even when I thought I was imperfect. I wish I could tell the whole world that even in your imperfections, you are completely perfect - just as you are. So be the wind, be a rock or a tree or a boat or a teepee, be you and I’ll be me and we’ll all be happy!