Calm

     As mentioned in the blog post entitled "About the Author," I used to be known as the "Waterproof Machine" and I feel sorry for not elaborating on it further. Because it was fairly entertaining, the way it came about. Correct me if I'm wrong, but the term was coined by the illustrious Hannah Chase, my best friend and partner in crime, and it sorta carried on to other people. Long story short, I was the rock. I played water polo, and, to be blunt about it: I was downright scary. I'm still not entirely sure how I managed to have friends with the level of intensity I functioned at.
      And then it stopped. I think it was after I helped a close friend through a particularly rough patch in her life. I was forced to set everything else aside and put her first. After that, it just stopped. I mean, don't get me wrong, I was still regarded as "intimidating" by the general population, but at least I had learned how to control myself to a certain extent.
     And so, I learned how to cry.
     Emotion is something that has never come easy for me. I have the physical pain tolerance of a rock (i.e. I generally don't feel pain). So if I cried, then something was seriously wrong. And the same thing can be said about me today.
     But I'm not here to talk about my feelings. Today I'm here to talk about calm, specifically, the calm that comes after a storm.
     People are always talking about the calm that comes before a storm. Usually it is accompanied by a heightened awareness of everything around oneself, dilated pupils, and increased heart rate. Believe me, I know. I've been in enough fights during water polo games to last me the rest of my life. But because the calm before the storm is so much more... common, it's easier to explain. Everyone experiences the same thing. So, that is why the calm after the storm is brushed over. Sure, in the case of actual storms, coverage is given for days, weeks, and sometimes even months after the event, but what do people have to say on it?
     That's where things get complicated. Everyone explains the calm after the storm differently. Most say it is a peaceful feeling, but for some it is still a tumultuous experience. There seems to be many conflicting feelings that comes after a physically/spiritually/emotionally demanding experience.
     Take my own experience for instance. On Friday night I said goodbye to my sister before she leaves for her mission for 18 months. And I'm going to break it down.

     The calm before the Storm: Standing there and talking to her before the moment actually came.
     The Storm: The actual saying of the word "Goodbye".
     The calm after the Storm: In this specific situation, finally going to sleep after packing my things to head up to college.

     If you've ever seen the footage of a city in the aftermath of a hurricane, you know about the destruction it leaves behind. But think about it, there's a certain raw beauty that comes with it, isn't there. And that's why I appreciate the calm after a storm so much. I woke up on Saturday morning at 4:30 AM after crying myself to sleep to drive down to Los Angeles to fly back to Rexburg for spring semester. When I looked at myself in the mirror, my eyes were red and puffy and gross, but my green eyes stood out more than I've ever seen. Raw beauty.
   Longer story shorter: Beauty is a pretty flippin' awesome thing.