When the storm mirrors the mind

There’s something about a looming storm that brings back the same familiar unease that anxiety often does. Remember Odette? The name really does allow us to recall how we struggled our way to normalcy. As it is now, the darkening skies, the restless winds, and the endless queues all feel eerily like those moments when the mind begins to spiral into uncertainty. Our habit now is to constantly check the weather updates every hour, the same way you check our thoughts and sanity when they begin to turn dark. It seems like there is no clarity amid the noise.

Anxiety, like a storm, does not always announce itself gently. Sometimes it builds quietly in the background like a drizzle of worry here, a gust of fear there until suddenly, you’re caught in the downpour. The power flickers, the world outside turns gray, and even the smallest sounds seem amplified. We are thankful for officials that seem to ground us as they exert all their efforts to make us feel safe. They too, have feelings and families left behind so they can work.

It’s not hard to understand why so many feel uneasy during typhoons. It’s more than the fear of what the winds might destroy. It’s the loss of control and the realization that no matter how much we prepare, we are never completely safe from what nature decides to unleash. Risks are always there but we can mitigate. When the day is done we realize that storms end, as they always do, and then we deal with the aftermath.

The following day, we will be bombarded with numbers. How many left their homes? How many houses were affected, and so on. It will become a routine to know these figures. The air around us feels cleaner but the silence is more tender. There’s relief, yes, but also perspective that even in chaos, there is something that holds. Maybe that’s the quiet lesson of both storms and anxiety --endurance.

You learn to sit through the noise. You learn that fear, while loud, is not permanent. You learn that you are capable of waiting things out. When it passes, you realize that survival isn’t always about being unshaken; sometimes it’s about being able to move again after you’ve trembled.

If you’ve been anxious these days not just because of the literal storm, but the storms inside --know that it’s okay to pause. Prepare your home, yes, but also prepare your heart. Charge your devices, but also check on your breathing. It’s perfectly human to fear what we cannot control. But it’s also deeply human to find calm, even briefly, in the middle of it. As the wind howls and the rain beats against the window, let this be your reminder: you’ve survived every storm that has ever tried to break you. This one, too, will pass maybe not as quickly as you wish, but surely as dawn follows night.