Not all storms come with thunder. Some are emotional—internal. They don’t knock over trees or flood streets, but they flood you with frustration, anger, exhaustion. And just like real storms, they can pass… or they can destroy—depending on how you handle them.

This morning, I woke up frustrated. Not just because I was tired, but because I felt like my time had been hijacked. I had goals. I had intentions. I’d carved out that rare pocket of energy to get creative work done—and just as I was about to use it, life rerouted me.

The frustration hit like a storm cloud. But instead of bringing that frustration into the situation, possibly making things worse, I held it. Not bottled up to explode later, but held long enough to process it. To examine it. To release it in a way that didn’t cause more damage. And here’s what I realized:

Storms are part of life. We all get them. And when we see them coming, we don’t scream at the sky. We don’t fight the rain. We prepare. We breathe. And we trust that the sun returns after the clouds clear—because it always does.

Nature shows us the way. A storm over a forest doesn’t destroy the forest. It shakes loose what’s dead, waters what still has life, and leaves the rest to regrow. A storm over a city might make a mess, but we rebuild. Only once in a lifetime do we get the kind of storm that leaves everything in shambles—and even then, we rebuild differently.

The real power is not in avoiding storms—it’s in not tearing your house down while one passes through.

I could’ve acted out in that frustration. I could’ve let it spill into conversations or energy that didn’t deserve it. But instead, I brought it inward. I reflected. I slept. And just like weather, the emotion passed.

Now, I feel lighter. Clearer. More in tune.

So here’s the Intra Conversion:
Don’t confuse holding in with holding space.
Don’t explode just to be heard.
Don’t assume the feeling will last.
Just weather the storm without wrecking the house.

And when the skies clear? Build again—with love.