Not over...Not yet.

Butterflies flutter within. I shiver-- although it's an irrational fear, it doesn't allow me to breathe easy. There were similar situations long back when, unable to face my own fears, I caved in. I escaped them, thinking that they'd go away. In the absence of my attention, they've grown strong but I remain where I was then.

I pray, ashamed to ask, knowing that it's selfish to pray in danger and forget once the storm passes over ('You never pray' she says).There's no difference between me and the devotee who pledges money to the temple if he gets a better business deal--we both are bribing God--he, with the money and I with a promise of devotion and dedication to the journey if the storm passes. In silence, I meditate and ask for strength, not sure if my faith is real.

When the storm arrives, it's a whimper. I'm still alive, I've saved face and feel truimphant. Did my prayers work? Did the higher forces pull me out of my fears or did they instill strength and focus in me? Or was I just imagining horrible possibilities and shivering silly? What happens to my faith now? Does this incident wake me out of my slumber and set me again on my journey towards light? Or will I go back to my sleep, only to be shaken up by another storm?

And does it makes a difference to the 'Whole', whether or not, a small speck wakes up from its dream? Does the Universe bother if a tiny grain of sand on a beach starts moving?

Maybe it makes a difference to that grain of sand--that speck--which is I.