That’s Not My Rainbow

In the middle of the heavy grey sky a streak of rainbow hangs down, like a multicoloured still tornado. It looks in at me from outside and bathes my washing-machine mind in colourful space.

Sometimes we’re so stubborn about our dear stories about ourselves and our lives that we refuse to appreciate the rainbows that come out of nowhere to bring us back to what’s real.

It’s OK to be stubborn and carry on clinging onto that big black cloud and turning a blind eye to the small rainbows that every day offers. The longer you cling on, the harder the fall will be. Not to worry! The harder the fall, the quicker you will probably turn back to the rainbows… So really you don’t need to worry at all…

Question the content of your worry. Worry is an addiction like any other, that ceases to tighten your heart and body when you genuinely realise how unhelpful and boring it really is.

It took a tornado-looking rainbow to shake me out of a non-existent storm. It wasn’t my rainbow. But I was sure as hell going to briefly be at one with it.

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