The sheets of rain lash down, almost maniacal in their resolve to pound everything in the way.
The lightning flashes blindingly. For a split second, there is silence, followed by the booming thunder nearby.
The water pounds and pounds. The thunder rumbles. The lightning comes again.
The storm is hitting my windshield and the wipers struggle to move the water. Their back and forth motion is hypnotic — and I wonder whether the storm I feel and hear and fear is really outside — or if it’s inside my heart.
It’s dark and it’s loud and it’s gloomy. The storm outside the car threatens me physically, but the storm inside threatens something far deeper. Far more existential. It’s pounding on my very core again.

Everybody has times when he needs someone to save his life
Experimentation produces beauty that won’t come from slavishly following One True Way
Finding your own authentic voice is riskier than copying everybody else
For rest of my life, I’ll constantly re-interpret mother I didn’t know
Rush Limbaugh is just as partisan and ignorant as MSNBC’s Ed Schultz
ObamaCare must fail in long term, but conservatives can’t stop it now
We’re all masters of denial when facing painful truths in our lives
How much of what we do is driven by our unconscious social scripts?