Under the Weather
Who's in control? Medicine-fueled entries
Under the Weather
As I type this, I’m feeling a little under the weather.
Not sick. I’m well enough to be up and moving, writing this piece for Monday. But a little worse than I’d like to be. Foggy. Not clear.
It makes me wonder if I’ll find any thoughts to put down for this post.
It also made me curious to look up the origin of the phrase.
Under the weather is an idiom which describes feeling ill, being a little unwell, hung over from drinking alcohol. “Under the weather” has its roots in maritime language. When a sailor became ill or seasick, often because of violent weather conditions, that sailor was sent below decks to the most stable part of the ship, which was under the weather rail. The phrase “under the weather rail” was shortened to the idiom “under the weather.”1
So when violent conditions made a sailor ill, they were sent somewhere more stable in order to recover. That stable place was “under the weather rail.”
It makes perfect sense, but there’s an irony to this maritime image.
Sailors can move to the center of the ship, yes. Even when you retreat from the storm, though, you’re still surrounded by it. The waves haven’t slowed. The clouds haven’t retreated.
You can move under the weather rail, but you’re still under the weather’s hand. We’re no less surrounded by storms, even when we superficially insulated ourselves.
Nonetheless, it works. I’ll be taking it a little easy today, for long enough that I hopefully regain my clarity.
Maybe we humans don’t always need the world to change. We just need the strength necessary to weather the storms.
Weather the Storm
I had an awful realization a few weeks ago.
I was pulling my shirt on and had a sense of something like déjà vu. It was the first morning that didn’t feel like summer. A chill was in the morning air, and my stomach dropped. I remembered I live in Ohio now, and it’s about to get cold.
In several weeks it will be fall, and several weeks after will come winter, and with winter will be feet of snow and chilling temps. The chilly air sent a shiver up my spine.
I’m not ready to live through this again.
Let me be honest with you. I really enjoyed living Florida. If it weren’t for the masters program I’m starting here, I wouldn’t have chosen to move back home. Yes, I’ve lived through dozens of Ohio winters, but I’m not quite ready for this one.
But as it stands, it’s going to get cold. And I’m going to be here.
There’s no hiding in the center of the ship or locking myself up in the basement. I chose to be here. I decided I want this degree. So weather permitting (or not), I’d better find a way to embrace the billows as they come.
Weather Permitting
Funny story. Here I am typing, feeling halfway back to normal. It’s Tuesday now, and I’m stressed that it’s a day late and I still haven’t sent out this post.
Cool temps had me feeling under the weather and kept me from finishing this post. Today, it’s up in the nineties. My workplace has no AC and called us off for the day.
So in a way, though weather conditions kept me from writing this post, today they allow me to finish.
I don’t know exactly what that’s supposed to mean. It’s a little like my brain. Still foggy.
Whether or not it makes much sense, I hope you’ll understand that this vignette is the best I’ve got.
Weather or not?
I was just revving up to end this post where I felt the words were leading—that we can conquer the weather. Our environment isn’t in control; we can prevail over it.
It was going to be very inspirational. The problem is, I don’t think it’s quite true.
To be clear, neither is the opposite true. We aren’t some powerless beings at the whims of every wind.
We can’t retreat every time a wave rises. Nonetheless, there are certain storms whose powers you simply can’t challenge. If even sailors retreat below the weather rail from time to time—wait it out until their strength returns—who are we to think that no condition of the skies could ever slow us?
Who’s in control? Is it weather or not?
I think the reality is this: we can’t prevail over the weather, but we can prevail under it.
Ninety out of a hundred days, we’re ready to face what comes.
Other days, our surroundings are extremely violent and our defenses especially weak. We temporarily retreat. We emerge again.
We can’t conquer the weather, but that doesn’t mean all weather should conquer us. We can’t prevail over the sky, but we can triumph under it.
We can’t control the waves, but we can ride them.
I’m not sure these thoughts are perfectly clear. If NyQuil counts, I’m still a little hungover.
So here it is, friends: my post from under the rail. We’re a day late and a little foggy.
But I know we’re all here for more than fair weather. You have cloudy days, and this may be one of mine. You may reach this point and decide that I should have retreated for the week. But I chose to sail on.
You, likewise.
*all the fair-weather fans unsubscribe*
Psalms 52:8
Deep calls to deep, to the sound of Your water channels; all Your breakers and waves passed over me.