There is a distinct, heavy silence that comes just before a thunderstorm. It’s the only kind of silence I’ve ever found that doesn’t feel empty. It’s full of potential energy, of latent power held perfectly in check. It’s a lesson in restraint. I find myself watching the sky, not to see the lightning, but to feel that moment of perfect, balanced stillness before the release. Control is not the absence of power, but the choice of when to wield it.