I woke up this morning with the same exact feeling I had last week just before the storm. When intense feelings and incidents inhabit your body they are recorded by the fascia until they are released…
…I remember walking to Golden Farm wondering if I should buy more provisions such as a couple of extra gallons of water, extra food, some batteries…do I even have a flashlight? Should I fill up the bathtub, does it hold water and if it does do I have to clean it first like boiling it?
When I learned the storm was 900 miles wide and headed straight towards us I became even more nervous with a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach. Of course, my mom had already checked up on us from Ohio so worried that I had to calm my own self down before I called her back so as not to add to her nervousness. On Facebook my son said that Zone A was ordered to evacuate completely…”What zone are we in?” I inquired. He replied, “We’re in a no zone”. Sounded like the Twilight Zone to me.
Then the anxious waiting commenced…worriedly sitting on the couch in front of the TV listening to reporters hashing and rehashing about how serious and potent and dangerous and damaging this storm was going to be as Zone A was evacuated.
One gracious neighbor benevolently invited us over for a delicious homecooked soup that provided immediate comfort soothing to our aching bellies. It was dim inside and very quiet. From another room came the din of a reporter’s constant commentary on the impending peak of the storm. The wind outside was howling through the trees that were swaying back and forth wildly…a sudden crash from the back of the house. We all jumped as our host ran to check it out…As we wished everyone goodnight and once again thanked them for the delicious soup and hospitality, I rushed back home to call my mom and let her know we were safe.
The wind was picking up momentum and the water was dangerously rising. We watched a little more coverage on the storm before deciding to turn in. I asked Aracelli if she knew the story of the Wizard of Oz and, to my surprise, she replied “Not really”. So I gave her a condensed version of it as we fell asleep…
The following morning we awoke high and dry with all our power and utilities functioning normally, but unfortunately, the surrounding coastal areas weren’t as lucky.
As if the storm had eradicated all our thoughts of comfort, security, complacency, and worries about this, that and the other…, the things that hold us back from really living in the moment, all our anxiety had now been replaced by a feeling of excitement and new possibilities. I now live with the feeling of wanting to grab each moment as if it were my last. Where is the security or comfort of confidently knowing that things are going to go just smoothly, as we imagine anyway?
When nature displays herself with her immense power and magnificence don’t we instantly face our mortality and see how temporary and fragile our life actually is? As the week slowly progressed, more and more patients came in for treatment. Most of them seemed a bit shellshocked and wondering why they suddenly were overwhelmed with aches and pains. Even Aracelli and I were feeling it. Although the weather was crisp, clear and fresh, I couldn’t help but feel a certain hesitancy and melancholy in the air mixed with a renewed sense of gratitude and appreciation for life and loved ones… When intense feelings inhabit your body they are recorded by the fascia until they are released. Isn’t it interesting and intriguing that I woke up with the same thoughts and feelings from last week, even though the storm had already passed days earlier?