I looked out the window into the thick darkness, the only illumination a blue sensor light by my neighbor’s pond below. A thick cloud cover obscured even the idea of a star. I knelt on the Lane cedar chest that was my Mom’s hope chest, now vintage, I suppose, and was soon joined by my two cats. They purred amiably seeing as little in the dark as I did, but happy to join my watch. It was 4:30 a.m.
It’s never my intention to be up at this hour and it only happens on two occasions. One, Claude goes to down to the kitchen and begins caterwauling for whatever his reasons are, (and it’s never lack of food or water.) Or, two, I have something on my mind. This time it was the latter; I was contemplating the arrival of Sandy, the variously named hurricane, nor`easter, tropical storm that is working its way up the East coast, and the implications it may have on our lives.
10′ surges already pound the southern shore of my state, and landfall, wind speeds, rainfall are being ever more accurately predicted. It becomes apparent that we can choose to fill ourselves with the minutiae of every changing twist and turn of the storm or gather the information we need and return to our lives. Clearly, the latter offers a more calming result.
I was reading Mark Nepo this morning. I opened the book to where I’d last left off, and his daily reflection was perfect for today. He wrote, ” It can’t be helped. We return through different questions to the same central issue: How do we live fully? How do we live in such a way that the wonder of feeling outfuels the pain of breaking?”
Perhaps waiting for a storm, living through a storm, is exactly a return to that question. Shall we live the next few days in enjoyment, in fulfilling whatever tasks we have planned despite the rage of a storm or curl inward in fear and anxiety of what may be? Shall we try and believe in our strengths or succumb to unnecessary defeat? Shall we search for the wonder or break?
Twelve hours after the 4:30 a.m. vigil, there is one unavoidable conclusion: whatever Sandy brings, she brings. We’ve gotten everything in place that we can, and now we wait, knowing we can do no more. Is there still wonder in life? Yes … in every moment. The challenge, to hold on and believe.
Still A Dreamer 
All eyes on your part of the world Jeanne. Keep us posted. Enjoy the ride and thank you for sharing with us what it feels like to brace for a storm – be prepared, live and breathe. Take good care and many hugs, Sharon
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Thanks so much, Sharon. So far, my little corner of the world is doing OK and we have power, but it’s not expected to hit here full force until later this afternoon through tomorrow. I feel badly for our shore and those living there, where people in some areas have been evacuated on a mandatory basis and where heavy damage is already occurring. They have the most to contend with, though last year, Irene was expected to hit the shore, but instead, hit further inland, including where I live. Thanks for your good wishes and kind thoughts. Jeanne
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Dearest Jeanne-
My thoughts are with you and your kitties and anyone else in this storm’s path. I too prepare, sans critters, and mostly wait and add water to the house in buckets. At least we are not coping with the heat of July, and I have plenty of warm blankets to hide under. The freezer is full of ice bars to swiftly transfer to my two five-day coolers. Not much in the fridge anyway, as I always live on dried fruit, nuts, and berries during these unknown times.
Blessings to you my dear. Give your kitties a hug for me and let me know how you are after this passes. D.
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Hi, Diane. Thanks for your kind words and blessings. I stocked up on kitty meds and food, so I know they’ll be OK; have lots of water; and I can always manage with food of one kind or another. Because I have propane for the stove, I can also cook so long as I have water, and thankfully, for the first time in a long time, I am not dependent on a well. So if the bottled water I depend on for drinking and cooking does run out, I should have water of some kind. Power outages are different issues, but we can manage without heat/lights for awhile.
I’ll definitely hug the kitties for you. 🙂
Jeanne
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How are you today Jeanne??
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Hi, Diane … I’m OK, thank you for checking on me. By some miracle, my little portion of town was restored to power 24 hours after Sandy hit. I was floored and so very grateful. And even more amazingly, my cable, which connects me to the outside world and which runs over a dead branch through a towering blue spruce, was still intact at both ends of the connection. The wind blew it 4′ up the branch towards the trunk of the tree, but so far so good. Not one friend of mine in this county or the next one over has power yet. The devastation in New Jersey, especially the shore, and surrounding areas is horrible. Already there are 3 hour lines here for gas for cars or generators. It really is quite frightening. I may post about it, but not today.
Tx,
Jeanne
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