…. That Work in Light or Dark Worlds.
During the recent extreme Hurricane Sandy experience on New York’s unique City Island without lights, heat, phones, cell service, internet access, coffee or the ability to drive off island, these blessings came. I:
Wondered. Exactly what is electricity? And a battery? Must look up when and if Google returns.
Slept. More than seems possible, enabling everything else to feel more manageable, finally achieving near-cat status.
Cuddled. More than seems possible with the softest, most sensuous kitty cat under more blankets than seem possible.
Thanked. The forces that be for protecting the foundations of our homes.
Experienced. A slightly heightened sense of awareness of the beauty in every little thing. Scratches on wood. Hissing sounds of air. Faucet drips.
Shared. Flashlights, radios, batteries and my secret weapon car charger with several friends, new and old, making me appear temporarily marvelous.
Read. A little.
Slowed. Down the pace of life.
Made. Our beds. Sometimes.
Endured. Highly imperfect hairdos. Wrinkled clothes. Cold. Dark. Silence.
Admired. My friend Mark’s prudent inclusion of sex toys on his list of storm supplies.
Fretted. A little.
Appreciated. Jerry, Peaches, Yolanda, Paulie and sweet City Island companions.
Felt. Grateful for: sublime health, supersoft kitties, safe cars, candlelight, shared laughter.
Gained. A new sense of respect and humility towards people who seemed previously annoying at times, e.g. ConEd workers and Mayor Bloomberg who worked so hard with so much natural energy to power our universe.
Stunned. Myself by being relatively prepared with supplies, food, emergency cash, flashlights, batteries, radios, patience.
Broke. Bread—bruschetta pizza actually, dripping with fresh oil—spontaneously with City Island friends in a joyous impromptu laugh-a-thon meal.
Hoped. Our clean underwear would go the distance.
Enjoyed. The first night of dancing tree shadows and wind.
Learned. That time isn’t quite the phenomenon you often think it is. You have more than you sometimes feel. You have more peace than you sometimes feel. This moment is free.
Loved. Everyone who shared our experience. Everyone who lost something during this storm.
Accepted. Our strange, fragile and wonderful existence over which we have limited control and the opportunity to choose our reactions every day.
Editor: Malin Bergman
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