We heard the news. We prepared and waited. We rode out the storm.
In the aftermath of a second hurricane in 12 months time, I realized that we have to count our blessings in a changing landscape. Experiencing once again, that the illusion of control we exert upon our daily lives is quickly and effortlessly altered. Much like the loss of a child, you don’t get to chose what or how much you lose. You simple have to live through it.
And waking up in the morning to realize that the nightmare is not a dream is like feeling the flood waters surge again. Coming to take, wash away and carve a different reality. It is totally unstoppable and altering, flowing into every space and crevice to seep pain and hurt in places that you didn’t know existed until they are washed upon the surface of your front yard.
Blessings are still there, to be found in the rubble and turned over in the muck. Like simple treasures waiting to be unearthed after the chaos and devastation. I hold my blessings close and urge those who are able to do the same. It is not an easy exercise, but one that helps you feel sane in the middle of insanity.