01/09/2023

‘Tis the Season

A thrashing gust wakes me. I’m greeted by the smell of a dog’s breath and an unfamiliar room. 

It takes me a moment to recollect where I am. Justice stirs next to me as I blink Bailey, my sister-in-law’s Pomeranian, into focus. He’s freaked out and panting in my face, nestled behind the recliner we’ve set up an air mattress next to. I pat his head softly to reassure him until another gust stirs everyone in the room. 

All night we’ve been on guard, watching tireless weather updates as the Gulf of Mexico is introduced to our tenth tropical storm of the season, Hurricane Idalia. 

There have been small, ominous, signs of impending doom throughout the last week. A portrait of Jesus with a bible verse about resilience and strength written below it sits on a shelf at the supermarket. I like to think whoever propped it against the black olives did so with the best of intentions, but it leaves me feeling grim. People dart around the aisles hoarding bottled water, and canned goods, and bickering about whether they should stock up on their favourite sugar-free barbeque sauce. Normal things like deadlines and meal plans start slipping into meaninglessness. 

Plans become tentative as everyone waits for a storm to enter the gulf. Storms only become real here when they've been given a name. It’s hard for life to continue on as normal during the waiting. You find yourself writing to-do lists that have “schedule job interview” and “board up windows” on the same day.

When a storm is confirmed, there’s a wave of sort-of relief. You know, vaguely, the threat you’re facing and you can create a plan. In our case, it meant staying with my in-laws. Better to be together than stranded if your house gets flooded. I often find myself quietly slipping into magical thinking during these periods of upheaval. I’ll look for signs that things will be okay, or try to busy myself with tasks that I’d want to do if it were my last chance to ever do it. I like to think I’m tricking the universe into letting me live if I finally commit to reading Joan Didion. 

Bailey pants into my ear as I read the weather radar on my phone. I can smell his prescription dog food and rotten teeth. Our dog, Ladybug, squirms under the blanket, crawling up closer to Justice’s chest. He tiredly tucks her in once she’s settled and gives her a cuddle. Rain is flying directly against the front door as the wind gusts pick up. I find myself whispering “Please let us live” on repeat until the wind dies down. 

Strange things become soft comforts when you’re waiting for a tornado to tear up the world around you. The standby light of the television; the neon green flicker of an oven clock; the soft click of the central air conditioning kicking on. Things aren’t so bleak when the room isn’t pitch black and the familiar hum of a house carries on, undisturbed. When the wind and rain stop lashing the world outside, and the power stays firmly on, I decide to keep reading my book. I’m too wired to even consider the usual comfort of sleep.

The morning after a Florida storm is surreal. You wake up more tired than when you tried to go to sleep. Time feels warped, like that period between Christmas and New Year's. It's humbling and life-affirming to be on the other side of a storm until you see how much shit you have to clean up.

This month, we got lucky. Idalia skirted by us and left us dealing with the whiplash of outer bands. A year ago, we weren’t as fortunate. Perhaps it was divine intervention, maybe that portrait of Jesus had found the right person, or perhaps I really did manage to trick the universe this time around. As it turns out, I’ve got a lot more to read than Didion before hurricane season is over. 

This month, I encourage you to count the good things around you. If you find yourself lacking, look for the weird and wonderful happenstances that are woven into your life.

Updates: 

On a more uplifting note: In August, my essay, Redefining Distraction: Taking Ownership of Your Autonomy, was shortlisted for The Fountain's annual essay contest. This year's prompt focused on "How to Focus in an Era of Distraction." Details to come on where to read it 🤠

Food For Thought

“Every one of us needs to show how much we care for each other and, in the process, care for ourselves.”
―Princess Diana