The week began with news that blew me away: a beloved colleague, who was the rock and heart of the college where I work, died suddenly. Then the wind picked up to the tune of 50-plus mph gusts that shook the house around my shaken heart.
The wind, part of a weather system called a bombogenesis, was so strong that I had to postpone a classroom visiting and reading in Hutchinson, Kansas, 200 miles from here, because it was too risky to drive without being blown off the road or into oncoming traffic. The grief my college community feels is so strong that it’s hard for many of us to stay on the road of whatever task we’re following, and we share our pain as well as love for our colleague through phone calls and emails.
There are times in life when we’re blown-away: blasted out of our usual ways of being or thinking, maybe even out of our minds too. It’s hard to sleep, think, remember to turn off the stove or step outside into the wild yet grounding presence of the world. It’s scary and edgy, strange and familiar, and altogether a moment that shines and blares how vulnerable we are, how precious our lives, and how fast things can change.
Yet I also recognize that at such times, I’ve blown right into the center of my heart, however flawed and confused it is. There’s nothing like being blown away to make me stop in my tracks, see that they are somewhat arbitrary tracks to begin with, and reconnect with what matters: being kind, loving, and empathetic. Staying as safe as possible and off the roads to potential danger when the big winds come. Taking care of myself and others as best I can. Catching up on sleep, the dishes, and remembering to feed the birds.
Today the sun shines brightly and the wind is below 20 mph. But elsewhere in the world, people are being blown away by the mass shooting hate crime in New Zealand and the fast-moving floods swallowing whole towns in Nebraska. Bombogeneses usually happen over the ocean, intensifying hurricanes, but they’ve proven they can happen over the land, and when it comes to human behavior, a sudden intensifying of damage and loss can also drop to new lows.
In the aftermath of such wild weather, we can recognize why why we’re alive, which I think always has to do with showing up, even with a trembling heart, for ourselves and each other especially when we’re most blown away.
