I am eerily reminded this week of my experience during Hurricane Sandy in 2012. Hunkered down here in my little house without power for days, the whole world seemingly stalled and subdued. There was no work and no technology, the roads were strangely as quiet as the airwaves. And no one knew how long it would last or how bad it might get.
At first, there was the natural reaction to kick against what I could not control. Worry and fret. Freak out. But then a calm settled in, a different pace than the norm, a day guided by the rising and setting of the sun.
Looking back now, I remember those quiet, restful days as blessings.
So here we are — on the edge of a storm we’re watching overtake everything we know as normal. And we are freaking out.
But the Universe is sending messages, if you listen. She’s there in the poem “Pandemic,” that Lynn Unger was inspired to write this week.
She’s in our daily prayers, if you are inclined, like me, to whisper on occasion:
God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference.
She even showed up yesterday morning in my meditation reading:
“We must except we are there and settled enough so we can be carried by the deep. The willingness to do this is the genesis of faith, the giving over to currents larger than us. Even fallen leaves float in lakes, demonstrating how surrender can hold us up…. In life as in water, when we curl up or flail we sink. When we spread and go still, we are carried by the largest sea if all: the sea of grace that flows steadily beneath the turmoil of events.” — Mark Nepo, The Book of Awakening
So listen for those messages.
Do the things you need to do to stay safe and healthy.
“Just as fish can’t see the ocean they live in,” writes Nepo, “We can’t quite see the spirit that sustains us.” But it’s there.