<written March 15/11.>
As I believe I’ve mentioned somewhere else on this blog, I am not a person who cries easily or often. Sometimes I feel as though there is virtually a tidal wave of tears backed up inside me, & I know I need to cry (& am more than a little afraid that once I get started, I’ll never be able to stop), but often it’s weeks or months before the blasted internal dam bursts.
Just had me one of those dam bursts yesterday…
It’s been a busy-busy-busy time in my personal life – lots of things going on & many, many details & arrangements to keep straight in this rather odd nomadic existence I lead.
The nuclear accident in Japan has hit me very hard. I feel as though there is a heavy weight sitting on my chest. I presume the weight is grief.
Well. I was driving out of Toronto yesterday, after a crazy week of being in Ottawa for hearings (on the radioactive steam generators) & then switching households & preparing for a family birthday in Toronto – then having the birthday celebration – & then, afterward, the utterly insane madness of traffic on the 401 outside of Toronto (I do very often use the GO transit system when going into Toronto, but with lasagna & a cake to haul along with me on this trip, that wasn’t possible).
So I’d managed to survive the suicidal/homicidal traffic madness on the 401 (it wasn’t even anywhere near rush hour!) and was heading northward when suddenly I spotted what I take to have been a very mangy-looking young wolf running along at the side of the road. Suddenly, the tear dam burst.
It was seeing that poor, lost creature – an utter innocent – very likely soon to lose its life, I’m sure, among the too-speedy, too-heedless, too-thoughtless & witless car madness – a creature into whose habitat we overly fertile humans have thoughtlessly encroached – & finally, happily! the tears gushed out.
Interestingly, those tears didn’t feel the slightest bit personal. They weren’t about me at all. There are one or two circumstances in my life I’d change a bit, if I could – but mostly I’m wildly grateful for the many, many blessings in my life.
No. Those tears weren’t personal. I was crying for all of it. All of “it” & all of us.
The mess we’ve made of this beautiful planet. Our devastation of the natural world. The industrialization of our children.
And Japan – Heaven help us! – how could this happen to the country that had the horror of the atomic bombs visited upon them???
Well. The tears flowed & flowed & flowed. Eventually, of course, they finally let up.
Today there is still this profound heaviness sitting on my chest.
I am grateful no one is insisting that I perform gargantuan feats of … anything… right now.
I’m going to allow this grief to slow me down. To do some reflecting. To be grateful for what remains.