The Ripple Effect
This has been a difficult week for my area of the country, the Southeast. As I write that idea, memories of taking the SAT in high school come to my mind. Flashbacks of deciphering analogies that sometimes appeared to make sense only to the SAT authors. In this moment, “difficult” is to hurricane as grain of sand is to beach. “Difficult” feels minuscule, almost nonexistent, completely inadequate in its description just as a grain a sand is on a beach.
For this area of the country, Hurricane Helene has just passed over, barreled through, ripped a wound in the topography and lives of everything and everyone in her path. Her energy, her fury, her power was scattered through the raindrops that fell, one after another after another, until she was exhausted and slowly drifted away. The bands of rain were physical weapons of destruction and impenetrable walls to protect the eye of the storm. They reached farther and farther away, measured in miles of distance and hours of time and strength of gusts of wind until she became the leaves merely fluttering from her whispers of anger.
For me this has been a week of listening to stories of grief and sadness for the loss of lives, the loss of connection to homes and communities, the loss of the way of living in small southern towns where everyone knows everyone and families go on for generations. It’s been a week of gathering with people, hearing fear when loved ones and friends could not be reached, waiting endless moments for an “I’m ok” reply. It’s been a week of listening to frustration, the sense of helplessness that comes when compassion is felt so deeply that feeling unable to take away the pain of others leaves it’s own mark, it’s own scar, a sense of despair and uselessness.
This is the Ripple Effect.
When you toss a rock into a pond, there is a point of contact in which the rock sinks into the calm surface. From this eye the first small ripple quickly builds in power in energy to create bigger, higher, faster ripples which push outwards as they displace the energy of the rock hitting the water. Moving away from the center drains the ripples of their energy and their ability to push the calm water, fish, water plants out of their way. These smaller ripples must instead navigate their surroundings, ebbing and flowing rather than pushing, compromising rather than forcing.
Hurricane Helene’s physical ripple began at the eye, the energy of the winds and rain moving from the center outward. It started quietly, then roared as it gained energy and took its wrath against anything directly in its path and along it’s sides. Band after band, gust after gust she widened and then weakened. Bands of rain slowly turned into drizzle and gusts of winds slowed to fall breezes lightly blowing the colored leaved from the trees and down the sidewalks.
Hurricane Helene’s emotional ripple also began at the eye, quiet like the days before she arrived. Those days when life was normal and the small moments of the day seem mundane- a hot shower, turning on the tv to relax, driving home for dinner. They passed by without a thought. This calm suddenly became a crisis, a catastrophe, life-or-death for many with all the ensuing emotions swirling around, leaving us beyond words, without an explanation that made sense, without the safe spaces and people that grounded us. This is the sense of helplessness that continued to flow outward, calling people to action, motivating phone calls and texts to check in, and leaving others wandering and wondering how to show caring and concern from a distance.
Sometimes relationships are like hurricanes. They can be a category 1 up to a category 5. They have quiet moments which suddenly turn furious; words are hurled in bands of anger fueled by gusts of resentments and raindrops of criticism, defensives, and contempt. Their bands reach farther and farther out with their collateral damage- kids, friends, ability to work, physical health, crumbling self-esteem, infidelity, addiction. We can feel helpless, battered by the onslaught of negative energy, unable to know where to go or what to do.
We heal the open wounds from physical hurricanes in small steps: fixing a roof; cleaning up branches; replacing the carpeting; repainting the walls; making a donation of time, money, or supplies. We heal the open wounds of emotional hurricanes small steps as well: sharing kind words, offering a warm smile, writing a note of appreciation, sending flowers, baking a cake, saying “I’m sorry”, extending a hand to hold or arms to hug or lips to kiss.
So much heaviness in this week of grief and pain. But today the sun is warm, the sky is a clear Carolina blue, and the breeze is a gentle touch on the cheek. It’s time to clean up, to heal, to reestablish what is meaningful and brings us purpose in our lives and let the rest go, to take a small step in healing from the storms in our lives.
To all of you touched by Hurricane Helene or by whatever physical or emotional storm that has brought you pain, my heart feels you and sends its love. We are in this life together, with one another, for one another.
Embrace your best self! Anne