I think mamma nature was trying to tell us something last week with that hurricane she sent our way. She wants us to slow down. To stop being busy. To disconnect from our keyboards and reconnect with living, breathing human beings.
For the first time in months I sat on the couch, with absolutely nothing to do.
I couldn’t load the dishwasher because it wouldn’t turn on.
I couldn’t check a billion blogs because internet also miraculously runs on power.
I couldn’t vacuum the floor because apparently that requires a working outlet as well.
Instead, I had the opportunity to give my brain a workout.
I picked up a book. A real one, with pages and everything! The Stand by Stephen King. If you know me, you know that I’m a complete germaphobe and this book is not helping my situation any. I had to leave the deli line at the grocery yesterday because a man was hacking up a lung very similarly to how the disease ridden characters of the book do. But, I love it so far. Visceral, my brother calls this book.
I thinked. I thinked a lot. About how lucky I was. I live 6.6 miles from ocean and surprisingly suffered very little/no damage. Sure, it was a little cold with no power, but who doesn’t love pretending to live in the little house on the prairie every once in a while?
I maybe also ate my weight in junk food. I don’t know why I decided that a hurricane gives me permission to eat anything and everything, but after a week of candy I have never appreciated a stick of celery more.
If it’s possible to have a favorite part of a hurricane, mine was definitely the fact that it stopped everyone, even if it was just for a week or so. All of the sudden people that are too busy to call their grandmas have no obligations to do anything but call their grandmas.
Deadlines can always be pushed back, especially in a world ruled by the internet. Floors can always be cleaned tomorrow, especially if it’s too cold to walk around sockless anyway. Work will always be there. Bills will always be there.
But the fire in the fireplace? That’s there for you to sit next to right now. That dusty old guitar from the college days of ’84? That should be tickled right now. Those new neighbors that aren’t really that new since they’ve lived there for a year? This is when you can get to know them.
Don’t wait for the rain. Be here now.