Life on the Edge/Dangerous Beauty

*San Clemente, CA during the Tsunami Advisory that was issued here.

The earth seems angry, very angry.  I say the earth, but it might just as well be God, Adonai, Buddha, YHWH, Jesus Christ, or any number of the Hindu Deities.  The rage is expressed in mind-numbing rattles and surging walls of water rushing five hundred miles an hour toward panic-stricken people.  Clinging to tree branches which race by in a moment of pure instinct-motivated survival.  Praying even if for the first time in an entire life.  Gasping for air.  Grabbing for the surface.  Moving toward the light.

My heart aches in a rhythm which can only be described as that of the rolling waves which thunder below my window.  I live on the edge of what is known as the Pacific Ring of Fire.  80-90 percent of the world's earthquakes occur within this area.  This is a fact.  And as a Californian, I have lived with the knowledge of this fact since my husband and I packed up everything we owned in a Dodge cube-van, and trekked out to California twenty-six years ago next September, to begin our life together.  To plant our own roots.  To raise our own family.  To flourish.  And yet, living in an area of such natural beauty also brings with it the immanent possibility of destruction.  Living on the edge of the Pacific ocean commands respect for that which is treacherously beautiful.  Dangerously beautiful.  I have a very healthy respect for the strength and capability of nature.  I no longer go deep into the ocean, knowing that I am no longer a strong swimmer and am of no match for that which can lull me into a sense of hypnotic, false complacency.  We have an "understanding", the ocean and I.  I admit that I am no match for the things which can pull me down and eat me underneath the dark, rolling waves, and the ocean allows me to wade semi-predictably upon the shoreline, honoring its power and dangerous beauty.  Fairly simple equation, yes?  Until the ocean becomes unpredictable because of an earthquake.  Because of impending anger?  Because sometimes people do not believe it when they notice that the water is surging back, uncharacteristically, and they decide to stay anyway?

And yet, here I am living on the edge of that which is angry, beautiful and often, unpredictable.  But I will not leave.  I will not leave for many of the same reasons that the people of Japan who resided in those dangerously beautiful seaside towns did not leave.  I trust.

I trust that all of the natural wonders that were created on this Pacific Rim were placed here not to repel man, but to draw us near.  I trust that whatever statement nature, the earth, God, Krishna, etc. is making, it is not meant to make us run away, but to draw us in closer...To one another.

And so, as I sit admiring the unbridled, picturesque beauty of the Pacific ocean and its shorelines, I will focus on the trust and send a prayer for healing out into the world.  I will pray for those who live in Japan as they face this uphill struggle to piece their lives back together.  I will pray for the souls of those who were lost to this natural tragedy.  And I will pray that the world will come together to help the Japanese people remember that they are not alone.  That we are all connected, if even by oceans, in our humanity.

Because to focus on the anger would give power to that which can destroy.  But to focus on the trust, the compassion, the humanity...In that, there is always renewal.

Peace
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Refuah Shlema
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Namaste