Hurricane Ike

In answer to many of your queries, All Is Well.

In the microcosm, I arrived home yesterday, having been in Knoxville for a week. When I first turned
into my neighborhood, I drove slowly, taking in the new visuals. When I left, trees were in their full summer suit of glossy leaves, stretching ever higher over the rooftops. Now there are piles of cut up wood at every driveway, refuse bundled up, litter everywhere. In about every fifth yard, there is a big tree, raw wood jutting out at impossible angles, drooping limbs dragging the ground. As I drove, I felt sad, like when someone you care about either dies or gets really ill.

I love my own big tree. I've been working to stay out of dread, out of putting any emphasis on the foreboding images flashing through my mind. In fact, I had more anxious thoughts about my tree than I did my home, which I guess I just figured would fare well – which it did. So when I turned the corner 
onto my street, I saw my tree – upright, all limbs in tact – happiness flooding my body. However, there are several swaths of missing leaves, rather like a bad barber's cut. Poor baby. But just as hair grows back, so will its leaves.

I have electricity and water and phone service; all windows still in place; roof still looks in good shape; 
the only visible damage being parts of my fence which lie in a couple of my neighbors' yards – it needed to be replaced anyway.

Rebecca and Hayleigh came back yesterday, Troy's coming back today – their home also sustained no damage – just a fence realignment is needed. All other members

of my family are good, as are all More to Life students that I know about. We have a communication circle that keeps up with most of us. There are several friends who have homes in Galveston/League City, who have not been allowed to return yet. So that's in our immediate future. Schools are still closed – electricity and water are still off in major sections – debris is everywhere.

In the macrocosm, Hurricane Ike is yet another of Mother Nature's reminders about who's really in charge. It rampaged through here uncontested by mankind, who fortunately has matured enough to be able to detect and prepare for some of Mother Nature's majestic productions. It has brought together people serving others who are less fortunate. Stop lights are out in most places, and people are calmly awaiting their turn – at gas stations and grocery stores as well. It's like we've all been in a huge lifegame (an experiential simulation often employed by the More to Life program, which gives people an opportunity to practice integrating spiritual warrior behaviors and skills). There seems to be a camaraderie that ties us together, having experienced a dramatic re-prioritizing of what's important.

I wonder why it takes such a shake-up for us to realign with ourselves? Why don't we stay connected to our personal and collective values? What can we/will we put in place to retain the lessons taught us yet again?