What Matters Most

In the wake of yet another devastating hurricane, “Milton” - incomprehensibly coming right on the heels of “Helene” - those of us at ground zero are driven right to our very core of inquiry into what matters to each of us, most of all. I was incredibly fortunate that the forceful and high ocean surge unprecedented for our town spared my house - it appears that what saved mine (a second time) was a couple of extra feet of elevation, and a distance of one or two extra blocks. Homes very close to mine were totally flooded, twice in two weeks. While I am so relieved about my own house, I am also surrounded by devastation in my close-knit small community. My yard is an immediate reminder, as it is a major mess, with many plants lost, all plants burned by the saltwater spray (they will lose all their leaves, and some will grow them back) and structures knocked over. The entire outside surface of my home is covered in dirt and debris.

A friend in my community sent this text today, to our group thread:
“Could someone please go to my house, untape my front door and get the wet towels out please. I know everything else is ok. Just don’t want them to start stinking. I am trying to get back. No power here still and looking for gas. We waited in line for gas for two hours this morning and it’s running out as fast. Three locations this morning and over a hundred cars in line.”

I am feeling fortunate also that I had filled my car’s tank several days before the storm, and evacuated to an area I knew I could get to, and back home from, on less than a tank of gas. These small decisions can become critical in an unfolding disaster scenario. There are so many decisions to make. And, we cannot predict everything - the hotel I stayed in looked very sturdy and was on high ground, yet multiple large tornadoes passed VERY close to it. First responders were being staged in a baseball stadium in St. Petersburg, and had to be rescued when the roof blew off. Perhaps next time I will evacuate to Michigan!

Right now, I am exhausted and my whole body hurts. I really don’t know how I would be coping if my home had flooded or sustained really major damage. But I do know that we are brought to our knees, in stark realization that along with all our possessions, our life and breath has been threatened, and is the one thing that is most precious of all (even though never guaranteed, so we are wise to remember that as well!).

Simultaneously, I am grateful when people trying to offer support acknowledge that even though we are alive and breathing, and homes and possessions are generally replaceable (though some are not), there is a level of trauma, loss, exhaustion and grief in a disaster of this magnitude that needs recognition and exquisite care, in order for us all to move forward honestly. Anyone who has lived or owned property here over the past few summers has likely developed some impressive muscles for facing hurricane events (I know I have!!). We believed the magnitude of hurricane “Ian” in 2022 was our 100-year event, but this summer alone we have sustained devastating effects from 3 major storms. Even people with the biggest hurricane muscles are petering out.

Pictures from my neighborhood

I don’t yet know what new life decisions I might make, in the bigger picture. In this moment though, I am just beginning to assess damages, check in with community, help where I can, and start somewhere in the massive ongoing cleanup process. Power and limited water were restored to my home yesterday. This morning, I scrubbed my kitchen sink and counter (pretty gross after a few days of a friend living here with no running water or power), and I put away some of the many items that were moved to high shelves to protect them from the anticipated flooding. Later today, if I have the energy, I will clean the debris off my porches so they become usable again. I know how much putting the essential parts of the house back in order helps me maintain some mental and emotional poise. I am acutely aware of friends and community members who will not be able to do that for many long months, and must endure this trauma without the security and comfort of their familiar home base.

I am going to keep this week’s post short, because there is much to tend to, here on my property and in my community. So….what matters most?

• Our lives and well-being

• Recognition (by ourselves and others) that our recovery and need for healing is significant, and will take TIME

• Acknowledgment that our losses of material things, beloved natural features like our parks and beaches, and familiar buildings, resources, and gathering spaces has a huge impact on us

• Offers of compassion, and practical help

Some people may benefit from reminders of the many beautiful, magical and meaningful blessings all around us, even in a trauma such as this (and perhaps especially noticed in the incomprehensible chaos of this type of scenario). These noticings help us keep on keeping on. But most of all, right now, we need permission to grieve our losses, and practical help with the restoration process. In fact, these generous and heartfelt human offerings are some of our greatest blessings at this very vulnerable time.