In my commitment to stay an optimist no matter what I’ve had some trials lately. The first you’ve probably heard on the news:

Severe Drought in Texas.

For us as faux-homesteaders this is Inconvenient, but not Devastating. And thank heavens we aren’t farmers for real, or the hail storm that crushed the young transplants would have left us far more than disappointed.
No internet, electricity, phone, or cell for several days helps to put
the world back into perspective. Or, if it doesn’t, it leaves you wondering why you keep trying exactly.

What is most ineffective is coming at my natural feelings of victimization from the place most commonly chosen:

At least I wasn’t them, who lost their home, job, car. Ok actually I have been them, twice, and then I said:

At least I wasn’t them, who lost their cousin, neighbor, spouse.

OK! I get it!
Then what?

Comparing myself and others to the most miserable of the miserly?

I suppose some folks must find this line of thinking helpful, or they wouldn’t repeat it so often. I find it to be centered fully in the Denial box. For how many unfortunate events must we look to find comfort in those less fortunate before we are allowed to have feelings for ourselves?

We are hardly allowed a nanosecond in the reflective period post-chaos before others are shouting for us to stop feeling “sorry” for ourselves and jump aboard the rapid recovery train and recommit to the status quo, usually while I’m still left reeling from the question: Recommitment to what, exactly?

The answer being my pretense that I have any control over anything and that the majority of time I spend working feels quite fundamentally sometimes like an enormous waste of my time and absolutely not appreciated by the universe or anyone else?

So, there’s my nanosecond.
Moving on now. What was the hail and the loss of connection really trying to tell me? That I am powerless? Maybe that I still rely too heavily on all the society’s externals? Or maybe I’m really a believer in total randomness. Actually, I’ve had an important observation in this inconvenience: The majority of nature recovers quickly, much more so than I.

I spent those power-free days over-analyzing what it feels like to be without connection, and without control over the basics of life. I was on edge, restless, trying to
force myself into submission to the greater field of life. No connection, no cyber world, no work, and for a time, total silence. I knew the lesson, have been trying to live it, but the pull to action and/or victimization is relentless. In fact an entirely new approach is required. A lesson lies under every rock, so to speak.

The universe was offering me in those days exactly what I treasure most: silence, leisure time, fodder for reflection, but I could not appreciate it in the moment, because it was not on my terms, and at my convenience. I felt the same way after Hurricanes Katrina and Ike: Any situation that is forced upon you feels world’s different than one that’s chosen. It’s both a personal and universal truth that requires my constant
re-learning.