Something about an earthquake that only causes minor damage and minor injuries is a wake-up call, makes you count your blessings, makes you want to call everyone you know and make sure they’re okay even though you know they are.
Chipper and I were resting, side by side, under the covers, when I thought we were experiencing an extremely low fly over by a helicopter. Well, even those don’t make the bed shake and the paintings shake on the walls. Hmmm. And then people screaming inside and outside like, what was that, and running. No. That was another earthquake. There could be another one. We should get outside. So I put Chipper on his harness and leash, flip flops, phone, what else do I need? Apparently nothing, I look around the apartment uselessly, helplessly. There is no time.
Outside, I’m happy to see my neighbors and they are happy to see me. One says she remembers the earthquake from 1972 when she was in her homeland of Nicaragua, when 35,000 people died in Managua. She touches her daughter’s head beside her. I was her age, she says. She shakes her own head, remembering. I remember it, too. I was about the same age as she was then, although I remember Viet Nam more, but I don’t say that. We are quiet. We don’t know what to do. Her daughter and son pet Chipper and Chipper looks at me, wondering what we are doing. I realize I should call Jason. Then I realize there are all kinds of phone problems … but we reach each other … eventually we all go back inside and it’s easier to IM than to phone …
I have trouble sleeping and eating last night because I’m so wired, but then that’s PTSD for you … such as it is. Could have been worse.
Today I got an email from the American Red Cross on Earthquake Preparedness and forwarded it to Jason and his sister Cathy because we had just been talking about that yesterday, about the chaos in the capital city, that especially after 9/11, how crazy the traffic was, how unprepared we all were — crazy.
Yesterday in counseling before the earthquake was kind of a wake-up call, ironically, too. It was kind of like, glass half-empty or half-full? Kind of a nudge toward positive thinking again. I’m sure you all are happy to hear that nudge. I’m doing my best to be positive and move forward, in fits and starts, and recreate myself, rejuvenate, move past this awful past stuff. Today I’m feeling somewhat better, but then I just had a haircut. Heh. Always makes me feel like a puppy. Shake!
On Monday they had to cancel my first physical therapy evaluation for this round due to illness on the part of my therapist, but today it should happen. I’m kind of ready to get back into a regime. I haven’t been doing my yoga properly for three weeks due to the grieving and for three weeks before that due to the migraines. That’s bad. So I’m due. Not like I haven’t been walking for thirty minutes a day, but that’s a given with my lovely walking companion, Chipper, Lord love him! 🙂
Painted last night and started to feel badly about it, but I like the end result. Hoping to finish the first layers of the background in the next few days and then get back to the delicate foreground again. Thinking I might create a pastel of this piece next. ? Not sure, but I think it might be a lovely example/exercise for the Paiute children, and for me.
Finished Ethical Wisdom: What Makes Us Good, by Mark Matousek, about two days ago, and letting my counselor borrow it now. It is such a great book. I can’t recommend it enough. Now I’m on Buddha Standard Time. I’m hopeful that this new reading will help me balance my grief and loss over (Nameless) with something equally big and spiritual in place. That is my hope anyway. Maybe it will help me cross over, back into my relatively blissful place, where I was before I remembered, before I entered perimenopause a few years ago. Atraversiamo.