Given everything else happening in the world right now ... even here, this is so unimportant. But ... in the moment ... it was a moment ... and it was hard to let it go. All fears becoming one ... perhaps ...
Fear ... Active Fear ...
I so wish right now that something was connected. I have been afraid before but not quite like this. It is raining. Real rain. Bouncing off the ground rain. Rain so many people in so many places need so desperately to stop.
We have had so little rain. It seems like the greatest gift. And it is.
Here.
And so I stay outside to be in the rain, to feel it, to smell it, to see it, to hear it.
Inside then outside again.
Only this time, it is worse than the last time it rained - a Saturday morning when I looked across to the yard beyond and saw the oddest lights. The transformer pole. I rang. I reported. Oh yes someone would come. And you should ring 911. I rang. They rang the Fire Dept. They are here in minutes. But really I’m not sure there is a fire. Just sparkling lights. Where there should be no lights. So much of the state is on fire, has been on fire and what if .... Thank you but they look at it and walk away. Yes, tiny flames. Only the electric company can deal with this.
Eight hours later, the electric company truck pulls up outside. Well, yes, someone should come and fix this.
Tonight, there are no little lights. There are fires. Two fires. Either side of the transformer. I know the drill. 911. As I try to tell them what I see, they transfer me to the Fire Dept. As they come on the line, everything I am looking at begins to explode and flames are everywhere. A voice coming out of me is screaming at the shock of it. How do I tell them what I see. Phone is dead. They are gone. All power is off and the house is dark. By the time I find my cell phone and go back to tell them what I am seeing, it looks as though everything is golden with flame. A neighbour’s house is surrounded by flame, all flame, only flame. I can hardly get words out and what screams pour out are beyond my control. Shaking and screaming are the best I have but then I hear that engines are on their way. They have the call.
I never scream when I am afraid. Calm comes from a place I can’t identify. I deal with whatever there is. Hours later, when all is well, then I shake. Not this night.
In minutes fire engines are in front of my house and then they see where the flames are. Electrical flames. Fire. Police. Neighbours. Rain. We wait or is the electric company already here.
One flame runs straight down a line on the ground beside this neighbour’s house. No one breathes. Someone seems to flick a switch. A crash and flames are gone. Gold has disappeared. But will it come again.
All is quiet now though all is still dark. I find candles, light them and they help. Candlelight helps everything. There is nothing I can do outside.
Fire. I so love to watch flames in a fireplace, but this ... this is terror before your eyes.
Thank God for rain. I hear it now. I think I’ll go out and be in it again for a while. Rain is falling from my eyes and everything is shaking just a bit. Over now. It takes a while to believe. Rain. It helps. It so helps. In a little while, may it bring calm as well.
If I could have reached the Truckstop, and I tried, I’d have told this all to Vinny who’d have stayed until fear fled.
Instead I came inside and wrote by candle light.
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and breath deep and draw on the strength in the world flow
And exhale slow knowing I understand and care deeply
for you always and forever....
Relax dear...its over now..
so well written, I felt the escalation of fear and your spirit which is so full of optimism always.
Vinny and I will greet you at the door, remove your coat and sink into the cushions, tea and comfort.
Rita, thanks for your thoughts. I think I was trying to steady myself and the Truckstop was where I knew I could be. Calm. Safe. But no internet ... and so I wrote. It calmed my fingers as I wrote. I don't think anyone slept all night. As long as it rained, blessed rain, there wasn't much that could be done. I kept going outside and listening to the rain ... in the dark. Once when I went out, I saw flashlight arcs everywhere and finally knew the electric people were there. When I heard saws in action, I knew they were doing something. Just as you began to trust the dark and the quiet, more explosions. Whatever they were trying was causing more fire. You are so not in control. In some ways it is all too sudden to be afraid. I never thought about this house even though I sensed every house could go at once, in a conflagration of flame. It is too much to take in even as you take it all in.
Sinking into the cushions, Rita and Vinny, and yes, thank you for the tea. Funny the sanctuaries that hold us best. And the music that calms us even when we need to hear it in memory.
When you here or hereabouts dropping by, commenting, collating as if it were all ok. ...
I think candlelight & pencils & paper are one thing, & people's places burning because it's not our union something else altogether.
I too, wish you were by the sea.
Preferably a shingle shore, not far away.
Fear is perfectly the response, a1. Hey.
Once power came back ... and when it came back again, I came here. It was the familiar, the known, the calm, the voices I know well.
Thanks for your words, Kim. They help more than you know.
By the sea ... a shingle shore ... not far away. Yes. Yes, please.
I wish I were there right now. Meanwhile ... I know where I can see a shore under the most beautiful moon.
To Vinny, at least, in a calm I know, in a calm I trust. By a beach and a sea that are my calm. Here.
Gabby. I’ve had to go away for a while and let your words float. You are so practical, but somehow reading your words brought all the shaking present tense again. I’ve never been so close to such explosive flame. Somehow on and off through the night and in the first days, an image came and came and came again. A student, a freshman back in Hingham years ago was upstairs in her bedroom and a fire broke out. She was frightened and hid under her bed. Her mother realized where Martha might have been and turned to go back after her. They found the mother collapsed on the stairs suffering from smoke inhalation. Martha never moved. And she was gone. She was with me when fear came here. A more powerful awareness of someone else’s fear. Thanks for your common sense.
Lilly, Thank you for coming to read.
Jeff, Thanks. I appreciate your words. Active fear - a moment indeed.
When the fear lived, I yearned for a familiar place of calm. When I saw the internet was down and no road was open, I talked to Vinny from here. Lovely to have such a familiar place of warmth when fear is pounding deep inside. Cushions always there for soft landings. And voices here ... from there. Gifts ... all.
Good morning. Good night.
Much love.
"I never scream when I am afraid. Calm comes from a place I can’t identify. I deal with whatever there is. Hours later, when all is well, then I shake."
Me too.