The day after the earthquake-generated tsunami struck the north coast of Japan, I visited cnn.com to see what was happening. In one memorable video clip shot from above the former shoreline in Sendai, large fishing boats lazily battered one another.
Then, masses of debris and dozens of cars floated by in disorderly formation. The debris and the cars looked like large schools of disoriented fish.
All was happening in seeming slow motion. Adding to the surreal atmosphere was the video’s soundtrack: soothing, meditative instrumental music playing in the background.
Only when whole houses drifted by, did my stomach began to knot. Who lived in these houses? Were the residents still inside? Alive? Dead?
All at once, I sensed my own stable-seeming life cut adrift. I was now in one of those floating houses. Everything familiar was gone, and I was carried by waves and tides over which I had no control. The phrase “no direction home” came to mind.
The meditative music did soothe me. It seemed to say “Let go and flow with what is.  Trust the larger pattern. Your so-called stable life is an illusion. In the big picture, all is well.”
I appreciated the shock—and odd comfort–of this reminder. What passes? What endures? Who am I, really? This is the perspective I’m learning to return to.
What if an earthquake shook my home in Oregon to the ground? Or a firestorm burned all my possessions and killed most of my friends and neighbors? How would I react?
According to an Associated Press report yesterday, Prime Minister Naoto Kan said that Japan’s future would be decided by its response.
That gave me a jolt. How do I want to respond to crises and uncertainties? What kind of response on my part would contribute to a desirable future? And how might I begin practicing now with the small upheavals of daily life, so that my response will be immediate and life-affirming when the big ones come?
I’d love to hear how you might begin now. Or how you have already begun. Write a reply.