I watched the Tsunami hit Japan, last weekend, from the lobby of the Hilton in Long Beach, Ca. After returning from a Jason Mraz concert, it seemed like a celebration was in order. It had been a great night.
Sitting in the lobby bar and sipping on a green tea latte, I wondered about the incongruity of place at the moment vs. the fear racing through those fighting for space and a place, on highways, as they escape possible death by tsunami. Earlier in the day, I received a text message from a friend in Ka'apa, Kauai, who said the tsunami sirens were eerie, as they blasted the entire island. Vehicles and people were jamming the small, two lane highway up from the beach, through the canyon, to the Wailua Country Store, across from the house.
Earlier that day, in spite of the tsunami warning posted for southern California-Tijuana border up to northern Oregon, I drove my rented, convertible jeep, down the coast, to Oceanside, to meet friends, arriving for lunch from TJ Playa. They had not seen the news of the 8.8 earthquake in Chile, and hence, did not realize we were having lunch at ground zero, across from the Oceanside pier.
After I told them about the earthquake and tsunami warning, Miriam and Tcat both smiled as I said that if I was going to leave the earth that afternoon, I could not imagine two better friends to share it with.
In the moments of life, when mass consciousness absorbs and interacts with a fear level, of such magnitude, sometimes the best action to take is simply to become a Balancer of Energy.Humor and sincerity can go a long way to alleviate those moments of realization about near-death.
As I drove past the nuclear domes, at the San Onofre Nuclear Generating Station, on the way down the coast, with my windows rolled down, and the Mraz CD blasting away, there was a short moment of realization that a 33 foot high wall of water could hit at that moment, and that new black Jeep convertible and I would be swimming with the tuna, let alone, a nuclear blast, perhaps would take care of turning us into fresh, grilled, atomic energy sludge.
I said my prayer of protection, surrounded me and that rental car in white light and continued on, focusing on the wicked winds and dark clouds, blowing in from the sea, and the music I was about to hear, that evening, live.
Live in the moment, stay on course, and hold on to your joy even though the world around you is slipping into the sea, or dissolving beneath your feet.
I have taught myself over the years, to once in a while remind myself that this breath, this one right now, could be my last. This practice has helped me focus my life, guiding my steps a little straighter, toward my soul's mission, and allowed joy a VIP spot in my consciousness.
There have been times in my life when death was a half breath away, however, it just was not my time. So here I sit, in my cozy two bedroom house, above the Puget Sound, 30 miles south of Seattle, a week later to the day, worrying about buying a router and hub tomorrow since my Internet cable seems to be interfering with the VOIP cable, and the net goes down for a few seconds, before it catches the pulse and re-connects to the Internet.
Sitting in the comfortable Hilton lobby last Saturday night, watching the Tokyo reports, reminders of the last tsunami to hit Japan, caused by an earthquake in Peru in the 60's, were voiced over again by reporters. Men and women, who might have known someone, in the villages of Japan, that were swept away that deadly day, so long ago.
I looked around at the hotel guests seated near me.
2 Venezuelan men were chatting about their kids and a woman was telling her husband about her day at the Queen Mary. Normal conversations in the midst of a possible terrible tragedy about to sweep away a few hundred more lives, into the Sea of Japan.
The cab driver told me about George the Greek's restaurant, on the way back from the Terrace Theater, that evening, since I told him my grandfather was from Crete. He was laughing about George and how George liked to spend time with the patrons and make everyone comfortable at his restaurant. A man who enjoyed life and those in it.
As I crawled into the wonderful Hilton bed that night, with 8 pillows and a mattress one could marry for life, I realized what a wonderful day I had and sent thanks to the universe I was alive. Then I said my prayers for those who died, who suffered and were in fear at that moment.
I realized the best thing I could do that evening, beside making love with a handsome man who loved me (yet to find me), I could pray for those who lived and died that day and thank God I could still move my lips in song and gratitude.
