Saturday, October 14, 2006
I have a common affliction. I like to be in control of my life. The energy of love, however, has other ideas. When ever the energy of love shows up in a life, everything that is not love is destined to be purged. The larger the influx of love, the larger the purge of all that stands in its way. Love is an energy that will not be denied. It seeks to remove all thoughts, out-moded ideas, fears and denials that would prevent its total reign. Sometimes, when love moves in, the purging can be difficult and seemingly disastrous. Control is not an option. Shattering is in the forecast.
Perhaps because of my Dalai Lama experience, my forthcoming promotion at work, my 20 hour hands-on healing seminar, and my 3 recent lessons in the romance language of Italian, given by a blue-eyed Sicilian professor, the purge of all that isn't love within me has been difficult. Even disastrous.
It began Thursday October 12th, late in the afternoon, with big, fat, unforecast snowflakes. I was caught without my snowbrush in my car for the drive home from work. Later in the evening, I heard a giant popping sound, a rumble and a crash. I looked out my window to see bigger, fatter snowflakes and a limb from the tree next to the house lying in the driveway. Thunder and lightning filled the sky. I thought to myself, " my life as I know it is breaking apart". The popping and rumbling and crashing escalated as the leaf-laden trees all around my neighborhood began to buckle under the weight of the heavy snow.
The popping sound was devastating. It forced fear up from the depths of my being. The power went out at midnight. I lay in bed with my clothes on, thinking the tree outside my window would come crashing through the roof before the night was over. By 1 am, the popping and rumbling led to structural limbs crashing into my house, rocking it to its foundation with each blow. I mark the hours between 1 am and 5 am as among the most lonely of my life. Love's insistent purging almost overwhelmed me.
Dragging myself out of bed on Friday the 13th led to waves of sorrow. The view out my window was crushing. Every tree in my neighborhood was damaged. Wrecked. Split. Shattered. Trees that had survived 80 to 100 years had met their match in the earliest snowstorm Buffalo has ever seen. In my driveway was 2 feet of the heaviest,wettest snow imaginable burying the wreckage of trees.
Being unable to dig myself out, I walked around the Village of Akron with my camera. I felt as heavy as the limbs beneath the snow. I had an inner storm whirling that matched the one that passed in the night. It felt as if every blockage to love left unaddressed was forcing its way out of my cells. I felt trapped, helpless, turned upside down. My empathy for the plight of the trees kept me in tears.
Phone calls with friends and loved ones, checking up on each other, helped bring me out of my inner storm. The temperature began to rise and the 2 feet of snow compacted. My girlfriend and her kids picked me up for a 20 mile drive to find a warm dinner. And miracle of miracles, the Village of Akron (one of the few townships to own its own electric company) had the power up and running only 18 hours after it went down.
Today, October 14th, found me returning to love. The snow was rapidly melting, the trees limbs were dragged to the curb, my car was freed and my house was warm. And so it's time to share the love and the warmth with those whose power is still out. My friend Kat and her daughter Violet came for hot showers and tea today, along with homemade brownies. I invited them to stay the night. And likely longer. Hundreds of thousands of people all over Buffalo remain without power and are forecast to be in the cold and dark for up to 1 week. My home is small, but my love has grown bigger. My heart and my heaters will warm any and all who need love amidst the shattering.