The Siren Blares

And you realize you might not be as brave as you thought. *Chapter 79*

At 5am this Sunday morning, the storm siren stationed at the local elementary school (that also happens to be in our backyard) sounded. It was, as you can imagine…alarming. Violent lightning strikes followed immediately by house-shaking thunder, this was a very bad storm. And when the rain suddenly stopped, we knew a tornado could be brewing.

I’ve always considered myself someone who responds well in emergency situations. As a senior in college, enrolled in a freshman science lab to earn the final credits I needed to graduate, we sat atop tall, spindly, offensively uncomfortable stools and learned about things I couldn’t recall if you paid me a million dollars to do so.

What do I remember? The day a little baby freshman fell from her horrible stool and crashed to the ground in the middle of a seizure. Classmates closest to her scattered, scared and unsure of what was happening. I, having witnessed my dad mid-seizure once before, rushed over to hold her head and make sure she didn’t hurt herself.

As a self-proclaimed ‘natural healer and doctor’, it was my duty to make sure she was alright. And she was. She woke up, stunned and confused and was taken to the university clinic. My proudest moment came when my fellow students asked me with admiration, “are you pre-med??” and I said, “no, I’m a Drama major.”

New York Minute, by Bonnie Lynn Felton, lynnfelton.com

Obviously, 20+ years later, I am still reveling in the residue of my heroism. So picture my surprise that in the chaos a 1960s air raid horn blasting into the wee morning hours, my response was to worriedly shuffle from window to window. Arguably, THE LAST thing one should do in the midst of a tornado ready to pulverize every pane of glass in your home.

“What should we do??” My insides were quivering in exactly the same way my terrier shivers with fright at loud noises.

Alan was calmly putting on pants as the siren died down and the rain came back. “I think it’s passed.”

I sat on the edge of the bed and tuned into the local news via Google. Channel 11 Alive Atlanta. When we’d head to the basement during a storm as kids, mom would always turn it on to watch the meteorologist tell us when it was safe to return to our beds. She’d recount the days when she worked for the outlet creating graphics for on-air stories. Staring at it on a tiny screen, in the pitch black of morning, in my own home, with my half-dressed boyfriend, was utterly nostalgic and bizarre.

“Where’s my mouth guard?” Apparently in my panic I’d taken it out somewhere between windows. I watched thick streaks of lightning flash between clouds as we fell back asleep for a few more hours. My unprotected teeth the last thing on my mind as the adrenaline started to wear off.

My dad has saved three humans and a dog¹ through various combinations of the Heimlich maneuver and CPR. As I’ve inherited his long face, bone structure and identical dental record, I’ve always fancied myself someone who could save lives too. Joking regularly that I could have been a doctor if it didn’t require spending half of my life in school, last night’s alarm has me thinking differently. All I could muster was, “tell me what to do!!”

I remember a similar feeling gazing out a 30-story window somewhere in the theatre district of New York City, March 11, 2020. My best friend, Evan, had a reading of his beautiful play scheduled for this particular afternoon and we watched, in horror, as the Broadway actors involved, lost their jobs one by one in front of us. I just kept thinking, “who is going to tell us what to do?”

It’s scary out there. Honestly, it takes incredible bravery just to walk out of your house everyday and so many of us do it without even a second thought. Not one person reading this needs me to remind them of the horrible things waiting to jump out from around every corner these days.

That I’ve seen so many people writing and talking about their allegiance to the protection of their joy is a comfort that knows no description.

Every morning I’ve made it a point to take at least a few minutes to touch base with the part of me that knows peace. The corner of myself that is never afraid and that only feels love and bliss. So much of me wishes we could all exist here for infinity but then a freaking siren screams and I remember I am only human.

My insides continued to tremble as I dozed this morning, leftover panic still dissipating through my body. In many ways, it’s a similar feeling to the years long comedown post pandemic. The farther we’ve gotten away, the less threatening it feels. Possibly the fright has been replaced by the horrors I mentioned earlier, who am I to say?

Finding out that I might not be as brave and blissful as I’d like to think is a sharp pinch to the ego. “Oh so you meditate every morning??” Big deal, here’s a tornado, deal with it. Historically, the moment I think I’ve really figured something out is the moment the Universe says, “prove it.” I’ve gotten much better at lightning up and feeling grateful for the opportunities to display humility that are regularly gifted to me.

Do I hope I can remain calm in the storm? Yes. Do I long for the chance to demonstrate it? No. Lately, it’s the constant practice of asking myself how I actually feel. If I’m scared, what’s coming up? Sad, what part of me despairs? A habitual questioning of Self and a steady reminder of intention; To vibe at my highest frequency as often as possible.

This morning we slept until 9:30 which isn’t that late but when 7am is normal, feels indulgent. I found my mouth guard sitting on the dresser across the room, no memory of ever removing it in my panic-blackout. We decided next time to head to the basement level laundry room or at least the inner hallway of our 100 year old house where we live in a top floor apartment. Alas, it’s easy to make a plan when it’s peaceful. It’s finding out how you’ll execute when the siren blares that’s the real test.

Here’s to your courage.

MAKING

Bashfully, I present to you the ostrich feather brooch I crafted myself after swooning over several I saw fashion influencers sporting.

BAKING

There wasn’t a chance I’d let Valentine’s Day pass without baking a thousand cookies and I, of course, used the very best sugar cookie recipe of all time from my favorite baking source, Sally’s Baking Addiction.

WATCHING

I’m sort of constantly in a rewatch of Sex and the City but it has inevitably drawn me in again and reminded me how many pieces of myself exist because of the damn show. Whether that is good or bad, I don’t know, but I’m over here crafting brooches and stalking giant fake flowers to hot-glue safety pins to like I did circa 2004 when I first became obsessed.

I’m sad to say that it looks like the storm did rip up some trees but I don’t think any tornadoes actually touched down. Weather is scary.

I hope you had a love filled Valentine’s Day and are ecstatic that every week we inch closer to Spring!!

I am sending you all my love and gratitude and look forward to talking to you again soon!

1. Our absolute ding dong of a golden retriever aptly named, Delbert, inhaled his food with such veracity that he choked. Dad performed the Heimlich in the back of the Tahoe mom was racing to the vet. Stuff of legends.