The Day Hurricane Katrina Opened the Door

August 29th 2005 is a day few will ever forget.
On that day, Hurricane Katrina ravaged New Orleans, creating mass destruction and widespread deaths. It was months before some of the bodies were found, and many families were relocated to other parts of the country without the opportunity to keep in contact with family members bused elsewhere.
Three years after that fateful day, some residents are still in dire need of help; yet, aside from groups of volunteers who have stepped in to bring some relief, and residents who have taken matters into their own hands, government aid has mostly focused on selected areas. In a video released on YouTube, http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dFUrCIm5LFc, former president Carter has exposed some of the areas of the Ninth Ward that have received little help, and has denounced our government for its lack of commitment to the people of New Orleans.
To make things worse, FEMA was recently under investigation for having withheld supplies that were donated in the aftermath of Katrina, while people were still in need.
Lack of response from our government, and the widespread blame game, have left people scratching their heads for answers.
Most of the people left without help were minorities and were some of the poorest. They were blamed for not having left the area during the mandatory evacuation, although some lacked the resources to make the move, or were unable to leave because of factors out of their control. Government agencies blamed one another; the Federal Government blamed the State for not taking prompt action; the State blamed the Federal Government for their lack of quick response. Everybody blamed the next person, yet, few were willing to accept individual responsibility. Although Katrina was, and still is, viewed as one of the worst events to ever hit New Orleans, it did indeed open a door of awareness. The socio-economic and racial implications unveiled hit the rest of our country with the cold slap of shame. Katrina exposed all that. We spend millions of dollars promoting events that will bridge our social and racial divides, yet in the face of a calamity, those bridges crumble as fast as the levees of New Orleans. Wounds must come to the light and cleansed, before they can heal. Katrina didn’t heal our separateness, but it certainly drew the map to show us the flaws we must all work on as a nation and as a people.
Coincidentally, the anniversary of this sad event is falling on the same week the Democratic Convention is taking place in Colorado.
Barack Obama appears to have a much wider vision; his message of unity and his peaceful policies have set him aside from the many politicians who seem more interested in promoting corporations, rather than caring for the genuine interest of our country. We pride ourselves with being the leading nation around the world, and fight other countries if they fall short on our scale of peace and justice. Yet, we are not able to achieve peace, unity and justice among our own people. In our country, the poorest minorities are still cut out of our aid budgets, and women can still die unattended in the waiting rooms of hospitals. These flaws considered, we have little room to flash our way of living as an example for others to follow.
Thanks, Katrina, for opening the door.

The Sea and the Butterfly

The view that awaited us when we arrived at our rental house in Carolina Beach, this past week, was beyond our expectations: Waves were madly crashing on shore, their white foam proudly painting the sand beneath them in a primal, rhythmic stroke, while small formations of seagulls and pelicans gracefully glided in the salty air, the brilliant colors of their plumage creating a stark contrast against the deep blue hue of the sky.
I was thrilled to get out of bed in the morning, and savor a bit more of the breathtaking scene. Coffee mug in one hand and a good novel in the other, I would sit on the deck until the rest of my family woke up. Some mornings I even got up early enough to see the newborn sun rise in the east.
A week later, it was time to leave our corner of Paradise and head back home.
This morning, when I shook myself from the delightful grip of slumber, I thought for a moment that I was still in Carolina Beach. Then, as the needle of reality quickly pierced through the cloth of consciousness, and I realized I was back home, my eagerness to get out of bed diminished by the minute. I wearily made my way down the stairs and peaked out through the glass pane of the front door, on my way to the kitchen to get coffee.
No sound of crashing waves this morning, no calls from seagulls, or children squealing on the beach; the only call I heard was that of my cat, indignantly meowing at the back door, waiting to be fed. Ditto for the visual: all I could see was my neighbor’s house, which, as beautiful and well maintained as it is, is certainly no match to a roaring ocean.
I took my coffee outside on the porch and sat on one of the rocking chairs, wishing I could turn back time. Then, I noticed two small birds sitting side by side on a tree branch, their colorful lemon feathers breaking the monotony of the green leaves; and I noticed a butterfly stopping on one of my flower pots. Suddenly, I realized the subtle beauty surrounding me. I took a sip of my coffee and smiled when my cat, tired of waiting by the back door, came around to the front porch and was now rubbing against my legs, purring softly. Maybe my quiet yard is not blessed with the raw charm of an ocean scene, but it is beautiful just the same.
I thought of all the beauty which surrounds us at all times, the beauty that we don’t notice.
Sadly, we have been programmed to think that beauty is something that we have to travel far to see, or something that has a price tag attached. We rarely notice that some of the most beautiful things are free and abundant, if only we are willing to see them.
True beauty is not in the engineered perfection of a plastic doll made in Hollywood; it is not only in the expensive flower bouquet we purchase at a florist’s fancy store.
True beauty is the smile of a stranger; is the wild flower growing on the side of the freeway; is the less-than-perfect art project of a child who worked as hard as he could to create a small masterpiece for his mother.
All we need to do is allow ourselves to open our eyes to the myriad of magnificent displays of beauty and perfection that subtly color our day from the sidelines.
As the soft fur of my cat gently tickles my feet, and the gentle breeze coming from the open window softly broadcasts the nocturnal song of the nearby woods, while I sit here writing, I know I am thrilled to be back home.

Hidden Blessings

“Two angels were traveling the country, occasionally seeking food and shelter during their journey. They stopped at an opulent mansion, and asked if they could have shelter for the night. The owner let them in, and told them they could make a bed on the floor in the cold basement. As they prepared to turn in, the older Angel noticed a hole in the wall and repaired it. The next day they left the mansion and continued their journey. They came upon a very poor farm, and once again they asked for shelter. The farmer and his wife shared the little food they had, and offered their bed so the tired strangers could sleep comfortably. Early after the sun had risen, the two Angels were awakened by the farmer and his wife weeping. Their only cow, whose milk was their sole wealth, had died during the night. The younger Angel became angry, and asked the older spirit why he would help a rich man by fixing his wall but would let this poor man’s cow die. The older Angel replied: “Things aren’t always as they seem. When we were down in the basement, I saw gold hidden behind the wall, so I patched the hole to hide the fortune away from the greedy owner. Last night, while we were sleeping, I saw the Angel of Death coming for the farmer’s wife. I asked him to take the cow instead.”

When anything unpleasant occurs, it is always very difficult to see the hidden blessings.
The people whose alarms didn’t work - or whose cars broke down - the morning of 9/11, were probably very angry, and didn’t realize their fortune until they heard what happened.
Most often the hidden blessings are something that we will never even recognize for what they are. We may misplace our car keys and spend thirty minutes looking for them. Meanwhile, thanks to that delay we might have missed getting into a traffic accident.
We may be upset because we haven’t been hired for a job position we wanted; yet, if we had, we might have missed a better opportunity that was right around the corner.
As all gifts, blessings come in many packages. Some are very obvious and colorful, while some others are so subtle that we don't even recognize them for what they are.
Each moment in our lives is a perfect moment, whether we do or don’t realize its value. Through our experiences we grow, learn, become better people; for some, the most meaningful gifts have come from the difficult moments they have survived.
As we are reminded by the older Angel, things aren’t always as they seem. Even the worst tragedy may hold the seed of our greatest blessing.

Pointing Fingers: Is John Edwards' affair truly important?

On August 8th 2008 at least fifteen people died in a fatal bus crash, as they were traveling from Houston to Missouri. http://www.newsobserver.com/nation_world/story/1170448.html
On the same day, Russia launched an aerial assault and sent troops into Georgia http://www.mcclatchydc.com/227/story/47016.html, and new evidence surfaced about some of our Washington vineyards being turned into pot farms http://www.newsobserver.com/2188/story/1170628.html.
Yet, on August 8th, the eyes of our Nation - and those of the rest of the world - were focused on John Edwards’ marital indiscretion. As I surfed through the channels I couldn’t help shaking my head. In the aftermath of more important events, every primetime news channel was feasting on the dirty details of John Edwards’ affair, hoping to dig deeper than the competition.
Personally, I think that as long as he was honest with his wife about the tryst with Rielle Hunter, he owes nobody else any kind of explanation. I think that if he is still married to the same woman after thirty years, and together they have survived raising four children and endured the death of one, few people are in the position of judging the integrity and strength of their marriage and family. Since he wasn’t in office during the affair, there was no reason for him to announce such a painful situation to the rest of the world, and his public silence only protected his wife and family from the indignity they are suffering right now. What happened between John Edwards and his wife should remain between them, and dealt with within the boundaries of their individual acceptance. As for the rest of the world, I think we have more pressing issues to be concerned about.
Why are we so ready to jump into other people’s private affairs and elevate them in the list of our Nation’s priorities? Truth is everyone likes to point fingers. More than anything, undermining someone in the spotlight makes us feel better about ourselves and our own shortcomings. We have become so shallow and filled with self-righteousness that we salivate at the mere opportunity of proving someone else’s lack of integrity; we saturate media and other networking channels with empty news, rather than using these same channels to raise awareness on what is truly important. Thousands of children can die or become orphans in Indonesia, but we are more interested in the birthday celebration of Tom Cruise’s two-year-old daughter.
If we truly hope to change our country and redeem ourselves as a people, it is time we rethink the way we prioritize. I hope Britney Spears will find her light and Angelina Jolie’s twins will continue to prosper; and to those who feel that they have never made any mistakes, I would like to invite them to run for office.
I also would like to remind them that when we point one finger, three of them are still pointed back toward ourselves. Ahem...that is something to think about.

The Gift of Now

In “Journey to Ixtlan", Carlos Castaneda writes about the Angel of Death as being always present near one’s left shoulder. If one turns fast enough, Castaneda writes, it is possible to catch a glimpse of the Angel, and remember to live every moment fully because it could be our last.
This past week, my friend Connie had a chance to come face to face with her own mortality. After becoming very ill because of an untreated kidney infection, she was taken to the hospital, and immediately admitted. For a few days, her doctors struggled to keep the infection under control, and her condition seemed to deteriorate by the minute.
Saying that Connie was terrified is a serious understatement. She knew her body was shutting down, and everything she had taken for granted was quickly spiraling out of control. Connie thought she was going to die.
When I spoke with her, the first words out of her mouth were about her children. She was afraid of how they would cope if something happened to her, and also realized how much she missed simply having them around. She talked of the times she got angry with them over trivial things, when she could have instead told them how much she loved them.
Having three children myself, I totally understand the frustrations of parenting. Yet, Connie’s ordeal seriously made me think.
What if something was to happen to me, and I wasn’t able to connect to all the people I love or respect before leaving this earthly plane? Would they know how much I care about them? If I was to die tomorrow, would it really matter that my three-year-old daughter flooded the bathroom today, or that my husband didn’t throw his dirty socks in the hamper this morning?
We spend such a large portion of our lives worrying about things that don’t matter, that we lose focus of what is truly important. We hold grudges against people we love over unimportant matters, and never think that we may not have another chance to make amends.
After talking to Connie, I thought about my own family, my children, my parents who live far away. I realized that many times I hang up the phone without telling my husband that I love him, I choose housework over going to the park with my children, I forget to call my parents and friends because I am too busy. I never think that those simple actions could be the last chance I have to let them know how I feel. If something suddenly happened to me – or them – those perfect opportunities would be lost forever.
We are programmed to allow life's circumstances to take over, to focus on making the next dollar as if it is the last chance we have to become rich, and we forget that it is up to us to appreciate each moment and the subtle blessings that surround us at all times. The dishes will still be there the next day, and the paperwork will be waiting for us when we get back, but will our loved ones be there tomorrow? Or even later today?
Each moment of our lives that is not fully appreciated is a moment we have wasted; it's a gift we have not accepted; it's an opportunity that may be lost forever.