Preparedness
I felt the shake from a 5.8 magnitude earthquake on Tuesday; this weekend I’ll face the unknown wrath of category 3, Hurricane Irene. These summer surprises from Mother Nature plus other strange emotional and physical events in my life (and the lives of my friends) got me thinking; thinking about anticipation, unreadiness but more so; preparedness.
How, why and when do we brace ourselves? We’re all susceptible to the same environmental events as our neighbors, and relatively similar physical, emotional and mental events as we move through life; what makes us act in advance or react differently? I’m young, and thankfully haven’t lived through too many major physical, emotional or mental events to have my life clouded by them. I do notice ways the most impactful ‘disasters’ (mostly emotional) I’ve lived through have stayed with me. Like little strings around certain neurons in my brain that, when provoked, remind me how and why to beware. The new learned way to prepare myself.
Maybe this is why different generations prepare and anticipate differently. A few years ago, I felt more passive to what might come my way; I had less strings on my neurons. As uncertainties roll my way now, I feel more effected. Or maybe it has less to do with the ‘strings’ or experiences, and more to do with stronger financial, personal and emotional responsibilities. As if I suddenly have more of an option to control (some, not all) outcomes in my life; or at least more to lose.
I think about my mom, and how she decided five to ten years ago that she had been through too many power outages, snowstorms, and miscellaneous worry provoking situations (looking at you, Y2K) to take the inevitable lightly. My parent’s basement has since been stocked with jugs of emergency drinking water, canned goods, batteries, flashlights and a crank radio. But we weren’t always prepared like that. I’m thinking about my papa, who as a 40-year-old man at the start of the Cold War dug out a bomb shelter in his metro-Detroit home with my Uncle Don. (The other side of the strange heavy door in their basement lined with spider webbed bunks and stacks of canned goods from the 1950’s. A time capsule of worry.) My other grandparents, however, were bomb shelter-less. Possibly because they were in their mid-20’s at the time.
Did my papa feel more capable to take action, as a strong man with an able son? Did he feel he had more at risk to lose? Did he worry more? It’s true what an adult can do, a child often doesn’t know or care to do; what a homeowner is capable of, an apartment renter may not be. But even the biggest worriers don’t necessarily take action.
I’ve noticed the more I prepare myself for the predictable, the more effected I feel by the unpredictable. Maybe each time I stood up empty handed and weathered the storm; I was actually training myself to be patient, easy going and passive. My life and schedule, as a college student, was much more susceptible to change. I was getting really good at rolling with the punches. Now, as I’ve subconsciously settled into more of a controlled routine, I feel more fragile to the obscure, uncalculated events of life. Is there a correlation between our control in the face of predictability and the level of impact we feel after the unpredictable? I don’t know that I necessarily worry more than before, but take a little bit more of an interest (is this curiosity a gateway to worry?) in preparations. I suppose just as my relatives have, I too am recognizing my capability and feeling more responsible for what I have to lose.