Post Irene (Thanks and Prayers and a Tiny Rant)

This post-storm Monday leaves so much to be thankful for.

The most important thing (selfishly) I'm grateful for is Hurricane Irene became Tropical Storm Irene before crossing the border of my state.  And the damage, comparatively, has been slight and negligible.  I think this is due to the wonder of modern technology, the weakening of the storm, and the fact that New England (while not known for hurricanes) has certainly seen it's share of Northeasters, blizzards, and yes even tropical storms.  Our communities and government are used to bracing for and cleaning up after destructive weather.  Our citizens are hearty.   So mostly, we survived.

Thats not to say there is no damage.  Thousands of people are without power (thank goodness the local library is not!) and extensive repairs are necessary on homes and properties through out the state.  Schools canceled their first day in some areas, and there are many injured.  Our power company & fire departments have a very full plate. . .  I pray for the safety of all the workers out there.

I've heard more than one person complain that Irene weakening was "disappointing."  This sentiment frustrates and upsets me.  35 people (the last I'd heard) are dead.  35 people - and several of them were very young children.  While being without power is a very first-world-problem, some of those without power are elderly.  Or disabled.  Or the mothers of very young children.  Or ill.  Etc etc etc.

The United States as a whole is in terrible, shaky financial condition.  The cost of flooding, down power lines, road damages, fires, and other by products of natural disaster are astronomical.  If you are disappointed a tree didn't fall on your house, please remember it fell on an eleven year old boys.  He died.  If you wish you'd seen more rain, look at the states whose streets are flooded, where main street businesses may have to be shuttered for good because their owners can't afford repairs.  If the power only flickered, or was out a few hours, and you wish for more of an adventure, go help at a local shelter, or check on an elderly neighbor.

I enjoy a good storm as much as the next person - thunder has always excited and not frightened me.  But when a storm ravished an entire coast line, causes mass evacuations, and takes many lives (granted, some of those lives WERE foolishly endangered) I think it is wiser to be grateful it wasn't worse, rather than sigh over a lack of drama.

 

Weekly Gratitude 8/5

Ok.  I'll be honest (not that I could hide it, I mean everything is archived after all).  This is much more a "gratitude of the month."  Woops!  So here is a list of those things I am most grateful for this week - and over the past month!

-I am grateful for this new month.

-Thank you for the chance to be a positive influence on my Camp kids.  Some of them are happy, healthy, loved, energetic, clean, smiling.  Others coolly inform me their parents are only bringing them because they're sick of them.  Some come with healthy, filling lunches and bright waterbottles.  Others come with Little Debbies Treats and Capri Sun pouches (and I'm not talking for snack or dessert folks.  I'm talking for their lunch).  I'm grateful for the chance to run, play, nourish, and explore with them.

-I'm grateful for employment.

-Thank you for friends who I never miss a beat with, no matter the gap between speaking.  For friends who understand, and never kick me when I'm down.  For loyal and loving and funny people to fill my days with.

-I'm grateful for finally getting to see Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Part 2 this week.  I cried from the WB logo virtually to King's Cross.  In more ways than I can fully explain, and cliche as it may be, Harry Potter was a huge part of my childhood.  Mischief Managed, friends.

-Thank you for a Boyfriend who not only went with me to see HP7P2 (and for someone who never truly got into the books, going with a, erm, "fan" like me is a less than thrilling prospect) but buying the ticket and patting my back when the tears started to fall and not laughing once the lights went up on my splotchy face.

-Thank you for the chance to write a post for my friend's (much bigger, and very popular) blog!  More on that soon!

-I'm grateful that somehow, by the skin of my teeth and my mom's sacrifice, I'll be scrapping my way into affording this semester.

Woah.

I've only been here one week?  Not half the semester?  Not six years?  Not even, well. . . it hasn't even been seven days, has it?  Holy cow.  In the past week I've been withdrawn from, added to, withdrawn from again and REadmitted to Pointe & Partnering.  I have been in three different History classes . . . only one of them the one I signed up for.  I moved from Anatomy for Dancers to Anatomy & Physiology 1.  Which means I now only have Anatomy once a week. . . for four hours. . . starting at six at night. . . not coming back to my dorm until 10:30ish. . . I was moved up a level in ballet (yay! yipee!  woohoo!  six out of seven! yes! i don't totally suck!)  I have met with both of my bosses twice.  I filled out a scary looking tax form that made me realize being a grown up (even in pseudo form) is terrifying.

(basically my face all week/weekend)

I tore through my ballet slippers.  I realized in order to take Pointe and pass, I'd need to be able to afford Pointe shoes.  Dang.  I met a freshmen who I used to dance with.  I started rehearsals.  I've been in three dance department meetings.  I joined a Greek Chorus for the play Medea.  I've iced.  I've held someone's hair while they threw up.  I told a rude freshmen EXACTLY what I thought of his, erm, advances.  I got dressed up and went out.

I felt the heavy strain long distance puts on a relationship.  The way the miles tear at the fibers of the heart as it stretches to cover the distance.  The way doubts slide in like a knife into a sheath, smooth and natural and sharp.

I've given thanks that the person I love and the network that supports us is stronger than the miles are long and steadier than doubts are sharp.

It has been a long first week.  And there have been a couple times when the stress and the pain in my shoulder and the emotions felt overwhelming. . . but in the end, this is who I am.  This is where I flourish, where I'm meant to be.  Dancing, every day.  Working, learning, striving, creating.  I'm most alive when I dance.  I'm a better person because here, in this world, there are people that rely on me.  Count on me.  I have to rise to that.  I never know my own heart better than when it is stretched out before me to see.

Every stressful day after too little sleep and with too much to do, I wake up and thank God for it.

To dance.
To serve the Lord.
To create.
To love a good man, and be loved in return.
To touch someone's heart.

This is what I ask for. . . and in every day of this past crazy week, this is what I've received.  Life is crazy tiring stressful awe inspiring scary  Good.