Earth power

Photo courtesy of Google images

Perhaps for those who live in California or around the Pacific, where seismic activity is a normal occurrence, the reaction to yesterday's earthquake in Virginia is a little on the ridiculous side. Several friends from that side of the continent scoffed at the level of news coverage from national media outlets, and I found myself rolling my eyes a bit when I realized that an unusual quake in Colorado at a similar magnitude received barely any coverage at all. Since it was the first earthquake that I could feel in any measurable way, however, I wouldn't be truthful if I didn't admit that I was jumpy and excitable after feeling the earth move beneath my feet. Once I learned that damage was minimal, I was ready to celebrate with an earthquake party, but it seems that other East Coasters were more ready to hunker down and await the Second Coming. ~sigh~

I'll be respectful of the views of others and not mock believers the way the West Coast has mocked all of us on this side of the country. Instead, I am meditating on the power that I felt rippling through the ground beneath me, shaking the house to a rattling, causing people to stop in their tracks or run outside to confer with the neighbors. My own neighbor told me of an earthquake she experienced on her grandparents' farm many years ago, when the main indicator that something wasn't right from her place in the field was the swaying of a power line when there wasn't a breath of breeze. The sense of something greater at work gave me cold chills.

Whether we take it for granted or not, the power of the earth that builds up and releases in a shudder across the land is an amazing thing. Our earth is an amazing structure that allows us to live on its surface. We shouldn't take for granted how tenuous our lives could be if that system should become unbalanced.

I find myself unbalanced by yesterday's excitement. The shock of the unusual shook me out of my complacency, but now I feel the need to develop a new equilibrium, at least until the next event ripples through me again.