Fear

My phone rang at 1:01am two nights ago. I picked up to the sound of my boss's voice saying, "Hey Allie! Welcome to your first middle of the night phone call. Now, get to the basement and take everyone you can find with you. The sirens you should be hearing mean a tornado has been sighted." Immediately I was overwhelmed with a desire to run out into the storm, get soaked by the rain, and feel the wind thrash my hair. At any other time in my life, that is exactly what I would have done. Instead I attempted to drag Zach out of bed (he refused), so I went by myself to the main stairwell and found a huddled mass of people, for whom I unlocked the basement door.

During elementary school, I remember having tsunami and volcano drills but never ones for tornadoes. I guess the ocean and the mountains in Oregon are more of a threat than the wind. During the worst lightning storm of my life, my dad drove us to the top of a butte near our house because he thought the radio tower on top would get struck and it would be a crazy sight to see. I remember getting bashed side-to-side (as we drove up the rocky side of that mountain in what was clearly more of a river than a road) and trying desperately not to touch anything metal. I felt pretty sure we might die. Of course we didn't and that storm was one of the most beautiful/exciting things I've ever seen.

I'm not big on fear. In my opinion, it's a detriment to the quality of ones life. I don't want to walk around not doing things or not saying things because I'm afraid. Did you know, in the time period of eight years, the nation's murder rate decreased by 20% but the number of murders covered by network newscasts increased by 600% (The Culture of Fear by:Barry Glassner). Fear sells! Tragedy captivates! Why are we so easily enchanted by the "truth" the media spikes our drinks with?

True; tornadoes are dangerous. Also true is the fact that tornadoes are fascinating, beautiful, exciting, and awe-inspiring. A person can tippy toe through life, focused on self-preservation and fending of possible tragedies, or you can enjoy the storm. You only get so many days and I would rather spend mine any place other than huddled on a basement floor. Maybe this is foolish but I'll own it either way.

I am not completely fearless, despite all my statements to the contrary. A fear I thought I had eliminated last summer has bubbled to the surface again. A few times I've stepped just inside the door to the basement. Other times I've stood at the window, watching the wind and rain. I haven't quite been able to throw myself into the storm and face my fear. Hopefully I will someday soon...

First few days in Kirksville

Hardly fifteen days and Kirksville already feels like home. Hours and whole days rush by like drops in an ever flowing river. I am here. The present moment has grown larger than life. It fills the landscape from the far reaches of my peripheral vision on both sides.

This place is thick with Amish friendship bread and sunny bike-riding days. The people I work with smile easy and listen well. Every day feels like a warm hug. The wind blows softball games and Saturday markets into my life and likes to whisper, "This is it!", while I smile.

On the fourth of July, Zach and I bought a bunch of seeds, pots, soil, and fertilizer. He planted lavender, spearmint, lettuce, spinach, and cilantro. I planted sunflowers. Our sun-filled patio plays perfect host to the army of fledgling sprouts that have burst up from the soil. My sunflowers tower three inches above all the others. Today I had to transplant them to bigger pots because they were blocking the sun to all of Zach's plants! Even though long-term we plan to live in Central America and live a fairly non-traditional life, Zach and I (for the present moment) have willingly succumbed to domestic happiness.