Helene lives in us all.
Anniversaries can be challenging when they are not celebratory. As we near the one year anniversary of Hurricane Helene here in Western North Carolina, there are a plethora of feelings in the air. The grief, trauma, and fatigue are still very heavy, while the hope and resiliency are very much alive. There are so many events and options to honor these feelings and gather in community. I want to talk about what Helene has meant to me. It’s not clinical, but hopefully you get something out of it. Helene changed me, as it did all of us. I could write a whole book about it, but for the sake of this blog post, I’ll keep it short.
I look at relationships dramatically differently. I’ve always been someone who really valued relationships, putting a lot of time and effort into maintaining them. Who you keep close matters. Choose people who show up for you. Who hold you when you’re crying. Who see the real you, meet you where you are, can sift through your bullshit, all while holding your heart with care. Helene gave me a much stronger sense of discernment with relationships and also made my values and the values I look for in others much firmer. Community will be what saves us all. I’ve written about this before and probably will again. We can care for one another and accomplish much more together than we can alone. Community is inconvenient, however sometimes you need people to inconvenience themselves for you too. Vulnerability is a cornerstone of community. I can’t really put into words what it’s like to have neighbors you’ve never met open themselves to let you cry on their stoop while giving you a snack and a bottle of water during one of the most traumatic experiences of all our lives. The best I can do is explain it as one of the most human exchanges I’ve ever had. Grief demands to be witnessed. Helene is a collective grief that requires witnessing within the community. It’s also important to expand the definition of community to the land and all the beings that occupy it. The land and environment were, and still are, hurting from this. We must be excellent stewards of the land so that all plants and beings can thrive after this trauma. To conclude, Helene has cemented what already felt true to me. Get out of your own head, show up for others, allow yourself to be vulnerable so others can show up for you, and love the land and all those who inhabit it. Live your life with an open heart, full of love and empathy because at the end of the day, it’s all we really have.
Questions to ponder.
How well are you nurturing your community?
How does grief from Helene show up in your life? How can you give it space to be witnessed?
How are you caring for the land and all who occupy it?
