One evening this November, a Bomb Cyclone - an unusual weather pattern, passed through our area. Very concentrated high-wind blasts swept through like a bomb went off. There was a storm warning, and we thought we were prepared.

When our power went out, we went to bed early, thinking life would resume the next day. However, the next morning, we were still without power, heat, internet, or cell phone service. Our car was stuck in the garage, and even if we had opened the door, fallen trees blocked the roads in our area.

We stuck it out for a couple of days, with no heat but plenty of blankets and no lights except battery-powered. There was no way to call anyone and no internet, but our power bank lasted a couple of days. We walked our neighborhood to survey the gigantic fallen trees, roots exposed to the sky.

Our cell service resumed on day three, bringing news that the power outage affected over 600,000 homes and that fallen trees in the mountains had damaged the main power cables to our area. Our area was one of the hardest hit in the city and one of the last to get power, resulting in a week-long power outage.

With our cell phones working again, we called our family, and our son came and got us. It was a thrilling escape from the cold—no working stoplights, downed trees, broken fences, blocked roads, and debris everywhere.

This contrasted deeply with our experience once we were out of our area—everything was normal as if nothing had happened. We stayed in a hotel for the rest of the week and were grateful for the warmth and hot showers.

We were only stranded without power or heat for a couple of days, but what a shock to the system—and exhausting. Although we thought we were prepared, we know now that we cannot be prepared for how it feels when systems fail. We never know when life can rapidly turn into a crisis.

It was an interesting experience to go through this adventure. On the one hand, there were not a lot of mental stories. I was comfortable with waiting and watching what life would bring us. There was the grace of being relaxed within, knowing my frequency, and being comfortable within myself. There wasn't any mental anxiety or attempts to control or direct the situation. It was what it was, and I was okay. That was enough to 'know'. 

Thinking back to who I was 20 years ago, I would have been trying to fix things, angry and frustrated with not being in control of the situation. I can see the difference that waiting and responding have made in my life. I know who I am in a felt sense of awareness. Loving myself is no longer a platitude or ideal, it is the breath and heartbeat of who I am..

My body went through quite a shock, though. Adapting to survival in cold and dark conditions took a lot of energy! My body needed a lot of rest, and I relaxed into the rhythm shift without judgment.

Adapting to uncertainty and a shake-up in routine felt okay; my emotional equilibrium felt balanced. There was delight in the creative process, joy in sitting by the window with light coming in, and savoring salad with Dharmen by twinkle lights. It was good to see that despite a crisis experience, there was a felt sense of enjoyment of the moment and the spaceousness that comes with it. 

Human Design is not going to stop the changes that life is bringing. Crises will still happen. What was interesting to me was seeing that I have naturally changed how I deal with crises. I can let it be and still be me.

Loving myself deeply allows me to stay within myself - observing, waiting, and being relaxed within; rather than getting lost in my mind’s imaginings and stories. I see my truth now - that I’m ok no matter what - and that it’s not a story I’m telling myself but a visceral experience of loving myself. I’m so grateful.

Love Yourself - Graffiti in the Innocent Railway Tunnel, Edinburgh, Scotland. Photo by Agnes Renusz