Real life

It’s been a strange week.

I’m a fifth-generation Floridian. I know hurricanes. I know (and was reminded again) what a difference a generator makes. I know that suddenly you’re eyeing those gorgeous live oaks in your yard skeptically, considering for the first time that they could wreck your life.

And before I go any farther, I want to acknowledge that being without power for a few days is nothing when your house is still standing and so are all your family members. The loss of life and homes in the Virgin Islands, the Florida Keys and Houston and its suburbs is horrific. Not all of them had the opportunity to evacuate. Those who couldn’t were left to the storms’ mercy, which there is none. My prayers and money are going out to those who survived the unspeakable, only to face hell on earth once the storm passed. PLEASE give generously. (But don’t send your old prom dresses and used underwear. Seriously. Find out what they NEED.)

Having said that and knowing full well how fortunate I am, the difference in my days pre-hurricane and immediately post-hurricane is so shocking, I’m still pondering it.

The best way I can describe it is taking the red pill in the Matrix (instead of the blue pill, which has an irresistible draw). Like having a virtual reality headset on for so long that you forget what’s real, and then are forced to take it off and see life for what it really is.

It was almost a shock to the senses. My life was suddenly in high definition. Real. Gritty. Requiring work. Patience. Ingenuity. Creativity. Focus.

Time seemed to stop. The world gave us a pass. Our jobs were suddenly not a priority. The calendar was cleared. Every plan I had for this past week was canceled and suddenly, there was room for the REAL stuff. The stuff that matters. The stuff I always want to have more time for.

I’m not trying to sound enlightened or like I have it all figured out. If anything, Irma taught me exactly how LITTLE I know for sure. It affected each of us differently. Just sharing how it affected me.

But for me, living behind screens all day had created a strange disconnect from ‘real life.’ As if I were watching my life on TV. But during the past several days, I have lived my life hard. Been fully present. And my previously fluid priorities became concrete and tangible.

Relationships flourished.

My children came out of their rooms and became active participants in the family mission. There was more conversation, more teamwork, more memories made in a very concentrated period of time.

Friends (some I haven’t talked to in years) from all over the country sent texts, emails and Facebook messages, offering refuge and checking on my safety.

Neighbors I have never met wandered over, introduced themselves, asked if we needed anything. I found out there’s a girl right across the street who would make a great friend for Caroline, and her mom possibly a great friend for me.

Friends just showed up for a visit, like generations before. No calling ahead. No setting up plans via text. Just showed up to check in and hang out. People who came to drop something off or pick something up came in for a Coke and conversation.

My husband and I shared more high fives in the past few days than we have our entire marriage. While we do spend plenty of time together, rarely are we working shoulder-to-shoulder to accomplish a task. The high fives and sweaty kisses reminded me that we are a team. And a pretty good one at that.

And as power began to return to our neighborhoods, friends immediately invited us to their houses for a hot shower, a home-cooked meal and air conditioning. The same invitations popped up on Facebook: We have power! If anybody needs to get a shower or charge their phone, come on over! And people did! Let down their guard, embraced their current state of vulnerability and let someone help.

Generators were being offered and lent out to those still without power. Neighborhoods came together to borrow yard tools, chainsaws and help clear the yards of those who needed help.

Life required manual labor.

Just last week, Brad and I had watched Gone with the Wind (probably my all-time favorite movie that I could easily recite). Post-war in the South, Scarlett’s sisters were picking cotton when Suellen began to complain.

“Look at my hands! Mother said you could always tell a lady by her hands.”

Carreen gazed off remembering those days then said, “I guess things like hands and ladies don’t matter so much anymore.”

I was using my hands constantly. Scrubbing the oil stain on the driveway. Helping my family clear the yard of branches, hacking the larger ones into pieces with a machete. (How is it that we own a machete and not a rake?) Helping refill the generator. Hand washing all the dishes while Caroline dutifully dried. Painstakingly writing with a pen and paper instead of typing my 50 words per minute on the computer.

The bougainvillea bush was a beast to dismantle. Vines all wrapped around each other, each branch fraught with thorns, which Beau and I discovered the hard way. Unwilling to let the ornery plant win, I ended up covered in pretty deep scratches on my arms and legs and hands. (Couldn’t find my gardening gloves.)

I finished several books this week, remembering how much I love to read. Holding the book and turning the pages instead of scrolling up. It felt like home.

I reveled in the novelty of it all, being the tactile person that I am. I’m sure it wouldn’t be so romantic if it were a daily thing. But it was nice to know that when needed, I could tear my hands to pieces to take care of my home and family.

I realized I had let all the screens in my life put an aloof lens between myself and my life. And while I yearned for the power to come back on, I realized how much I enjoyed LIVING my life, instead of just watching it.

I desperately wanted the air conditioning back, but promised myself I would remember what real life felt like and that I wanted to pursue that, even when all the comforts of electricity returned.

And sure enough, the kids have returned to their rooms with their tablets, video games and phones. The yardmen showed up and finished the job we started. The pool guy had our pool looking good as new in a matter of minutes. (And sternly lectured us on NOT storing the pool chairs in the pool for the hurricane. Apparently the chairs are covered in bacteria and he had to shock the pool to make it safe to swim in. Who knew?)

But yesterday, I blew off work that had piled up to invite a young family over who was still without power. We swam, ate PBJs, watched a movie. Something we had been trying to plan for a long time.

I’ve read all the articles about how all of our screens are rewiring our brains and I honestly had been more worried about the kids. We’ve taken steps in recent days to help moderate that. I also dug up my old clock radio, using it as an alarm clock instead of my phone to avoid the temptation of wasting 30 minutes looking at Facebook before starting my day.

And I LOVE Facebook. In many ways, it’s helped me stay MORE connected to MORE people. I get to watch my out-of-town friends’ kids grow up without having to wait for the yearly Christmas card.

Yet I realize that I can slip into WATCHING my life instead of living it without even noticing. And it was a fascinating revelation. Most of my clients are feeling the same unnamed frustration. Going through the motions of life, not really feeling ALIVE. We know deep down when we’re not living the life we were created to live. But it’s hard to know what steps to take to change that.

But now I’ll know what to look for. Are my relationships real or virtual? Virtual is necessary at times, but I need to make sure the majority of my time with friends is face time (not FaceTime). Am I spending enough time outside? Am I getting my hands dirty? Hands are not meant to be protected and prized. They’re to be used and used UP as the hands and feet of Jesus.

I’m so thankful that our power is back on. And I’m also thankful for the brief 48-hour reminder of what life is supposed to look like.

Too bad it took a natural disaster for me to see it.