Not Waiting for Earthquakes

(Dedicated to those who've died recently in East Asia.)

Let me invite you into my bed...so to speak.

I suspect many of you who live in earthquake prone areas will understand exactly what I am about to say; what it feels like to wake up a minute or two before an earthquake hits. You can sort of hear it coming. Not with your ears at first, but with your body. Then the sound seems to rise up into your ears and straining into your pillow, you can feel/hear the echos of The Deep roaring. It is a very strange sensation, and one that I'd become accustomed to while living in Japan (and growing up in Southern California). It is something you only really hear while you are in bed, not moving, with the whole world quiet and at seemingly at peace. When you are stripped of your protective mental devises and at your most vulnerable.

It makes living on the edge make sense. Make the only sense, in a way. But it also makes one edgy. You shake it off the minute you get up, but it stays in the body. Especially if you are "hearing" earthquakes four to five times a month.

My dorm bed is firm and comfy...but I've noticed on the mornings I wake up early--too early to rise, that I am waiting and listening hard for something. It was only recently I realized it was for earthquakes. But there is no subtle roaring from the pillow, from the mattress or the floor. It's nice, but it makes my heart ache for those having to deal with aftershocks and all the rest.

Ground that doesn't move under your feet. Can we start with that?

Oh to be a cat with nine lives, and with the flexibility and swiftness to jump from most any height and always land upright.

In the meantime, no more wasting time waiting for pillows to speak to me.