Earth shattering shake up
Permanence is an illusion - all we have is the joy we live today.
I was born and raised in Iowa, where corn and bean fields surrounded my home and the deep brown of the earth under my feet had provided for my ancestors for generations. In my hometown, the metaphor of earth being the foundation on which we build was literal.
The natural disasters that I grew up with could be heard and seen coming. Tornadoes are loud and are almost always preceded by green skies and hail. Like Dorothy in the Wizard of Oz, when the winds started to howl, we ran for the shelter inside the earth, knowing it would keep us safe.
When my husband and I moved to the San Francisco Bay area, this farm girl was terrified. I had seen pictures of the devastation that earlier quakes had caused and knew that there would be no warning. I was both fascinated and filled with dread. Three days after having moved into our new apartment, I experienced my first one at work.
Sitting at my desk in a small office, it felt like someone had slammed a door and my computer did a little hop. And that was it. I called my husband who informed me that since he hadn’t felt it (about 20 miles away), it wasn’t a “real” earthquake. It is important to note here that my husband grew up in Los Angeles. I celebrated being a “real” Californian and went on with life. There were a couple more just like that, always the sort that I questioned whether they were even real after the fact. But my fear never really went away until we moved back to Denver in 2015.
Fast forward to 2023, and once again, we headed back to California, this time further north, for a new job in Humboldt County. I will mention here that the night we arrived in Arcata for my husband’s interview we had one of those quick quakes that shook the hotel bed. It’s almost as if California wanted to acknowledge my presence.
Settling into life on the northern California coast, I was surprised to find that my terror of earthquakes was not the same here. I’m sure it must be because of the lack of people and huge buildings, but for whatever reason, it felt much more comfortable in spite of living on a major fault line.
Until yesterday. Notice the intensity chart above and section of 2nd darkest orange in the strong category? Take a guess where we live….
The more granular chart that I found yesterday said that I experienced a quake in the range of a 6.3-6.7. This was most definitely NOT one of the “jolt” quakes I had experienced before.
It started like one. I was in my living room with my computer in my lap and suddenly the room lurched. I realized that it was a quake, but it took a second realization to get me up. The room was still moving, and I decided I should get out of the house.
Everything was kind of swaying and lurching. It was just like being on a boat in a violent storm. The ground under me was rocking and rolling without rhythm. The front door was about 15 feet away and I lurched along and got the door open. I paused under the doorway, a safe place, and waited for it to stop.
It didn’t. Escaping the house, I stepped down onto the front porch, into the driveway and reached our car. I stood there, holding on for dear life, while the storm continued. It felt like it lasted for hours. The huge palm tree in our front yard was swaying, alarms were going off, and I just stood waiting for it to end. It finally did, but for several minutes afterwards I had “sea legs” trying to convince me that everything was still moving.
After talking to my husband and making sure he and our home were ok, the first person I talked to was my son in Denver. While talking to him I described the experience as spiritual. I’ve had over 24 hours to process, and that is still the most accurate description.
How do I move forward with my life having seen the illusion of stability literally crumble under my feet? What does it mean to have no real “solid ground”? These are questions I will be carrying forward into 2025.
I have immense gratitude, that for the most part, we and our neighbors were not affected. Population density is low, and the tallest building downtown is three stories. Structures seem to be built to withstand even strong shaking. I recognize how lucky we are, and I am grateful.
I love science and I am not ignorant of the real nature of the earth; how it is not a solid rock but instead layers of rock with a center of molten lava. Knowledge without experience is lifeless, just words on a paper.
As of yesterday, I have a deep bodily understanding of what it is to live in a world where even the ground is not solid. Nothing is irrevocably stable, not even the earth. If that isn’t a spiritual experience, then I’m not sure what is.
This will likely be my last post this year. I hope for everyone this is a season of love and joy and that however you celebrate, may you find love and abundance now and throughout the new year! For now, I’ll leave you with one more anecdote from yesterday.
As I walked back into the house, our smallest cat, Willow, was sitting in the doorway of our bedroom looking much like the cat above, but with much bigger eyes. Totally defined how I was feeling!
This must have been terrifying Saphyre. I heard about it when I woke but your words have really conveyed the experience. We have been to California a few times, and each time, I wonder if this is when there will be an earthquake. Relieved to hear that all are ok, including the cat.
I totally empathize. I live in New Zealand which has, on occasion, been nicknamed 'the shaky isles'. I don't think you ever get used to them.