Thursday, September 15, 2005

In Chicago, a mother is awake, watching her daughter stir in three a.m. dreams that rustle the hospital sheets, wondering how much heartbreak is left in the world.

In Slidell, a man lies awake in the heat, wondering how he could have forgotten to pay the flood insurance.

In Houston, countless children are without parents, families without homes, couples lost to one another, and I can't imagine too many of them are sleeping well.

And me? I'm lying awake, too, my body showing all the signs of fear, and my mind, two steps behind, racing for a reason like a cat trying to track down the scratching sound of a mouse in a close kitchen cabinet. Checkbook? Plumbing? Work? Roof? Car? But there is no mouse, and no reason. Just a body inundated with enough disaster images to leave my adrenal glands on a hair trigger.

So, what to do?

Nothing. And I mean that quite literally. Turn off the TV, cut the RSS feeds, stop reading news sites and obessing over things I can't change and problems I can't solve. Narrow my focux to the people I actually know, and the problems I can reach. And take time to sit every day.

So that's why, if you're wondering, I've cut back on blogging about Katrina.

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