Ice Ice Baby
The Ice Storm Commeth... All photographs by Kristen Noel
How unexpected storms in weather (or life) can bend us to the point of breaking…until we find a way to bounce back up
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Sometimes we get caught in the eye of a brutal life (or ice) storm…unprepared, ill-equipped, taken off guard. That’s exactly what happened to me recently—but I’m going to make ice water out of my icicles.
Honestly, when you live in the mountains—a little snow, rain or sleet in the forecast doesn’t ever really catch your attention too much…until it does. Until you find yourself smack dab in the path of its destruction. It’s kind of like low-grade vibes, stress and limited-thinking that you learn to live with until they become un-livable. Mother Nature will go to any extent to get her point across. Ha!
Let me share what happened.
As I often do in the middle of the night, I awoke to go to the bathroom and suddenly realized it was pitch black…seriously pitch black as I made my way down the hall. Even when you don’t leave house lights on, there is always a hue cast from an appliance, a clock, cable box or exterior light ever so gently illuminating. Living in town like we do, there are ambient lights sprinkled down the street outside my window and up the mountain range.
But on this night…nothing, nada…that kind of dark.
Power outage. As I crawled into bed, I said a silent prayer and nuzzled in falling back to sleep, hoping it would all be restored when I opened my eyes. The next morning before the break of day, we were awoken by the sounds of cracking, breaking, crashing to the ground—the ominous sound of trees in storms. All too familiar and frightening.
Please don’t come crashing through our roof, I plead to God, the Universe, my angels and any and all beings working on behalf of my highest good. I hope you are listening!
There was no wind, no rain, no visibility…just ground-shaking thumps and nothing to do about it but wait. Ride the wave, wait out the storm…pray and huddle between the duvet because the house was now bone-chilling cold.
When the sky was finally lit, we threw back the bedroom curtains only to see ice everywhere. It was like we were caught within a snow globe of glass. The weight of which drew everything downward, drooping. Some limbs unsustainable for trees to hold, just cracked and fell to the ground. Some smaller trees bent completely over like executing a gymnastics feat and doing a back bend.
Initially, we couldn’t see any damage but the woods at the far end of our property was a dangerous cacophony of destruction and fear-inducing activity. Taking our pup out, we approached the back only to witness with our own eyes, what we had heard—massive treetops plunging to the ground, their top too heavy, their burdens too great. Something had to give. Down they came.
Unfortunately, those massive branches took a good portion of our fencing along with it (but not the house…thank God for those angels). Each thump reverberated through the frozen tundra, exposing our backyard and our own vulnerabilities.
Power outages can feel like a timeout from Mother Nature. Go to your room. Get back to basics. Appreciate what you have and evaluate what you really need.And don’t come out until you do.
They strip away the distractions and can be very telling about how you weather the storms of life’s adversity and bumps in the road.
Hysteria? Complaining? Frustration? Anxiety? Deadlines, meetings, to-do lists derailed. While our feelings need acknowledgement, they don’t necessarily need to be fed. It honestly would’ve been easy to fall into any of those emotional states, but why waste the energy?
It ended up being a pretty harsh storm that shut down my town and much of the Hudson Valley along with it. No heat, no electricity, no Internet, no generator…coupled with dangerously low temperatures. We were completely shut down. No business as usual for days.
Of course, I adore my creature comforts, but I am also one who has done several wilderness expeditions in my lifetime and I’m a regular camper. In some ways we were prepared for the storm, some ways not so much. I didn’t waste my time getting upset or frustrated, just piled more clothes on, put some ski hand warmers in my socks, lit some candles and made the best of it…until the “best of it” got too cold by end of the first day. Still no power, I grew cranky. Even the fireplace couldn’t warm me up.
24 hours later we were devising an exit strategy. Initially, I had been reticent to leave the house for fear of my pipes bursting. But I couldn’t prevent that even if I tried, so why hang around and freeze with them. Before we left, we turned all the taps in the house on a very slow drip to keep water moving through them, praying it would help. Better yet, I walked around the basement and talked to my house. She is a tough ‘ol broad; a 1904 farmhouse and this wasn’t her first time at the ice-storm-rodeo. She could handle it.
I blessed her and thanked her and asked her to hang in there. Yes, I talk to my house. Sixteen years ago when I first purchased her, we connected and made a promise to each other. Neither of us has backed down on that. Never underestimate the soul of the space you live within and the intersection of your lives.
I couldn’t make the process go any faster. When we left, the roads looked like a war zone dodging between downed trees and power lines. I started to pray my gratitudes. I was grateful for the crews out in the middle of the night working around the clock trying to rectify the situation. I was grateful for my strong old house, the partner I could weather it all with, friends who checked up on each other and a place to escape to as I rode the rest of it out at my mother’s house (with heat and Netflix!).
Life interruptions remind us that even when we don’t think it’s possible, we can do things differently.
The world didn’t fall apart or stop turning during this time I was not at my computer working. The storm pulled me out of my busyness (and business) and the noise of my life to remind me how abundant it already was just as is…even there in the cold.
When all was restored, I was never so grateful to walk into my warm house, to feel hot water on my body in the shower, to have electricity…and this reset. The most basic of necessities became luxurious and I don’t want to ever forget that. On this sunny day after the storm, the tree branches shimmered in the sunlight. How could nature be so brutal and yet so beautiful at the same time? Perhaps this is precisely how she grabs our attention—infusing us with perspective, reminding us to be grateful and to remember how resilient we actually are.
One of the most exciting things that happened a few days later came when I glanced out the kitchen window into the backyard and saw that a tall 20+ foot bush that had been completely bent over to the ground laden with icy weight…had been restored to her upright, bright shining height. The morning after the storm, we were inclined to help her back up, perhaps even place a board beneath her to support her trunk. But we quickly realized if we moved her she would crack. She needed to “weather” this storm on her own.
The same goes for us. Sometimes we can’t fix things in the heat of the moment and instead must sit in the stillness of whatever is unfolding, allowing it to emerge. Trusting. It is possible to expand in stillness. We can be weighed down in life, but we can certainly bounce back…bent not broken…in our own time and when we are ready.
Mother Nature is always whispering to us; to heal us, guide us, inspire us. She recalibrates the soul.
It’s hard not to take things for granted in this busy life we lead. It’s hard not to see how we waste so much of our precious life and resources in the process. Yes, this brutal and unexpected storm that left many without power in frigid temperatures for more than 5 days also came bearing gifts—because that’s how life works when you choose to see it that way.
If you are feeling weighed down or burdened right now by life (or ice storms), can you trust that life is still working on your behalf—that there is something else to be revealed beneath it? Breathe into it and hold onto faith that you can sit in the vulnerability of whatever is weighing you down. And know that you can bounce back magnificently.
Are you feeling weighed down in any aspect of your life—feeling victimized by storms or bumps in the road? How do you bounce back? Please share with us in the comments below.