The Quake.

My morning began as most of my mornings begin.

I had just begun the process of getting ready, which at this stage, meant sitting on my bed and brushing my teeth.

It was 8:30 in the morning, and as I pulled up the weather on my phone, I felt my bed start to shake.

I’ve been through enough earthquakes in my time in both California and Alaska to know when one’s coming on, and let me tell you:

One was coming on.

So I got up to go downstairs and all of a sudden, it got bigger. And bigger.

The shaking escalated as my chandeliers swung and things began cartwheeling off of my shelves and somewhere in between my dive for rescue underneath the door frame, I threw my toothbrush into oblivion.

And in those few seconds, I felt complete powerlessness.

Like a tiny insignificant speck at the mercy of Mother Nature’s strength, the most I could do was wait it out and pray that the shaking would end soon.

It was downright the most terrifying sensation I have ever felt and not two minutes after it happened, we got a tsunami warning on our phones to evacuate to high ground.

Just like that, Alaska experienced another 7.2 earthquake, added to the list of quakes that have already struck this strong state.

It was a doozy of a day after that, a day filled with stalking social media for evidence of the destruction (of which there was plenty of in Anchorage), checking the earthquake sites for updates on the tsunami, and then precautionary tidying up at the house to protect against expected aftershocks.

See, this quake not only made me feel, but it also made me think.

It made me think of Alaskans, and how brave and resilient its people are.

We live in a pretty sensational place and despite appearances, it’s not just made for the beautiful. It’s made for the wild.

Alaska is rough, rugged, and full of danger that its residents have prepared for, especially when it comes to threatening natural disasters. Throughout the years, we’ve adapted our lifestyle to accommodate her and there grew this mutual respect between Alaska and her inhabitants.

The quake today was a big one, one of the larger ones we Alaskans have braved, but we remained cool, calm, and collected, and our strong community came together and got through it.

Geez, within the past month, I left a state burning on both ends and came home to a state that hit me with a 7.2 earthquake and subsequent tsunami warning ( and multiple aftershocks).

And somewhere in there I lost my darn toothbrush.  

Never a dull moment, that’s for sure.

Also, I think it’s prelevant to mention that in my moment of evacuation panic, this is what I threw on. Like the Unsinkable Molly Brown, I was leaving in style...

When It Rains, It Pours.

You ever hear of that old adage “when it rains, it pours”?

Historically, it was often used with the implication of having a negative connotation. Like when something bad happens, other bad things usually happen at the same time.

Take the weather in Alaska, for example.

It’s the end of November, typically a month of high flying snow, and I woke up this morning to the pounding sound of pouring rain.

Forty degrees, and raining.

And not just pitter patter rain, but downpours of big wet fat droplets.

With rain comes black ice, comes slow traffic at the coffee shop, and so the old adage is fulfilled.

I am all too familiar with the saying, as I often find myself experiencing multiple bad things at the same time. Knowing the familiar pattern, I embrace what’s coming, but what I’d like to talk about is the perspective on this popular saying.

If there’s a quote that insinuates one bad thing leading to multiple bad things, can’t there also be an opposite outlook that implies one good thing leading to multiple good things?

Case in point:

I just returned to Alaska, the home I’ve been aching towards returning to since I first left it. Upon arrival home, I’ve received my pallets full of my household goods (which came abnormally quick considering the distance to which they had to travel), I’ve begun work at not only the coffee shop, but the farm as well (which I’ll share with you in a bit), I was approached and asked out on a successful date with a man I enjoyed spending time with ( and which lasted until 2:30am), and for the first time in a long time, I feel like I’m back on the path to happiness.

Perspective is huge and I’m a big promoter in the idea that even when something bad happens and other bad things happen along with it, we have to remember that the same happens when good things occur. And even when these so called “bad things” happen, like the rain in Alaska, they can be looked at from a different angle.

Pouring rain isn’t “bad”, for it’s giving me the opportunity to wear my fall wardrobe. Black ice isn’t “bad”, it just forces you to drive methodically and safely. And slow traffic at the coffee shop isn’t “bad”, it’s just a part of business sometimes and it gives us the chance to come up with opportunities to creatively get people in the door.

So I say: let it rain.