Earthquakes. Living in California, we all know about the possibility of them happening—you prepare, but when it comes down to it, they shake your world both emotionally and physically.
Recently, we experienced an earthquake like no other. It registered at 5.2, but being just miles from the epicenter, I felt an unnerving fear rush through my body. I had just brought home three-month-old kittens, and as we were all in the same room, they darted first—instinctively. It took me a moment to register what was happening before I rushed for the doorjamb while they scrambled for cover.
I’m not sure who was more scared. As the walls moved and the rumble enveloped us, tears started to roll down my cheeks. Panic overtook me—not just for myself, but for the safety of my new babies. In the chaos, I realized I wasn’t breathing. I was holding everything in.
That kind of fear, raw and sudden, brought me right back to my caregiving days. To the final moments with my mom. The helplessness, the uncertainty, the aching sadness—those emotions ran through me again like a well-worn recording. The earthquake became more than a natural disaster; it became a mirror for the emotional tremors I thought I had long silenced.
It’s strange how the body remembers, how a moment of chaos can unearth grief buried just beneath the surface. I sat with those feelings—shaking not just from the quake, but from the weight of memory. And as I held my breath, trying to re-center, the tools I’ve come to trust slowly emerged: awareness, breath, presence.
When the ground feels unsteady, literally or emotionally, what we reach for becomes our anchor. For me, in that moment, it was grounding my feet on the floor, bringing my hand to my heart, and gently whispering, you’re safe now.
We can’t always control the tremors that life throws at us—whether it’s the loss of a loved one, an unexpected change, or the ground shaking beneath us. But we can learn to return to ourselves. To breathe. To feel. To soften.
The epicenter of chaos may begin outside of us, but healing always begins within.
And for anyone who’s feeling unsteady—please know, you’re not alone.
Let this remind us that even in life’s shaking moments, we may discover unexpected clarity, strength, or healing.
Hugs,
Cyndi