What if We All Die?

And Other Happy Thoughts, Post-Earthquake

On Friday morning, I was frantically searching the shelves of my local thrift store for some unchipped teacups to host a birthday tea for my oldest. I noticed the teensie-est of clanking noises between the rattle of a teacup covered in pink roses.

And then, the earth roared.

I stopped mid-aisle as the shelves shook mightily, causing porcelain to shatter. Everything seemed to be in slow motion, almost comically so. The little old gentleman looking at an antique dresser held his arms out as if he were surfing to hold his balance. The couple in the lighting aisle ducked simultaneously- he sought shelter beneath a table and left her to fend for herself. Two middle-aged women clasped hands at the register. One older woman just stood in the middle of the store, hands on her hips, pouting at the inconvenience of it all.

I did not panic. I did not cower. I didn’t even run, seek shelter, or scan the room for injuries.

I simply, wondered.

What if we all die?

It was over in a matter of seconds. Some ran out of the door to their cars, to see if they could outrun the fact that the only planet we can actually live on just tried to kill us.

Some picked up their browsing as if nothing happened at all.

Others made phone calls-

Is everyone alright? What was that? HERE? We don’t get those, here.

I did nothing.

I was not in shock- I could move my body freely, make cognitive decisions, and assess the situation.

The literal earth moved beneath my feet, confirming there was nothing certain or safe about living.

And it felt like the biggest relief.

We can forgo a latte once a week to save a thousand bucks only to have to take out a loan for 10k to remove a leaning tree from our yard.

We could install a ring camera only to be robbed by a friend we let in through the back door.

We could wake every morning and force ourselves to run on a treadmill at the gym only to die of heart disease.

We could choose to go broke living in the tri-state area because it’s free of most natural disasters, and then discover your house is one house over from the only fault line in New Jersey after you live through your first real earthquake.

This is not a call to throw caution to the wind- to not dream. Prepare. Plan. Some things are preventable- most things? Not so much.

There is only one thing to do.

Accept that being a human is beautiful and terrible.

Celebrate everything.

Worry for nothing.

Repeat forever.