Here's the email message I sent to my loved ones yesterday morning (Friday, December 12) from Antioch University:
I wanna go home! I checked the weather report on my computer yesterday morning before heading to the university on my bike--it was raining; raining, and there were patches of ice here and there on sidewalks and roads, but it didn't seem that bad! By late afternoon, slush was falling from the sky and freezing on the roads. Antioch University was shut down, and we were sent home early. I left my bike at the school, and a classmate drove me home. Early this morning the power went out in my house. I had cold bread and milk for breakfast, but as I headed out walking into the melting slush, I was cheered to see that a lot of places in Keene still have power. I bought a decaf latte for my thermos on my way to the university. My 8:30 class had been rescheduled for 11:00 this morning, but I turned on my cell phone when I arrived, and there was a message telling me that all my classes today are cancelled. I phoned Ken and pouted!
I'm told Keene is situated in a protected little valley, and that the surrounding areas are in very bad shape. My instructors and several of my classmates live in the surrounding areas. Last night a tree came through the roof of the living room of two of my instructors, and this morning trees continued to split and fall, tearing down power lines as they went. Driveways and roadways are blocked with fallen trees, and major highways are closed.
So, here's what I'm visualizing for myself: I'll ride my bike home this afternoon, and be greeted by a delightfully warm house, with lights shining through the windows!
I'll be able to use my computer, and phone whomever I like using Skype, and my little blue bed will be cosy and warm!
_____________________________________
Not being a spontaneous kind of gal, my initial concern was, "What am I going to do all day, now that my classes are cancelled?" The faculty advisor for my class recently emailed us some reading assignments to complete by mid-January, so I bought one of my 'Spring' term textbooks, and went ahead with the prescribed readings. I chatted with a couple of my classmates (Edith and Astrea) who are out-of-towners, hanging out at the university for the day, because they were staying in Keene for our Shepherd's Play dress rehearsal, scheduled for today (Saturday). I began to worry about the night, (long; dark; chilly) when I called my landlady at 3:00 and learned that there was still no power in our house. She has a broken barbecue and a misplaced camp stove, so we had no hope of so much as a hot cup of tea while the power was off. My plan was to stay at the bright, warm university until suppertime; then eat at a bright, warm restaurant, and then . . . walk around the block or try some bedroom Tai Chi by candlelight to warm up, bundle up and make the best of it in a chilly bedroom.
At suppertime Edith received a call from our drama instructor--no play rehearsal Saturday. She and her husband (another of my instructors) had no power in their house, a broken window, and a blocked driveway--they were essentially prisoners in their cold, dark house. They hadn't been able to sleep during the night because of the snap, crackle, and pop of tree limbs succumbing to the weight of the ice in the forest surrounding their house. This is the couple whose living room was invaded by a crashing tree at 1:00 a.m. While Edith emailed our classmates, Astrea and I went through the class list, calling people on their cell phones to tell them not to travel to Saturday's rehearsal venue. A call came through on my phone from Gary, my housemate, to tell me that the electrical power was restored in our house!
Oh, Joy! Oh, Bliss! Goddess is in Heaven; all's right with the world!
Edith and Astrea drove home to their families, and I realized my visualization: I rode my bike home to a warm house, lit up like a Christmas tree. I cooked myself a hot meal, and celebrated with a Seagram's Ice. (Tee-hee--ice storm Ice!) Oh, the miracle of light switches; furnaces; cooking applicances; hot water! (It's jolly COLD outside this morning--I don't think I would have lasted the night in an unheated house.) Prayers to those who are still without power in their homes.
At suppertime Edith received a call from our drama instructor--no play rehearsal Saturday. She and her husband (another of my instructors) had no power in their house, a broken window, and a blocked driveway--they were essentially prisoners in their cold, dark house. They hadn't been able to sleep during the night because of the snap, crackle, and pop of tree limbs succumbing to the weight of the ice in the forest surrounding their house. This is the couple whose living room was invaded by a crashing tree at 1:00 a.m. While Edith emailed our classmates, Astrea and I went through the class list, calling people on their cell phones to tell them not to travel to Saturday's rehearsal venue. A call came through on my phone from Gary, my housemate, to tell me that the electrical power was restored in our house!
Oh, Joy! Oh, Bliss! Goddess is in Heaven; all's right with the world!
Edith and Astrea drove home to their families, and I realized my visualization: I rode my bike home to a warm house, lit up like a Christmas tree. I cooked myself a hot meal, and celebrated with a Seagram's Ice. (Tee-hee--ice storm Ice!) Oh, the miracle of light switches; furnaces; cooking applicances; hot water! (It's jolly COLD outside this morning--I don't think I would have lasted the night in an unheated house.) Prayers to those who are still without power in their homes.
Seven more sleeps--count 'em! I have three fine, fat novels from the library to tide me over until our dress rehearsal and performance on Wednesday, and biking or walking outdoors every day will help to keep me occupied, as well. Our last full day of classes is Friday, December 19, the day before my flight to Edmonton.
Here is the Solstice verse from Steiner's Calendar of the Soul:
To carry spirit light into world-winter-night
My heart is ardently impelled,
That shining seeds of soul
Take root in grounds of worlds
And Word Divine through senses' darkness
Resounds, transfiguring all life.
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