I spin out further than I have thought possible.
Why did government officials allow those plants to carry on even though several were in violation of safety standards? What does a nuclear meltdown look like? What happens to the people, the birds and beasts? The prevailing winds are eastward, out to sea--and over to California. How far does nuclear fallout carry? When do I call my son, my brother in a panic? Evacuate California? Where to, exactly? What will happen to the poor souls in Japan who managed to survive flooding, drowning? It is possible that what humans have wrought--the peril we have put ourselves in--seems infinitely worse than anything nature could do to us.
I wake to find that my nocturnal spin out doesn't seem to have been so lunatic. I was momentarily confused about the time, having lost an hour to daylight savings--only to learn that the entire earth has lost a fraction of its daily spin through the sky. Scientists calculate that the length of day on earth has been shortened by the trauma of the quake. The coast of Japan has moved eight feet. Its shockwaves will continue to rocket through our days and nights. My thoughts for comfort go out to Japan, and to all who are in harm's way.
We await further developments about the perilous state of the nuclear reactors. Our minds, our hearts, our souls, cannot help but spin out. How far is safe, in this day and age? Is there any such thing as safe anymore? Why must we learn to escape ourselves? How will we do such a thing?
I don't think "women have cornered the market on worry", as one commenter has put it quite well. I think this worry is part of feeling compassionate. This is a time to pause, to offer prayer, wishes, thoughts--and to discover in ourselves, and honor, a new dimension of heartsickness.