Howdy, Bubba! Hey, if you're new around these parts, I just want to say how much I appreciate you dropping by! Oh, and you may want to subscribe to my feed. Thanks, and a tip o' the hat to ya!

[Note from the Proprietor: This is an entry for this month's groupwrite project: What I Learned From Stress. See the bottom of this article for more details.]

___________________________

Ever been stressed out? (OK; I realize that was a rhetorical question.)

Maybe you’re involved in some work-related thing that isn’t quite working out like you’d hoped. Yup; been there. (Still am, for that matter. But I digress.) Or, you’re in a strained relationship with a loved one or a good friend. Uh-huh; been there too, I’m sorry to say.

And how about the news we’ve all been pummeled with lately - the media’s almost gleeful reporting of the failures of assorted banks, mortgage companies and other financial institutions? (Helpful hint: Ignore the “blame game”. Seriously.)

Or, it could be something really out of anyone’s control - like Hurricane Ike.

Caught in the Crosshairs

As Ike began to draw a bead on the Texas coast, and later when it became evident it would specifically hit the Houston-Galveston corridor, stress levels around here really began to build. Well… to be completely accurate, they shot into orbit like a Space Shuttle.

I mean, even at our distance from the coast (66.48 miles as the crow - and, I suppose, the hurricane - flies), we knew it was going to be bad. I couldn’t even begin to imagine what the folks in Galveston and the other nearby seacoast towns were going through. It was clear this was something merely boarding up windows with plywood wasn’t going to alleviate.

I mean, what would you do if you lived 5 feet above sea level, an expected 15-foot storm surge was coming, and there were no hills to head for? I imagine it’s a feeling not unlike being caught in a rifle’s crosshairs - and you’re the deer.

Stress.

All day Friday and all through the night we watched nonstop television coverage of Ike’s progress. When it finally reached landfall about midnight, it sortof caressed (hesitating a bit as the eye first touched land - an unusual move for most hurricanes), then slowly plowed onto shore like the howling, lumbering beast it truly was.

The storm’s eye arrived in Houston about 3 am and finally passed about 6 am, picking up speed and continuing its rampage up through eastern Texas and Arkansas. Although it lost its Hurricane status up in northeast Texas, Ike continued to dump huge amounts of rain through Missouri, Illinois and beyond. All in all, it was one heckuva storm.

Stress.

The Wind That Roars

I’ll tell ya what, folks; I’ll never forget the sound of that wind!

Although we live about 15 miles or so west of Bush Intercontinental Airport, on most days, you can easily hear the distant sound of jets as they make their approach. Oh, it’s not overwhelming or anything; not like living next door to the place. We just hear them in the distance as they feather their engines back for landing. It’s an almost gentle sound, actually.

But as Ike passed (pretty much right over us), the wind sounded exactly like those jet engines throttled up for takeoff - except on the street next door! I mean, it was the most amazing sound I’ve ever heard. At first we didn’t even realize it was the wind - we thought there was an actual jet caught up there in the clouds. But no, it was the roar of the wind as it scraped madly across the landscape; totally awesome in its intensity and scope. It still gives me a shiver.

Stress.

What’s really weird is how stress tends to build so slowly that you may not even notice it’s there. I mean, we knew it would be stressful; who wouldn’t get stressed when nature’s equivalent of a thermonuclear blast was going on right above ‘em?

But the rise in stress level is never that obvious. We were so busy watching the images on television, waiting with trepidation for that inevitable moment when the lights flickered… flickered… and finally went out for good (right about 2:30 am Saturday morning - just as the winds were beginning to reach their peak).

We didn’t have time to really think about it, though. We had our flashlights and our radio, and our prayers to concentrate on. As the news media grew fond of saying, we “hunkered down”.

Stress.

After the Storm

Even afterwards, while sorting out the broken foliage and inspecting the house for damage, our little buddy Stress lurked quietly in the background, adding that tiny little trickle of high-voltage energy to everything we did. Kinda like the sound of a buzz saw in the far distance; you could almost - but not quite - ignore it.

As day after day passed, still without power, we did everything we could to stay cool. Doors and windows stayed wide open to catch the passing breezes. (Amazingly, a cool front came through the next day, lingering for a while and lowering temperatures to tolerable levels. Quite a blessing!) I think this was the first time since I was a kid I had slept in a room with the windows open. No wonder my poor abused sinuses went crazy.

Stress.

Five days after the storm, at about 1 pm, power was restored to the houses across the street from us. A slight kick in the pants, but hey, it was encouraging just the same. On the other hand, now the wait was tinged with that irritating little voice that says, “Hey, they got power; why not us?” Not that we were jealous or anything, mind you. I think you understand what I mean.

Finally, about 7 pm that evening, lights all over the neighborhood popped on (we were out touring the neighborhood on our bikes at the time), and we rushed home to confirm it had indeed reached our house too. Sure enough, we had power! Our air conditioner was magically transforming the normally warm, humid broth we laughingly call air into something cool, dry and wonderful, while the few lights we’d left on shone brightly in the gathering dusk.

I’m tellin’ ya, it was a sight for sore eyes! Almost as if our home had spread its arms out to us, welcoming us back into its comfortable embrace.

Ah, bliss!

Later that evening, cool again and relaxed in our living room for the first time in about a week, I noticed something interesting. It was only then I realized that familiar knot way down in the pit of my stomach - well, it was no longer there. Funny; I hadn’t even been aware of its presence until it was gone.

It’s Over - Or is it?

Now, before I go on, I just want to say that in no way does what we went through compare to what the folks who truly lost everything have experienced. I mean, compared to them, our trials barely rate a jiggle on the ol’ stress meter, you know? And at the time of this writing (more than three weeks have passed), there are still some pockets of darkness in the city (about 100,000 electricity customers) and surrounding areas.

And that doesn’t even begin to relate to what the folks on Galveston Island, Bolivar Peninsula, and other nearby areas right on the coast have facing them. I mean, you’ve seen the pictures, I’m sure. Total devastation in some areas; months, if not years, to rebuild.

So I freely acknowledge that we were very blessed. Our burden, such as it was, was indeed light.

I spent some time viewing various photo galleries of the aftermath. From the pictures, especially the ones where it showed people, one thing was clear; stress sure leaves a mark, doesn’t it?

You could see it in the faces of those folks who are surveying, perhaps for the first time, the heart-rending damage to their homes, their businesses, and their lives. It’s plainly evident in their faces, in their reactions and in their posture: these folks are under an incredible, unbelievable amount of stress.

Shared Stress = Shared Burdens

One thing was obvious right from the start, though. As recovery efforts began to get into gear, the quickly arose a distinct sense of community. I mean, we’d all been through the crucible together. We knew what it was like. Remember the first few weeks right after 9-11? It was something like that.

(Note: By the way, forget all that hooplah you may have heard about FEMA messing up this or that - it was mainly the news media getting the stories wrong. In truth, everything worked fairly well, considering the magnitude of the disaster.)

People were helping people; you could see it everywhere. Out of the blue, a friend on the next street over brought over a generator - and the gasoline to run it (no power meant no working gas stations). All over town, folks with chain saws helped out those with none. Folks everywhere invited each other to impromptu open-air barbeques, as they emptied now powerless refrigerators and freezers.

Oh, make no mistake about it; it was definitely a stressful time, sure. And that stress was, and still is, a real burden for many. But one thing was obvious; it was a shared burden. And you know what? I saw some smiles, too. Sometimes fleeting, sometimes for an hour or two - but smiles, nonetheless.

Stress avoidance, when you get right down to it, is simply pointless, isn’t it? It can’t be done. In fact, spending all your time avoiding stress is pretty stressful in and of itself, don’t ya know. You simply can’t avoid it, no matter what you do. You might as well face it; it’s gonna come barreling down the pike whether you like it or not.

And there’s also no doubt about the consequences, too; bearing the burden of stress can really bring a person down. I mean, it really hurts.

But when we share the burden of stress, especially with others who have experienced the same things we have, well, something amazing happens. The burden gets lighter, and yes, the weight lifts a bit. A sense of fellowship can grow (given half a chance).

Oh, maybe it won’t last forever. But when you’re in the midst of a struggle, hey, folks will take anything they can get. You’d be surprised how far just a little help can go.

Homework

[Note from the Proprietor: I freely admit that, as always, the ol' flying fickle finger points right at me on this one.]

Ever been around folks who are going through a tough time of it? Was there anything you could do to help ease the burden, even a bit? Take a moment and imagine you’re on the business end of a high-stress situation. How do you feel about a helping hand? Now switch roles and think about it from the other direction. How does it make you feel? Are there things you could do better?

[As I mentioned at the opening up there, this article is my entry for this month's What I Learned From... groupwrite project. If YOU'VE ever learned something from a stressful time in your life (and who hasn't?) you're invited to join us. Just click on that cute little link and go read how you can participate. Hey, you never know - it may just change your life!]

You know, it would just be absolutely finer than a frogs hair if you would subscribe to my RSS feed!