The image of tsunamis is something rather newish to my visual vocabulary. The 2005 Asian massive one and then the closer to home, 2011 Tohoku one both did and still do shake me to the core. 

Today, on the train platform, I was walking when from behind I could hear the rumbling of the approaching train. I quickend my step as it got louder, the earth started vibrating and before I could catch myself I had placed my mind into someone trying to outrun a tsunami. The train passed me of course and I felt washed over with the feeling of fruitlessness and grief for the thousands who tried to save themselves. 

Pulling myself back from myself, it was bewildering that I would play such a cruel mind game.

Suffering is so much harder to make sense of. I wonder if this fact for me has given me the knee-jerk desire to simplify everything. To wrap my head around life more easily.  Restarting blogging is my way to clear head space. As I type, at this moment, I am trying to step back again: the emotions of the day can be seen whirling in my head, my chest is clenched and debris of this cerebral tornado fly out. It is my Dads birthday today and I am unintentionally trying to hold it in. He would have been 71. I know I could  write more and release the sorrow but I don't want to. A friend came over and mentioned a fear she has and again the territory was so potentially real that I was scared to tread there mentally after she left. Wars, natural disasters, uncontrollable tragedies...they are so profound that they entangle internally. The only way I can even begin to disentangle is to acknowledge that both fear and grief are  very difficult to set free.