Sendai, March 15, 2011
Hello My Lovely… Family and Friends,
First I want to thank you so very much for your concern for me. I am very touched. I also wish to apologize for a generic message to you all. But it seems the best way at the moment to get my message to you. Things here in Sendai have been rather surreal. But I am very blessed to have wonderful friends who are helping me a lot. Since my shack is even more worthy of that name, I am now staying at a friend’s home. We share supplies like water, food and a kerosene heater. We sleep lined up in one room, eat by candle light, share stories. It is warm, friendly, and beautiful.
During the day we help each other clean up the mess in our homes. People sit in their cars, looking at news on their navigation screens, or line up to get drinking water when a source is open. If someone has water running in their home, they put out sign so people can come to fill up their jugs and buckets. Utterly amazingly where I am there has been no looting, no pushing in lines. People leave their front door open, as it is safer when an earthquake strikes. People keep saying, “Oh, this is how it used to be in the old days when everyone helped one another.”
Quakes keep coming. Last night they struck about every 15 minutes. Sirens are constant and helicopters pass overhead often. We got water for a few hours in our homes last night, and now it is for half a day. Electricity came on this afternoon. Gas has not yet come on. But all of this is by area. Some people have these things; others do not. No one has washed for several days. We feel grubby, but there are so much more important concerns than that for us now. I love this peeling away of non-essentials. Living fully on the level of instinct, of intuition, of caring, of what is needed for survival, not just of me, but of the entire group.
There are strange parallel universes happening. Houses a mess in some places, yet then a house with futons or laundry out drying in the sun. People lining up for water and food, and yet a few people out walking their dogs. All happening at the same time. Other unexpected touches of beauty are first, the silence at night. No cars. No one out on the streets. And the heavens at night are scattered with stars. I usually can see about two, but now the whole sky is filled.
The mountains are Sendai are solid and with the crisp air we can see them silhouetted against the sky magnificently.
And the Japanese themselves are so wonderful. I come back to my shack to check on it each day, now to send this e-mail since the electricity is on, and I find food and water left in my entranceway. I have no idea from whom, but it is there. Old men in green hats go from door to door checking to see if everyone is OK. People talk to complete strangers asking if they need help. I see no signs of fear. Resignation, yes, but fear or panic, no.
They tell us we can expect aftershocks, and even other major quakes, for another month or more. And we are getting constant tremors, rolls, shaking, rumbling. I am blessed in that I live in a part of Sendai that is a bit elevated, a bit more solid than other parts. So, so far this area is better off than others. Last night my friend’s husband came in from the country, bringing food and water. Blessed again. Somehow at this time I realize from direct experience that there is indeed an enormous Cosmic evolutionary step that is occurring all over the world right at this moment. And somehow as I experience the events happening now in Japan, I can feel my heart opening very wide. My brother asked me if I felt so small because of all that is happening. I don’t. Rather, I feel as part of something happening that much larger than myself. This wave of birthing (worldwide) is hard, and yet magnificent.
Thank you again for your care and Love of me,
With Love in return, to you all,
Anne See More
Thank you Anne for this beautiful piece – so full of hope and light. I wish you lots of luck and love. It’s what one really needs to read at such a time. And thank you PW for publishing it.
Jamie – I’ve been sending light to Japan, too – in my meditations. The more the merrier!
Thank you for sharing Anne and God bless you and your companions. Sending you love and light.
be
The days after the Loma Prieta earthquake in San Francisco, where I was living in the hardest hit area–the Marina–at the time, we had aftershocks almost every hour for the first week. There was a time after awhile when all we could do was weep crying “Please no more”.
What helped were the local taverns up the street handing out free beer and candles. The homeless people directing traffic when all the traffic lights were out. And since our section of town had no power for over a week, friends offered their homes to take showers, get cleaned up, wash clothes, and try to get back to quote-unquote “normal life”.
I think of the New Yorkers who after experiencing the 9-11 attacks, two years later took kindly to each other talking each other down from fear on the streets, and even sleeping together on the stairs of buildings when there was a massive power outage in the city.
My heart is there for all of those in Sendai and Japan. Its us. When we are all affected by events bigger than us, we are one heart.
Thank you so much for sharing this.
Here’s the follow-up from Ode:
http://www.odemagazine.com/blogs/readers_blog/24784/signs_of_hope_in_sendai
posted by Anne Thomas on 3/16/2011 10:25 am
Signs of hope in Sendai
Once again I want to write to you about what is happening here. The TV news is frightening beyond belief. In fact, this entire phenomenon seems totally surreal. Beyond the edges of one’s wildest imagination. But I continue picking through the rubble of this experience to find flickers of hope and powerful experiences of beauty.
Yes, the devastation continues, as do deep concerns over the nuclear fallout. But along side of the ongoing horrific news we have started hearing stories of a positive nature. They may be small and subtle, but they are emerging. A doctor, for example, who lost his home and clinic, went to live in an evacuee shelter. He immediately saw the tremendous medical needs there, so began treating patients to the best of his ability. A nurse came in by helicopter to offer her services. During her interview she said, “People must overcome this crisis. We cannot give up.”
Likewise a restaurant owner, who also lost his home, but not his business, opened up shop and offered hot bowls of noodle soup to evacuees for free. “We must help one another,” was his only comment.
Indeed, a friend in Tokyo wrote this to me in an e-mail. “I know that every Japanese people can exersize their best to help others in such serious circumstances and you can rely on their kindness. That is our culture. Of course, I am ready to support you anything you need, so please don’t hesitate, but let me know whatever I can support you.”
In evacuation centers there are puppet shows for children. “It’s to ease their minds,” my friend explained to me. “That is very important.” And for the Japanese one’s state of mind often carries more weight than facts. That is because we have some semblance of control over our mind, no matter what the outer circumstances may be.
In another shelter junior high school students got paper and paints and made a large bright, energetic sign that said, “To have life is profound joy.” It was hung high overhead so everyone could see it and be encouraged by the words.
On local TV stations time is allotted to read messages of people seeking family members. We comfort one another as best as we can. We still say, “Gambarimashou” (We must keep up our fighting spirit). We see shots on TV of family members reuniting, of long lines of people waiting to use free phone service to call home and friends. We see a lot of tears. But so much comfort, so much support.
The city’s basic infrastructure has collapsed, but people are working round the clock to get things back into some sort of normalcy. Water came first in big trucks. Then in some areas it was on after a day. Electricity is also slowly coming back on. Gas will not be available for another month or so because of excessive damage to the pipes. We are all dreaming of a bath, of just being able to wash a bit. But as one woman in a shelter said, “I was so cold at night, but everyone else was, too. So, that gives me courage.” In that context a bath seems so minor.
Buses have resumed on some routes. Some food shops are open for a few hours a day. I noticed a shop open with flowers for graves, for shrines and temples so that the souls of the long ago and recently deceased may have a touch of earthly beauty in heaven.
There is so much support and solidarity. I want to close with another e-mail from a friend who is a university teacher. It, too, is an excellent manifestation of the truly remarkable Japanese “kokoro” (heart and soul).
“I have been trying to find out the situations of some students and friends whom I lost contact with since the earthquake and tsunami attacked this area.
“There are still many students staying and living on campus. Some lost their houses and the others are not sure if their families are OK. When I met them, I just couldn’t find right word to cheer them up.
“Today was supposed to be a graduation day which was postponed and might be canceled. When I saw the students at the campus housing this morning, they served me a special breakfast that the juniors cooked for the seniors to celebrate the day. The meal was cold, but really special. I won’t forget the taste of it. I am convinced that my students will overcome this tragedy with the positive attitude. I intend to emulate them.”
With Love
Anne
I don’t usually consider myself a fellow ‘light worker’ but just a few hours ago, I spent just about 20 minutes, not enough but a little bit, of time sending white, healing energy, not just to Japan but all around the world. People all over need to realize that the goodness coming out of this indeed needs to reach all of the far corners of our small earth. Thank you for making me feel like just a small part of the whole! 🙂
I just finished reading this in Ode. Beautiful.