After all these years, I finally had an orgasm–
but my doctor told me it was the wrong kind.
from Woody Allen’s film “Manhattan”
Christian Grey and Anastasia Steele’s steamy romance would have gone with the wind if it started in our coast last week. Hurricane Sandy swept through my ‘hood swirling far more than 50 Shades of Grey clouds and moods: From people who were grateful to be spared losses, appreciative of a “back to basics” experience, and those with frayed nerves hanging on to the end of their rope, making do with less or without.
No cellphone nor internet connection for erotic messaging. No heat in the red room–or any color room for that matter–though there was a wide range of pain from living without the conveniences we take for granted. No local hardware store open to sell rope for mundane emergencies. No escaping the bind of kids who were thrilled to be out of school a whole week! And don’t get people started on the damage to their hearth and home, the curse of cabin fever when there’s no place to go with dubious sources of gas and food.
I appreciate how disaster brings people together though. On any given week, we’d be running around relentlessly, too busy with our important lives. Last week, everything came to a halt and we had to stay close to home, chill with family and neighbors, sharing what wasn’t spoiled in the pantry and lending a hand where it was needed. It was a reminder of simple pleasures, the importance of being face to face with community, the strength of resilient spirits and what matters. (What DID people do before electricity and the internet?)
After all that togetherness, there was mixed emotion when the lights finally came back on–BIG THANKS to the gentlemanly crew from Georgia who traveled far to fix our downed power lines. Who says we don’t need a hunk of a hero to bring heat back to our lives?
Click on “Leave a Comment” (above left) to share how pain clarifies what matters to you.
© Sharon Birke
Text 201 697 1947
Photography for the Goddess in Every Wife & Mother