what a storm can do

last night, late, one of the most aggressive thunderstorms i have ever experienced. the lightning was so bright, it really looked as if someone were standing on the roof of our house flashing a bright white light on the garage in back, in successive flashes, 3-5 seconds apart, for at least 40 minutes. the thunder so raging and aggressive, sounding like iron gurneys being slammed onto the floor of the sky and rolled angrily to crash against a very nearby wall.

when it first woke me up it was splendid, because it's great being witness to a raucous thunderstorm, especially if it's in the middle of the night. there's a romance to it. david and i uttered our various "wow"s and "goddamn"s. but as it went on and did not decrease but rather seemed to increase in intensity, i began to sense my utter insignificance. how i could be ripped to shreds, smothered, snapped like a twig by nature, without a second thought.

it wasn't like a woody allen "i'm dying!" existential crisis, but there was a shuddering-in-the-corner-peering-out-into-the-void feeling about it. it made me think that i do not live as if i could die at any moment-- i have way too many possessions, for one thing. who do i think i'm fooling, with all those books?! that was one of the thoughts. another was that i really should clean up, because if the house were ripped in half by lightning, i would be ashamed about all the unneeded muss and detritus when the rescue cleanup crew came.

and also, where's the urgency in my life? where's the fire under my ass? in what way am i manifesting the rage of lightning inside of me?