11 days shy of our second move anniversary, I was awoken by what felt like our room shaking.

You know the thing about earthquakes, they mostly don’t feel like shaking. Most of the time, you feel like you are a little seasick, only you are not out at sea; or that you have had a little too much to drink, and the world is spinning a little, only you have not had a drop of alcohol all week. The only difference, I have found, lies in how the experience sounds. When it is an earthquake, the gentle clinking of the hanging wineglasses, or in the case of two days ago, the loud clanking of the wineglasses and sounds of things crashing outside (and eventually inside too, when our bright yellow luggage fell from an open shelf) tell you that you are indeed not seasick, or buzzed or having vertigo. Our tank of an air purifier survived, and I lost a few pieces of ceramics, but overall we (and effectively all our belongings) emerged unscathed, albeit a little shaken.

In the few days since the quake, I have had many thoughts– some in the immediate aftermath as I went out to survey the damage and clean it up, some in the hours that followed as news of the damage on the east coast emerged, and some in the days following, as I consumed more content around what happened in various different parts of the island and as all these thoughts and feelings had time to settle. This post is an attempt to put some of these thoughts and feelings into words, and to remind myself to take nothing for granted in this life that is truly nothing more than a gift.

Thank Goodness for Friends

In the hours and days since, we have had the opportunity to connect with so many of our family and friends who have checked in on us, and whom we also wanted to check in with. It has also been a great source of comfort to have our network of friends in Taiwan with whom we could meet, and share our thoughts and emotions.

Some friends shared that they felt fear and panic in the moment; I honestly was probably too asleep or maybe shocked to feel deep fear. I do remember looking at the above-mentioned yellow luggage thinking back to the first ever earthquake we experienced in Taiwan– the question of whether or not it was safe for me to put a luggage there (and realising I had nobody to ask) was what prompted me to move “friend-making” to the top of the agenda. (Many friends and various earthquakes later, I finally have my answer, it is safe there until it meets a strong enough quake.) And thank goodness I did.

Redundancy

After moving to Taiwan we have had the opportunity to live with greater redundancy in our lives than we did before. Most days, we enjoyed it for the luxury that it is– enjoying quiet weekday afternoon coffees, some days we struggled to enjoy it as we come up against our conditioning to do more and press harder, but as I was clearing up the aftermath of the earthquake, I was reminded that redundancy allows us to deal with the earthquakes of life, and also clean up the mess they sometimes create. It is okay to have some redundancy, and it might even be necessary.

Gratitude

For so much, so so much for all the people that put in place the infrastructure that exists so as to allow life in Taipei to return to normal so quickly for so many people after a non-airplane related episode of turbulence.

Also, above all else, immense gratitude for the Gift of Life.

The Gift of Life

Perhaps the most resounding thought throughout this entire episode, is how every and any given moment is precisely that– given. It is all a gift.

I watch videos of people driving along roads that I take (sometimes alone) on road trips, as they have boulders the size of 2, 3, 4 cars roll down the side of the mountain onto vehicles, scenes straight out of movies or video games, and I am reminded deep in my gut that it could so well have been me and my time.

I now see the intersection of Zhongshan Rd, Xuanyuan Rd and Huagang St in Hualien plastered all over international news and think of all the times I have driven or walked down Zhongshan Road to get my favourite charcoal-grilled meat shop in the city, and now realise what a freaking gift it was– a gift I still have.

I think about all the hiking I did alone in Taroko National Park, and how I was given not just the gift of enjoying absolutely incredible nature, but also to have been gifted that time, and the time since, and this present moment and to still be receiving the gift of time.

In the Grand Scheme, We are Small.

Sometimes, going to nature gives us this perspective, and might be why we all go out to it when our souls need some soothing. Every now and again, nature does not wait for us to go to it to teach us lessons on how small we really are. She comes to us, whatever we might have been doing, wherever we might be, to remind us that She is all around, all the time. She is there even when the wine glasses are simply hanging there and it is silent all around.

May I be able to keep these perspectives with me even as we go about our daily lives after we have cleared up the broken pieces.