Driving down Chain Bridge Road in the storm a few weeks ago, the obstacle course through the fallen trees and the power outage brought back memories of the last bad storm that I experienced, Hurricane Katrina. Storms upset our lives. They inconvenience us. They take things away from us. Laying in bed in the hot dark in the hours after I arrived home next to my daughter reminded me of something that is often forgotten…storms also bring something of value to us. The quiet stillness of the night and the dark brought a certain connection with my daughter. First of all, it brought the dream I hear parents wish for so often – screens were gone and we were left with each other. It was like a time warp, where we were transported to a period when we had to read, write with a pencil, and talk with one another for entertainment. I relished how nice it was to be rid of the distractions from intimacy that plague us. Storms bring dynamic interactions to life.
There is an ambiance of resilience that permeates the atmosphere during and after a storm that bonds people together. My hometown community of Bay St. Louis, Mississippi never appeared as close as it did in the months after the tragedy. The streets were full of neighbors walking to a neighbors house to check on someone, borrow a ladder, loan a hammer, dine at the community tent. We started connecting to share resources again; people started touching one another – hands were squeezing shoulders, touching other hands…we were literally reaching out. As I listened to stories of families with electricity offering showers or stays to others without, I was reminded of this resiliency and intimacy. Storms remind us that we’re a community, thread together by humanity. Passing a downed tree in my neighborhood, I rolled down the window and expressed my sympathy for the roof damage and the home owner walked over to my car and introduced himself. Come to find out, he’s a retired contractor and I just bought a house in need of a contractor. The storm had connected us, the dots. We spent the better part of the hour talking. Networking not only resources us, it fulfills us.
Adversity pulls people together. We don’t need a storm to learn that lesson. When people face trauma in families, because of personal inner conflicts or interpersonal stormy conflicts, a vulnerability can arise from the loss that can ironically lead to closeness. Loss creates interdependence and it turns out that connectedness is really important to mental health. It’s become so easy to live an isolated life. Our commutes put us in the car alone, our screens put is in a separated space from others, and our homes become our isolated refuge. Ok, I’m starting to hear Barbara Streisand in the background singing “People Who Need People,” but there is truth to the fact that those who learn how to need others are most fortunate. I’d like to challenge you to take the public transportation one day this month to a place you normally drive. Roll down your window and greet someone to someone who you normally pass up or simply wave at in the neighborhood. Turn off the electricity and shut down the media whirl and sit in the quiet of the day or night together for non-storm time together. And the next time your family faces a difficulty, look at it as an opportunity to pull together. Pay attention to how others lean on you and how you lean toward others. Recognize that bad times are temporary and that they teach us tolerance. They teach us that we can live and survive with distress if we have each other. Houses in Mississippi are now built up high enough off the ground to avoid flood damage. In family adversity, we learn to lift up others in order to heal. In the middle of the next disagreement, be the first to say, “I love you no matter what.”
Virginia DeRoma, Ph.D.
Licensed Clinical Psychologist