"All Is Well; All Is Well!"

   

Before the ebullient sun  made its welcome greeting, the rose-pink horizon heralded the advent of a glorious spring morning.  As if proclaiming a celebratory salutation to the "Ides of March", the sun rose early to bathe the sluggish earth with its invigorating warmth while urging the green grass barely peeking out of the chilly ground to hold itself up and say adieu to the last vestiges of the oppressive cold of the departing winter.  The fickle wind that became vociferous at times was surprisingly quiet save for the gentle swaying of the lush leaves of a nearby fruit tree as if lulling someone to an early soporific state.  Even the clear blue sky was devoid of clouds that usually cast a dappled appearance to the morning sunshine.  And it was quiet, serenely quiet.

Then the hall clock, as if jealous of my break-of-day enjoyment, stirred me from my reverie.  Its sing-song sound proclaimed it was time to face the day and the tasks that lay ahead.  Driving to work, I continued to marvel at the beauty of that "Ides of March" morning and the promise of a subduedly balmy day. 

But the temperature that started at an ideal 59 degrees did not last long and towards noontime it became unseasonably warm as if the ephemeral spring was relinquishing its fragile hold of the season to the audacious summer.  Walking in the forenoon to one of the buildings through the enormous courtyard with some co- workers, I heard expressions of veiled grumblings about the pseudo summer heat.  "It's gonna be a long hot summer", said one.  "This heat is too early for me", said another.  I smiled and replied,  "Summer is good.  Better than tsunami and earthquake".  And yes, it was.

It was four days after an 8.9 magnitude earthquake, the strongest experienced in Japan, hit the northeast part of that country.  But that seismic activity, as powerful and strong as it had been, was not really the force that shook this vibrant country to its core.  Only minutes after the shaking stopped,  the violent ocean sent a destructive tsunami to Japan's shores like the earthquake's twin apocalypse.  It only lasted a few short inconsequential minutes, yet its vehemence and ferocity left a scene of devastation that would rival a most frightful nightmare.  With the loss of lives and property, the world of those affected was turned completely upside down.  Without sufficient warning, there was no time to prepare and escape this ghastly curse of nature and its aftermath left a nation reeling and in shock while the world watched in utter disbelief.  As if the combined wrath of the earthquake-tsunami tandem was not enough to quench nature's thirst to punish, another disaster threatened to bring a strong and resilient people to its knees.  The earthquake-shaken reactors in the country's hardly-hit area became dangerously close to causing a nuclear disaster and as Japan grappled to avert another catastrophe, the world prayed and held its breath.

Japan, the most progressive country in Asia, with the wealth of its  economy and the might of its infrastructure, was not a match with the fury unleashed by nature.  Its citizens, especially in the tsunami- hit areas, subsisted in noodles and rice balls if they were lucky,  and devoid of even as basic as drinking water in some locales that had not yet been reached by rescuers.  Many, who were probably dead, would remain unaccounted for and those alive  were huddled in buildings without electricity and heat in sub-freezing temperatures.   Men, women, and tiny babies and children were in imminent danger of a nuclear meltdown that brought  to one's mind the horrors of Nagasaki and Hiroshima.

It is at times like these when we are brought to a sobering realization that we do not hold life in our hands, that tomorrow is promised to no one, that the flimsy thread of life can snap and break without warning.  It is also at times like these when we become more keenly aware of every bit of life's blessing that escapes us during those lackluster desultory hours that rob us of our true purpose for being.  When we allow ourselves to focus on the trivial and mundane, we lose sight of the unfettered strength that can be provided by faith when the haven of our physical safety collapses.  And yes, it is at times like these when we most need to reflect on the gifts that each day brings, when we need to purposely enjoy, as if in expiation of past ingratitude, the beauty of each morning, the warmth of the splendid sun, the clear, calm day that greets us, and the soothing, placid breeze that whispers its promise of safety and gentle reassurance: "All is well; all is well".  Thank God, all is well!