Hymn of Impending Doom
Field Notes IV.IV: On an approaching winter storm
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The melody begins softly, as a whisper. A lonesome sad whistle. A subdued hum. Somewhere, someone warned of a winter storm more than a week away. It’s coming. Yes, it is important, to an extent, to be aware of the world around. To know what events may be on the horizon, and to be prepared. But do we become entranced by the song itself?
It’s coming. It’s coming. The words become an underlying rhythm. Expert voices enter. A lot can change, they say. But make preparations now. Meteorological accounts share projections. Models of possibility. This is a big one. It’s coming.
Heavy is the tune. Anticipatory. A much different type of worry. To stand alone in a forest at night facing a lurking bear, prowling in the darkness beyond the limits of sight… that fear can be confronted. You cannot point a pistol at an ice storm.
How much preparation is enough? How much is possible? Cold is endurable, but at home the concerns are greater than oneself. It will affect loved ones. Pets. Pipes can freeze, demanding unaffordable repairs. It’s coming.
Closer now. The meter quickens, the volume builds. Very bad. Very, very bad. Very, very, very… as if the intensity of warning will alter the effect. The storm will bring ice, you see, not snow. But there’s little more that can be done. None the less, the voices align. Severe. Local governments elevate response levels to yellow. It’s coming. Now a crucial moment- consensus! And with that, like the clarion call of a French horn, the term ‘catastrophic’ is dropped. They have sung the Hymn of Impending Doom.
Who can blame the experts, though? They know. They are concerned. They want to help. They have an obligation to the public. And indeed, we listen to their psalms. We want to know, too. Anxiety dances to the persistent rhythm of warnings.
How does anyone prepare for the unknown, or even the unforeseeable? Is it possible to become robust to out of control major events? Or perhaps, to use the term coined by Nassim Taleb, become antifragile? To thrive and grow stronger amid chaos and uncertainty?
The possibility does exist, and it exists within the mind. We all have been granted a unique chance to experience life and to witness this strange and astonishing world. But the facet we get to see is not of our choosing. The experiences we encounter are never fully within our control. We have our minds, though, and within them the freedom to judge, to choose, and to recognize. We can recognize beauty, possibly even divinity, in everything around us, at all times. Even in disaster. We can choose to stand with nobility before the Fates as they read our verdict aloud. For there is a reverberating elegance in holding the pain in contempt.
With our minds we can understand that everything around us are things of this world and they will never remain the same. Just like us, they are transient. And so, we must learn to sing our own Hymn of Silence. Our devotional aria to the present moment, to never to let it slip by unattended.
What can harm a mind that has achieved such freedom? The choir grows quiet. The Song of Impending Doom will not sway one who finds wonderment at chickadees hopping on fresh snow, amazement at green boughs drooping under the weight of ice, and who laughs to see sunlight glinting on icicles.
The storm came and went. Sleet fell. The roads were icy slush. But the power did not go out. This storm was no disaster.
This is not to condemn experts or to revel in missed predictions. Their knowledge, insight, can save lives. The art of interpreting potential will never be an accurate one. Still, we are grateful.
This is a call to awareness of the Hymn of Impending Doom. Both for the musicians and for the audience. We must guard against being swept away by the song. It sings an escalating anthem of itself, ever growing and swirling. Enthralled, we will be trapped in the whirlpool.
Step outside, even just a little bit, for the ice storm is beautiful!
How did everyone’s ice storm go? I’m sure many of you fared far worse than I did. In this essay I’m just being playful with some ideas bouncing inside of my skull as I listened to too many people warning of things I could not do anything to change. I’d love to hear your thoughts. Did you get enchanted by the Hymn of Impending Doom?
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Erik, while you are enduring your winter storms, we have been suffering bushfires - the worst conditions were forecast since Black Saturday in 2009, which killed 173 people here in my state of Victoria. We also use the word Catastrophic for our worst conditions.
Much has changed since Black Saturday - a Royal Commission, a new warning system, far better real time information. The day was as bad as expected - Monitor; Watch and Act; Leave Now and finally Shelter in Place. It is too late to safely leave, don't expect assistance - there is no fighting of fires on day like this; at best, some asset protection.
These warnings are working, as best they can. The community is better prepared and willing to act. Tragically, one person died, but it could have been worse. Over 400,000 hectares burnt so far this month, but many fires are still going - contained but waiting for the next hot, windy day.
Sometimes the Hymn saves lives.
We are in the winter of doom--no snow. It is pretty frightening. By the way, when we went to comment (on my computer, which might be why) I had to get a code that was sent to my gmail. I haven't had to do that on my phone. Weird.