I should be embarrassed to admit this but since nothing embarrasses me, except maybe being seen naked in public which has never happened so I'm only guessing, I'll say it: I'm jealous of all those people who live in the path of Matthew, the powerful Category 4 hurricane currently dominating the news, eclipsing even Hillary and Donald. (Thank God.) They, and by "they" I mean the hurricane-preparers, are living 100% in the here and now. For this very minute, and this one, and the next one too, and all the ones after that, they are concerned only with survival. There's no time for playing Candy Crush Saga or tweeting inconsequential nonsense. Suddenly, and just for today perhaps, their lives demand their full attention. They are busy being here now.
I am not busy being here now since my survival seems assured for the time being, at least for this morning. I have food and shelter and water and toilet paper and lack only sleep since I was up until three in the morning worrying about the state of the world, the melting ice caps and the dying bees and the last indigenous tribes coming out of the Brazilian rain forest for a documentary on Netflix, whereas if I lived in Florida I would have knocked myself out moving all the outdoor furniture inside and boarding up the windows and stocking up on generators and flashlights and jerky before finally hunkering down and getting a good night's sleep.
So the hurricane is coming. Sure there are clouds, lots of them, but each one has that promised silver lining, which just might make it all worth it in the end. Now if the saying were, "Every cloud has a burlap lining," that would be a bummer.