The Butterfly Effect

By Pushpa Iyer

On 25 May 2020, a butterfly flapped its wings in Minneapolis and set off hurricanes around the world.

I was alone at home on the east coast of the United States and assumed I would be protected. The hurricane grew in strength and blew my roof away. I thought my house was sturdy but in seconds, that privilege was gone. The strong winds and heavy downpour made me shivering wet, and I desperately sought shelter. Some individuals who had crossed paths with me at some point in my life huddled with me. Their umbrellas gave me some warmth and protected me from the onslaught of the hurricane. The storm seemed to go on forever but these people with their continued to shelter me with their umbrellas. 

Powerful people went on with life as usual in their homes, seemingly unaffected by the trauma around them. They did not come out of their homes to ask if I was okay; they only showed their philanthropy in places where they came off looking good. 

The rains stopped, but I and the people who sheltered with the umbrellas were still huddled together, surveying the devastation around us. We were cold, and we had some bruises; I struggled with injuries. This small group of people took care of me, and I did my best to be there for them. We wanted to help others around us, but we realized we needed to heal first; we had wounds, some were sick, there were multiple deaths around us, and injured people who stumbled and at times bumped into us causing us much pain.

We were clinging to each other. A few in the group left us as they dealt with their own problems or had others to care for in their communities. Those who stayed helped me get back into my home, my safe zone, and as I healed, I began to feel ready to step out, pick up the debris and clear up the land. Together we started talking about helping others around us.

We figured we needed to walk with all those who were grieving. Grief is strange; it makes people angry, sad, fearful, and act in ways that do not allow for thinking of the greater good. We realized we had to be compassionate. We also realized we need to have the courage to do the back-breaking work of cleaning up, knowing fully well that someone might inadvertently throw debris our way. Those who are injured do not have the strength to follow safety procedures.

Compassionate Courage was the need of the hour. We have rolled up our sleeves and are doing our best to clean up. We want to create structures that can better withstand the next storm. Better still, we want to change the climate so that such major hurricanes will not happen; we humans are responsible for the ill-treatment of this planet and the people that reside on it. 

I want to hear your hurricane story. I know that my colleagues are also eager to share their stories and listen to yours. Come join our space!