There is something special about sudden onset of bad weather. Bad weather is the reason why I traveled over an hour and a half barefoot. Walking through a large, probably very dirty city when only little puddles were left as a reminder of the thunderstorm that has passed. Interestingly I did not mind it. I was looked at as if not all the screws were, where they supposed to be. Funny I got more smiles that way then any other I have tried.
The weather was readying for this for some time before it happened. Clouds, change in lights hue, lack of wind. Instantly everything got wet. Seconds after the rain started the wind showed up just as if it wanted to show off its new car. You could hear it flying by roaring its engine, accelerating the water droplets to speeds no to shabby even by particle-physics standards. It was immersive and intense.
Something happened minutes after, something very profound and usually very rare. People as a whole got humbled. Scared, either dry or wet, all squeezed under anything that could provide shelter and watched as the wind played darts with the rain. Couples got closer, strangers made gestures of kindness, helping every way they couple people they wouldn’t even notice normally.
That is a good thing but I am worried about humanity. I am concerned about how much trust we put into our ability to control (everything).
Do we need reminders that we are mortal pieces of flesh? Is it only in situations of magnificent size, during which we are completely helpless that we are capable of caring? How can we survive, if the only time we are human is when we are reminded of our insignificance and the magnitude of the “problem” has gotten to Godly or Titanic (I do not mean the ship) proportions? We can be human to our fellow man but are we human, and if we are, what is it that we can say about ourselves as a whole, with dogmatic certainty?
[Dogma by definition means: a set of principles that are taken on faith as incontrovertibly true.]