An old familiar foe of mine appeared on my doorstep this past week. Dressed in black, wearing a smile, or rather, a sneer. It walked right in plopped down on the couch and flipped on CNN. There I found myself held hostage to the television set as I sat transfixed by the news of a devastating earthquake and tsunami in Japan. I’m not sure if it’s because by nature I’m a worrier, I have a bit of morbid curiosity, or if it’s because my uncle lives in Tokyo, but I couldn’t pull myself away from the TV as I felt the familiar feeling of fear start to seep into every fiber of my being.

We heard from my uncle pretty early on after the earthquake. He had gotten stuck on a commuter train in Tokyo for 90 minutes after the train had come to a sudden halt. They were then guided down an emergency stepladder and walked for a while until he reached a sidewalk another 300 meters away. He then walked the entire day only to return home to no running water but electricity that enabled him to write us an email. He said he was glad to be in Tokyo where they are “lucky to only have to deal with a major inconvenience”.

I grew up in California, which is pretty much, one giant earthquake zone. The largest earthquake I ever experienced was probably the 7.4 Northridge quake in southern California. Things got tossed around a bit in our house but we were okay. I was just a kid but I remember diving under our kitchen table. I think it is fairly normal to think about oneself in the wake of a big earthquake like the one in Japan. My fear about having something like that happen here was momentarily comforted by the fact that we have a earthquake preparedness kit. I won it from a silent auction last year and was so glad I did. Now we have everything we need in case of emergency, located in one large plastic storage container in our garage. However, topping my grocery list this weekend is bottled water and canned goods.

After learning my uncle was okay, I felt better. But fear was still hanging around with me. I couldn’t shake it that easily. I started to worry about things that I don’t normally worry about.

Fear was still with me as I thought about the fact that I don’t have a will and how my husband and I need to sit down and draft something out “just in case”. I am the kind of person who doesn’t like to talk about wills and “what if’s” because I used to believe that if you talk about those things it is like asking them to happen. Perhaps that superstitious thinking is still with me? As a parent, though, it seems to be the socially responsible thing to do to plan for worse case scenarios and think about whom we’d want to take care of our children should we die. Dwelling on it?  Well, that’s fear’s specialty.

I still couldn’t shake fear as it lingered through Wednesday. That was when I got a massive headache. Before I knew it I was envisioning myself dropping dead from a brain aneurism. But I laughed as I heard Arnold Schwarzenegger’s voice in my head say, “It’s not a tumor”. I took a few Advil after I realized that I didn’t have to be a martyr with my pain and from then I was able to move on.

Then the rest of the week was rounded out with some financial fears, a smattering of fear about Olivia’s kindergarten and whether or not she’ll get in, and some worry questioning Georgia’s school choice for next year. Awesome.

I hate fear. It’s a human feeling. It comes and it goes. For me it can be brought on by the slightest imbalance in sleep patterns or by hearing tragic news. I think that springing forward (read: weird sleeping patterns for both me and my kids) coupled with a tsunami was the perfect breeding ground for a fear fest this week.

Thankfully, I knew what was happening to me. I was on to that familiar foe before it got too comfortable in my head.  I turned off the television for a bit and gave my sensitive system a rest. My uncle keeps sending updates from Tokyo and last warned about the media saying “I imagine that some areas of the media have been given to some hyperbole and have reported panic rather than fact”.  He said that while many people are leaving Japan right now he is hoping that he can continue his work and record with his quintet (he’s a Jazz musician).

So, I kindly showed fear to the door and asked it to leave. I then resumed to find balance in my day. I did buy a few extra cans of food and will get some water for our stash just in case. But just for now, I’m going to trust that life will continue over at the Blaustein residence; where my walking 11 month old is about all the rampage I can handle really.