The Hurricane That Reset My Map 🌀
In September 2024, one of the deadliest hurricanes in U.S. history ravaged the mountains of Western North Carolina, with its epicenter in the town I have called home for the past decade. In a single day, my life and familiar reality—along with those of thousands of others—were washed away.
I woke up in my rental apartment in a rural area just outside of Asheville, in Canton, on September 26th, as hurricane Helene reached its peak. My apartment perched on stilts next to a creek, was suddenly inside a raging river. The water rose rapidly, climbing to nearly ten feet and reaching my window. I was alone, trapped inside the apartment, unable to escape as stormy waters surrounded me on all sides of the house. Within minutes, I watched the river rise from the ground to my door, then to my window.
Trapped inside the apartment, I watched everything under the sky float by – from trees, fence posts, animals, car tires, furniture, and more. A giant fence post floating in the river hit the house and knocked down the HVAC unit just outside my bedroom. I had no way of knowing if the house would withstand the storm or float down the river, as so many others did.
It was one of the most terrifying experiences of my life. I was completely helpless and unable to swim my way through or escape. With nobody around I called 911 just before cell phone networks were lost. I prayed and cried. My whole life flashed before my eyes. I did not wanna die this way. Not drowning in a muddy, polluted river by myself. I frantically searched for anything I could float on, knowing I could be minutes away from being submerged.
No rescue mission was able to get anywhere close to the property, as everything was inside a raging river. Bridges had fallen, trees and power lines were coming down every few minutes. Needless to say, no rescue operation ever took place. I went through the experience alone and without being able to reach the outside world, as power and cell phone networks went down for a week.
In my years of living around the world, and having gone through all kinds of crazy situations, I have never experienced this level of destruction and terror. It was a close call. By some miracle, the water stopped rising when the rain finally eased. Power, water, and cell phone signals were lost for a week or more. Roads were destroyed and washed away. Fallen trees and power lines blocked access everywhere, and many of us had no clean drinking water, or food left after a few days.
I was able to get some food and bottled water from a neighbor who had extra supplies, in order to survive that week. Gas stations were shut down along with grocery stores, as entire cities were out of power. I cooked outside on campfire for a week, and had no access to clean water. I had no idea when I would be able to have power, potable water, or phone network again.
An utter state of chaos, despair, and panic lasted for weeks. After nearly two months, the city was finally able to restore potable water. For a week we had no way reaching the outside world, family or friends, as all cell phone networks in the area were down and nobody had power. The worst part of the experience was not being able to reach my family, to let them know I had survived, or friends in the area to see if they were alright.
The storm left behind unimaginable destruction in its wake. Not having access to potable water for two months, and being exposed to contaminants that got into the rivers everywhere, left behind a wake of toxic mud and a wide spread health crisis in the area. Those of us that had to wade through heavily flooded areas, and do mud cleanup after, got exposed to hazardous chemical spills, which we only learned about afterwards, when communication was restored.
The aftermath of a major disaster can last for months, and sometimes even, years. I know from my own experience that the psychological repair alone will take time. In the months directly following the hurricane I struggled with high anxiety levels, PTSD, survival guilt, confusion, and depression, all of which are natural responses following a major trauma. I am grateful to be alive to share this story with you, although traumatized and heartbroken by all the tragic loss and destruction around.
It took me two months to finally be able to share my story with you. 😓 The life and career I had spent a decade building was washed away in a day. I’ve gone through many gradual losses and rebirths in this life, but losing everything in such a shocking way, overnight was not something that I could have ever imagined. Here I am, back on the same path I walked nearly fifteen years ago (2010), when I first launched my website in Mexico—a wandering dervish in need of deep rest and healing.
The Lesson..
If there’s any spiritual gold I’ve gleaned from this experience, it is that ultimately, we have no control over what happens. The Source is in control. My ego may think I have control, but experience shows me otherwise. After two near death experiences, and surviving a category four hurricane in the mountains, I know deep down in my bones, that God/Source/Brahman, whatever name you wanna give this great mystery, is ultimately in control.
Suffering is the great catalyst for awakening. As the lotus rises from the mud, so does the human realization. I believe all major events in our lives are planned before we enter this life, as map points to help us evolve. I know that no matter how gruel the storm, it is always a wake up call of some sort – an opportunity to begin again, with less baggage. Eventually, life peels away anything that we are not, until only truth remains.
When we realize that Source is ultimately in control, we stop fighting against the turbulent tides and begin to align more with divine flow. The storms of the world don’t disappear, but our inner response changes. In the classical teachings of Advaita Vedanta, thousands of years old Hindu philosophy, it is taught that God, or Brahman alone is the doer. The world is chaos and turbulence, but why fret when you know that ultimately God is in control? Beyond this realm of suffering, beyond the ego’s identification with control and doership, lies the infinitely still waters of our true nature.
Love, Aleeiah
Image of Lotus flower by me.
