AS the ground trembles and buildings sway, as cries of panic echo across streets once filled with the humdrum of everyday life, we are reminded of one uncomfortable truth: we are not in control.
The recent earthquake that struck Myanmar and Thailand is a stark reminder of nature’s untamed power and our own vulnerability.
Even as we grieve with those mourning the loss of loved ones, even as we send condolences and aid to the afflicted, we must pause to reflect on the greater message beneath the rumble of shifting plates.
There is a lesson etched into the cracks and ruins, whispered through the tremors—life is fragile, and the illusion of control is just that—an illusion.
Yet, we foolishly go about life, building barns to store our grain, accumulating wealth, hoarding possessions, and clutching onto our little empires as if we were immortals immune to nature’s whims.
We pile up treasures on earth where moth and rust destroy, and where thieves break in and steal—or, in this case, where the ground itself betrays us.
Perhaps the earthquake is a reminder to let go of the things we grip so tightly and instead hold fast to gratitude, kindness, and humility.
To our leaders who strut on the world stage, puffed up with power, the earthquake offers a lesson in humility.
As skyscrapers sway and palaces tremble, the illusion of control crumbles.
You may dictate laws, sway economies, and command armies, but can you silence the rumble of the earth?
Can you tame the wind, halt the floods, or chain the lightning?
Nature’s fury does not discriminate; rulers and ruled alike are shaken.
Perhaps, instead of ruling with iron fists and insatiable greed, there could be governance with compassion and wisdom, realizing power is borrowed and temporary.
And to all of us who wander through life distracted by the trivial and mundane, perhaps the quake is a jolt, a wake-up call.
A reminder that every breath is a gift, every sunrise a blessing.
We are fragile beings on a trembling rock, and the earth is not ours to command.
Shouldn’t we live each day with thankfulness, savoring moments instead of rushing through them?
The earthquake has spoken—its voice a rumble beneath our feet.
It reminds us that judgment comes unannounced, without warning.
We are called to live humbly, love deeply, and tread lightly.
Let’s listen before the earth speaks again.
Listen, to the earth quake..!
—(bobsbanter@gmail.com)
