The warnings came days in advance. We were told to prepare, given checklists, and bombarded with advice on how to get ready. Stock up on food and water. Secure loose objects outside. Have a radio, torches, and batteries at the ready. I dutifully went through the motions, ensuring everything was in place. And then, we waited.
And waited.
The cyclone slowed down. It changed course. It wobbled indecisively, unsure where it wanted to make landfall. The waiting became the hardest part. Not because I was afraid—I wasn’t particularly worried about the cyclone itself. The forecast had it pegged at a level 2, not enough to devastate my home. Yet, despite being well-prepared and in no immediate danger, I found myself restless. Instead of using this unexpected pocket of time productively, I wasted it.
I wasted the time I had while we waited
I could have caught up on work. I could have tackled the never-ending list of household chores. I didn’t even do my favourite activity of reading. But instead, I found myself pacing, checking updates, and feeling the urge to do anything but sit still. The strangest part? I wanted to go out. I so much wanted to go to the coast and watch the surf. (I didn’t) I wanted to drive around, see what was happening, even though the advice was clear: stay put. It was as if some part of me needed to see the world reacting to this event, to witness it unfolding in real-time.
At first, I thought I was just being weird. Why was I behaving like this? But as I spoke with others, I realized I wasn’t alone. Many of them had felt the same strange restlessness. Some found themselves staring out the window as if expecting something to happen. Others, fought the impulse to leave the house, to chase some kind of tangible proof that something was actually happening. I did keep going to the supermarket, stocking up on even more supplies, but I behaved myself and only watched the surfing from my phone.
I began to wonder
I began to wonder—was this anxiety in disguise? I didn’t feel worried, but maybe, on some deeper level, I was. Or was it something else? Maybe it was the anticipation itself, the mix of uncertainty and excitement that comes with experiencing something new. I had never been through a cyclone before. What was it going to be like? Would the wind howl? Would the rain pummel the windows? Would there be a moment of eerie calm before the storm surged again?
Our preparations had been thorough. We had food and water. The torches and batteries were ready. There was nothing more to do but wait. And yet, waiting felt unbearable.
Reflecting on times when change is coming
It made me reflect on how we, as humans, deal with uncertainty. The cyclone was a perfect metaphor for those times in life when we know change is coming but have no control over how or when it will arrive. We prepare as best we can, but beyond that, we are left in limbo. And limbo is not a comfortable place to be.
I see it in other areas of life, too—waiting for medical results, waiting for a job interview callback, waiting for a decision that will shape our future. Even when we think we are fine, our minds rebel against the in-between. We crave movement, action, certainty.
The storm blew over
In the end, the cyclone passed with minimal impact. The storm came and went, leaving us mostly untouched. We now face days of rain, and the possibility of flooding is still real. But flooding is normal where I live. The house is above the flood level and will be fine. Some don’t have electricity, but there is a large team that were prepared and are already working on fixing the problem. (thankyou Energex) Life is already returning to normal, and I am left reflecting on how I had spent those days of waiting.
What would I do differently next time?
Perhaps I’d remind myself that waiting doesn’t have to be wasted time. Maybe I’d channel that nervous energy into something productive. Or maybe I’d simply acknowledge that restlessness is natural and allow myself to feel it without judgment.
Because sometimes, the storm outside isn’t nearly as unsettling as the storm within.
(I am aware that this is my experience and that many homes did lose power and the many communities in Northern NSW have been badly affected. I am also very concerned for the communities around Lismore that have been devastated by previous floods and are still trying to recover and are now facing more flooding. The stress and worry they have been facing are much greater, and having to leave your home, knowing that it is likely to be flooded is heartbreaking)
I’m offering my services for free
If anyone is feeling unsettled or anxious from this or any other experience, I am offering my services for free to help you cope with all the emotions that come with unknows and with change.
Contact me and we will set up a time that works.
Kay x