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By Ibrahim Mutili

Such is the power of the world. The instant we consider ourselves immortal, when we are buoyed by the belief that no matter what we will survive, we will thrive, and we will conquer—that is the moment when we are tested. Our challenge to the world—a challenge embodied even just by the fact that we are alive, and happy, and successful, and thriving—is put to the test in a duel with nature. It’s a tragic, unfair fight, like a duel between an archer and a guy with a grenade. Nature always wins. And to make its point it wins by a massive margin. It does not just blow off your hand with the grenade. It blows off your hand, then your leg, then your ear, then your heart, then your head.

Perhaps the most comforting or the most frightening thing is that this side of nature (like any side of nature) is unfeeling. Nature—or God—or the ocean lords—or the physics of the waves (however you choose to see it), do not actively attack humans because they harbor ill will against them. Nature does not gather its waves to sculpt 10-meter-high waves out of spite; it does not flood half a continent or enflame an entire city on some quest for revenge.

This same nature is the nature I see outside of my window this sun-kissed morning along the Mediterranean. It’s the same nature that is surrounding your own home; perhaps with brilliant blue or soothing gray skies, perhaps with wildflowers that are peeking from between the trees and ferns, perhaps with vibrant birdcalls and lovely plumage. The waters that churn up a tempest are the same waters you float upon on a calm summer’s day; the energy for the fire which consumes your house is the same energy that warms your hearth and your heart in the dead of winter.

It is not nature’s fault, for there is not fault in nature but the physical faults of its tectonic pieces. That is perhaps the blessing and the curse of such a catastrophe: there is no one to blame. There is only the immense tragedy, the endless tears, the lingering sorrow, the breathtaking toil on human life and accomplishment, and the tiny flickering hope for a resurrected tomorrow.

Prayers for Japan.

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