One of the symptoms of an approaching nervous breakdown is the belief that one's work is terribly important. ~Bertrand Russell

Everyone freaks out a little sometimes.

Right?

I know I'm not alone in feeling horror - incredible heaps of helplessness - after watching the fallout from the earthquakes and Tsunami in Japan. Those of us who are lucky enough to be safe, dry and far away from the center of the disaster can't jump in and do something immediately to help. Aside from donating money and other hands-off, yet completely wonderful and necessary things.

I have been watching Twitter like a hawk since the morning the Tsunami hit. Every 20 minutes, another news organization is reporting on a possible meltdown at the nuclear power plant, a house floating in the sea water or a man who somehow survived under piles of rubble for days.

And I can do nothing to help. I mean to get my hands dirty - to strap on my galoshes and get outside and look for survivors. Or help to prepare meals in a shelter. Nothing.

Instead, I clean my bathroom. I clean my bathroom with a ferocity worthy of a champion maid service. This. This, I can do right now. I can make this better. That sink is going to SPARKLE. But it's not helping. I'm sorry Japan is so far away - and that their cleanup and recovery is going to be such a big job.

The moments when I really get down, feeling helpless, I remind myself to cherish every second I have here on this planet. Friday afternoons spent between my living room and my now sparkling bathroom become much more meaningful.

I cuddle with my dog a bit more, say hello to friends the second they cross my mind, and continue to freak out. Just a little. I'm not ready to lose all of this. I wish no one else had to lose everything before they were ready either.