Choosing Calm

Given the time and place of my birth (and residence thereafter), I was not likely to ever hear an air raid siren. Nor did I.

There's an expression in Hebrew: משנה מקום משנה מזל -- if you change your place, you'll change your luck. Well, in this case, I would hope not.

But....I now have a gas mask in my house (though, thankfully, I have never opened the box, and I pray that I will never have reason to do so). And today, while in the Old City of Jerusalem, I heard a unidentified siren for what must have been a minute or two, but maybe felt longer at the time.

Apparently, it was a drill of some kind.

At the time, I was with a number of 18-year-old girls. They did not react with equanimity, but scurried out of the room, and then stopped, unsure of what to do next (hey, it's better than hiding under the desk when that's not protocol, I suppose).

The adults on the scene (me and a friend) looked at each other, and acknowledged to each other that we didn't know what the siren was about. Hypothetically, it was a nerve-wracking situation. Especially since my friend is usually notified when the powers-that-be are conducting drills. The fact that she didn't know about it advance suggested...ideas that we didn't want to think about.

Still, I choose calm (or want to). Today, I did. I ushered the nervous girls back into the room. I assured them that we shouldn't worry (it wouldn't do any good, even if there had - God forbid - been reason for it). And we continued what we'd be doing.

Indeed, it was a drill of some kind.

The irony is that earlier today, I was given excellent advice about defusing a different kind of alarm - namely, don't react, but remain calm. I like the plan. It's a good choice.