It is no surprise, as a Southern Louisiana-born and raised woman, that treacherous waters haunt my dreams and color my reactions to hurricanes. Every year, I’m plagued by fear, anxiety, and doubts the second a tropical storm comes rolling into the gulf. This year has been different. Maybe it's maturity, maybe it's the healing that comes with time, maybe it's some magical energy Francine is stirring up. Despite the destruction I’ve endured, as Francine currently makes landfall, all I feel is calm.
For the past few days, my mind has been flooded with Hurricane Francine. Everyone and their momma is chatting --“It’s no big deal. She’s only a category two,” or “We’re on her bad side.” All the while, the only thing I can think about is how far removed we’ve become from the forces of nature. These days, everyone only ever talks about hurricanes, never to them. Francine wants to change that. Since her sudden appearance in the gulf, Francine has been whispering to me, bringing some questions and deep insights to the swampy surface.
What is the Origin of the Word “Hurricane?”
Hurricanes have the forces of water, wind, tornadoes, and floods on their side, making them the most destructive natural disasters on the planet. Even more reason to speak kindly of them and throw respect their way… From the beginning of time, hurricanes’ destructive nature has inspired praise, worship, and fear in the people who crossed their path.
Greek Mythology
The ancient Greeks believed hurricanes were the love children of the sky god, Uranus, and the earth goddess, Gaia: the Hecatoncheires, made up of Cottus, Briareus, and Gyges. The Hecatoncheires were three monstrous gods, each with fifty heads and one hundred arms. Uranus cast the brothers into the underworld out of fear. Zeus, the sky and thunder god called upon Hecatoncheires to help in the war against the Titans, bringing them up from the underworld. In war, Hecatoncheires would throw stones with their many arms. After winning the war, Hecatoncheires were given underwater palaces and enlisted to wreak havoc in the form of hurricanes on mortals at the will of the Greek gods.
Indigenous Caribbean Mythology
Meanwhile, in the Caribbean, the Indigenous Taíno people give us the root of the word hurricane. These people of the Greater Antilles identified a different god within hurricanes. The Taíno people named their storm deity Juracán, very similar to Huracan, the Mayan people’s god of wind. The word “Huracan” combines “hura,” meaning wind, and “kan,” meaning center. This is no coincidence -- the center of the wind is the destructive goddess in Taíno mythology. Of course, with much of the world’s indigenous culture, organized civilians adopted the Indigenous Taíno’s term and ran with it. The Spanish began to describe the storms as “huracán” and “furacán,” spreading the lingo to Europe and then into the Americas.
Louisiana Hurricane Lore
"When I die, I take the whole town with me,” echoes over the small town of Frenier outside of New Orleans. Lore claims that Julia Brown, a Hoodoo priestess, called in a deadly hurricane following her death in 1915. Known for her folk magic and melodic tunes, Brown is said to have cursed her hometown, welcoming a hurricane to carry her into the afterlife. Brown died of natural causes, but on the day of her funeral on September 29th, a hurricane devastated Frenier, leaving it to the alligators. At the time, many feared intuitive notions, land-owning Black women, witchy practices, and the unfamiliar religions of Hoodoo and Voodoo. Who’s to say Brown was doing any harm at all? Despite it all, this lore still floats around and remains one of the most popular hurricane myths in Louisiana.
What Symbolism is Associated with Hurricanes?
People tie many meanings, literal and spiritual, to hurricanes. Whether you believe hurricanes are a divine act, a punishment, or a way to unify communities, there’s one hard truth to face: no matter where a hurricane falls, there is devastation, loss, and fear. It's easy to get lost in the flowery spiritual symbolism online when you’re safe and sound with electricity, water, and food. We can’t bypass the reality, but diving into the deeper symbolism of hurricanes can help us process our experiences with them.
The Spiral
The spiral is quite popular in the spiritual world, with meanings around the symbol itself and the natural elements it appears in. Seashells, DNA, spiderwebs, and, of course, hurricanes embody the spiral’s shape and energy, but the spiral’s meaning gets more dense. Many cultures associate the spiral with the cycle of life: birth, growth, and death. Let’s bring this concept a bit higher, closer to the divine. Spirals represent the journey from the outside world, or ego, into the soul, where the divine lives. This spiritual journey often involves ascension, spiraling inward, and regression within advancement -- all depicted within the spiral. The spiral is an evolution, bringing one closer to the spirit through change and transmission.
In the presence of hurricanes, we are forced to face fear, embrace stillness, and relinquish control -- a push deeper into the spiral of our spiritual journeys.
What Does Hurricane Francine Teach Us?
Sometimes hurricanes cause a flood of incessant chatter and fear-mongering online and a tornado of people bombarding grocery stores to buy more supplies than needed. On the other hand, hurricanes force people together. All my group chats become filled with well wishes and offers to host or feed whoever needs it. Neighbors check in and reassure us that all our preparation efforts are solid.
In a short two-day span, Hurricane Francine has caused chaos, unity, hate, love, anxiety, surrender, and, most importantly, whispers of change. Francine tells me that we are the charioteers of our experiences, and we hold the reins on our emotions. Whether you direct them toward love community or fear and hate, change is still coming. Watching the raging waters and the shifting winds, I realize there is only one thing to do in the face of change: receive with immense respect, trust, and love.
We must welcome the invitation to follow the hurricane-like spirals into the deepest parts of ourselves. Come on in, Francine!