Wild Fires

I'm tired but I felt the need to write. 

I'm tired. Did I already say that? There's a fire not far from here. In fact its a short drive away. It's not held. Parts of it are. But it has remained the same for a bit now. 

I've watched and heard of thousands of evacuations and up to 200 homes lost. The devastation has been huge. I watched the news religiously in the beginning as the fire jumped the lake to devour communities not even 12 minutes away. To say I was scared was an understatement. City council was telling everyone with our city to be ready. We got packed and took precautions, but the enormity of what it meant to be prepared and cautious didn't hit me till I went to charge our car and get some supplies. I walked out of our apartment building and saw layers of brown smoke set its haze upon everything. I couldn't see the mountains, I couldn't see the typical landmarks, and what unnerved me the most was that I couldn't see the fire. There was just smoke and beyond that uncertainty. Wide eyed drivers in each car I passed told me I wasn't alone in this fight or flight. 

When I pulled out onto the road several pieces of large black ash fell in front of the car. And the deeper I went into the city the more orange and brown the smoke became. I called my partner and in my panic was like, "Ya, fuck this. We are out of here." I told him to get the kids packed. We made a plan to chill with some family elsewhere until these now three and growing fires were under control.

Panic is a funny thing. You think you are thinking clearly when it sets in. You feel maybe even valid in your thought process. Like, "I know better. There's danger. Must run." And in some cases yes. That is what you do. But I grew up in a family of doomsdayers. I went into, this is it, this is the end. We went to chill with family and I took a minute to pause.

I went to a 12 step meeting. lol. At the end of that meeting a couple things became super clear. 

1. Pausing is important.

2. I'm not in control of anything other than me. 

Now, that second one hit me like a ton of fucking bricks. Which is weird because I've known this for a very long time, but have never fully felt the weight of what it means. I, for a very long time, have liked to be two moves ahead of everything that could possibly happen. It's one of the things that feeds my indecisiveness. I don't like to feel scared, feel pain, or be in any sort of uncertainty. I like to be in control. And this fire has been a reminder that I control fuck all, other than myself. 

We decided after our brief chill time with family that we would head home. We weren't and haven't been under any alert or order to evacuate for our neighborhood. 

Everyday, alerts and orders are being rescinded. But the fire across the lake still burns. And I have to sit with that. I have to breathe through it, yoga my way through it, accept it, and keep on living. Danu is a mother entity I go to often and her work with me has taught me several things. In the depths of uncertainty there is a time for stillness and if you lean into being still, you can weather anything. 

So that's what I've been doing. Leaning into the stillness. Letting revelations hit me as they come and staying in my body. Letting shit go. And moving. Putting one foot in front of the other and reminding myself that I am in this moment and this moment is eternal. 

Love to all.