For those of you just catching up, my family and I evacuated to Lodi, California last Sunday when the Northern California wildfires first struck in our hometown of Santa Rosa.
Seven days later and we are still here in Lodi, but packing up to go home to what is left of the town and surrounding communities.
Lodi is just 2 hours away, but here, you would never suspect that anything is amiss back at home. The skies here are blue, the air is fresh, and nothing is on fire.
Our little clan has much anxiety around going home for obvious reasons. What will it be like? When will it feel normal to live there again? How can we go to work if the kids aren’t in school and our nannies are still evacuated? How to we get the utilities turned back on? Do we really need a gas mask? These are all very valid questions and concerns. But what about the seemingly trivial ones?
My morning meditation was plagued with these. A list of questions an concerns harassed me today as I began to anticipate the return home. And they made me feel like a real shit head for thinking them. For example,
“I wonder if my dry cleaner burned down; I have those meetings next week and I really need those dresses.”
Will Amazon still deliver to my house? If not, when will they resume that service?
“I hope I don’t have to start using a different grocery story; it is a complete pain to learn where things are in other stores.”
This can’t be who I am, right? People have lost their lives, homes, and livelihoods, and I’m worried about my work wardrobe, two day shipping, and finding a new milk aisle.
Maybe it’s just too much to even comprehend from this far away. Hopefully, when I’m home and faced with the reality of what happened there, I can be the person who finds meaningful ways to contribute and rebuild.
This article originally published on www.groundingup.com
