It really is overwhelming to think of the number of Americans whose lives have been utterly upended over recent months in floods, hurricanes and fires (and this is, of course, just the tip of the iceberg for what is happening worldwide.) There are so many issues facing these populations, yet I guess because of my life story the thing that most resonates is imagining the very moment people realize all they have left in the entire world is a purse full of important papers, a gym bag filled with clothes and an extra pair of running shoes, and a family photo or two. For many people, house is gone, a lifetime of accumulated possessions and family heritage is gone, workplace is gone, heck their bank may be gone and paychecks have stopped. Life will never be the same again. I doubt that many of them have ever read this blog, but I just want to say (as someone who has put herself through semi-voluntary huge transitions over and over) that my heart is with you at this moment, and I celebrate the person you are without any of the trappings. I celebrate the "you" who is driving away from the fire to an unknown destination, or scrambling for higher ground as the water rises, or hunkering down in a shelter on a cot just staring at the ceiling. I celebrate the "you" who is courageous right now, whether you feel that way or not. I celebrate the "you" who has, willingly or not, stepped out on a hero's or heroine's journey. Something new will come of all this, so just hang in there a day at a time. If there's anything to love in the current situation, love really is the only path through chaos. That has been my experience, anyway.
And if you can't find love, anything positive or likeable will do, somebody being kind or seeing a child play with a toy. Even something ridiculous or strange, like an "open" sign outside a building that is in ashes. Focus on it, not the tragedy -- if you possibly can. Don't "look down" quite yet. When you get to the other side to a safe place, you can tell the whole story.
