What did I have in mind when I was imagining the cabin times? Sunshine? Friends and family? Zooming along the water? Parked on the beach with a book? Sitting around a fire? BBQs? Yes all that! I always want to do all that! I didn't count on fire season. I've not mentioned it, but I'm a lifelong non-smoker-never having been a fan of polluting my lungs...So we brought ourselves to this! Ai.
No Open Fires.
Extreme Fire Hazard.
Air Quality Index.
Constricting airways.
I thought I left that all behind when we moved out of Santiago. Air quality issues in the prairies?!! Bad joke. But so serious... So serious I was wishing we'd left a couple weeks later, as the weather was great where we just left. I felt very silly as it was, because I love where we live, and I love the cabin, and I'm not silly enough to think we can be both places at once...but I am exactly silly enough to have that thought flit through my head.
I think I shall call it a side effect of moving around a lot. There's a certain amount of mental relief in wishing for things that make no sense-if just for the exercise of acknowledging the paradox of loving where you are, where you've been, and where you're going - right along with missing wherever you aren't, and whoever you're not with!
I've found a few solutions; some of them even work. Haul your people with you. Haul yourself to your people. Perhaps the most important one is enjoying wherever I'm at, and what I'm doing, along with looking forward to whatever's next. And...ironically, making sure I have a few moments on my own to recharge is crucial--without it, I feel like I'm only half-there, in every sense of presence...
Keeping a sense of humour...it's a bit tough sometimes. Take the breathing for example--laughing over how many trips to the pharmacy to get whatever the next level medication is...started with the neti pot. Then a nasal decongestant. Etc.... but I drew the line at Prednisone. Still, it's comforting to know there are still more options, should I continue to inhale forest fires.
Perspective is all to easy to find in all of this--when I think of the people evacuated. Thinking of the fire firefighters. Thinking of the homes and pets lost. Thinking of the unsettled kids in the emergency centres. Observing the incredible kindnesses happening. Which brings me to what I saw the other evening, while I was waiting for a prescription...
I was picking up a coffee for Mom and I (remember "haul your people with you")-- for the drive to the lake. I had my giant box of blueberries, bananas, and greens in my insulated bag, hanging off my arm, waiting for my decaf. Wailing...wailing....closer wailing.... There was a group of moms, and whether or not they were from a centre or not, I don't know...but this is about the kindness. So the girl's about three, gulping with sobs...There were three ladies, two strollers, and three very young walkers. The wailer was one of them. Her face was a teary, gooey, reddened mess, so clearly, she'd been wailing for a while.
Instead of impatience, in response to the stress of walking with toddlers and having one of them go to pieces...The whole group came over, parked their strollers near a table, and most of them went on for their groceries. One of the ladies sat down, pulled the wailer onto her lap, and pulled her into a hug while speaking to her softly. The wailing slowed...breathing was overtaking her crying, and I missed whatever went on, because I didn't want to stare, but when I looked back-- She was counting down from five...and by the time she got to zero, the girl was all put back together. Without being too dramatic- it was a beautiful moment.
Dealing with disasters is a lot about ugly things happening, but I heard many years ago that Mr. Rogers - the cardigan one, not the media one - had said the only way to get through disasters was to look for the people helping...and I've seen a lot of it here.
Cheers and chao!
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