Heart of Sonoma

I see fire.

Orange is the new black and inner peace is the new success, am I right?

Mental health a clear cornerstone in that peace.

My postpartum depression bi-polar craziness surely has been a fantastic catalyst for stirring the pot that’s been holding all my long-forgotten emotional baggage.

Clearing the way to build a better foundation for myself, my growing family & community.

However, becoming a mother is only one piece of the story that ultimately changed my view of the world.

As our black October skies glow orange with fire once again, I find myself pulled back in time – waking up to the whipping wind that would change all of us two years ago.

I was fortunate.

No one was banging on my door in the middle of the night. I did not awaken to flames outside my window. I did not have to gather my children or buffer their fears. I did not have to leave my pets behind. I was not chased out of my house with nothing but the clothes on my back.

I had time.

In the uncertainty, smoke & echoed explosions – my family made the choice to evacuate.

We had a choice.

The guilt that remains wants to say that I didn’t lose anything because my house and neighborhood remain intact.

But the truth is, that fire split me open in ways I’d never known before.

As my family buzzed around trying to determine where the fires were coming from & what to pack – the homes of our friends and family were already gone.

50 mph winds pushed fire & debris through the lives and neighborhoods of Santa Rosa and our beautiful countryside.

That night we all added ‘fire storm’ to our collective dictionary.

And I, for one, will never be the same.

In those moments of upheaval, when the possibilities were open and we could lose everything in the heat from that night I don’t think I’ve ever been more scared.

I walked around my home and cataloged a lifetime of memories in physical form.

Searching for meaning in these objects I called life…

Gathering treasures that might ease my pain & help me rebuild should it all go up.

I took my favorite painting, the sterling silver, and my big wooden spoon.

I couldn’t figure out what else to bring.

We drove with gas & room in our cars.

I watched the news coverage, glued to social media feeds searching for something that might lend a clue to when things would go back to normal.

Those weeks felt endless.

But you know what? Just like some kind of magic, I could hear Mister Rogers telling me to look for the helpers. (thank you nana & PBS)

And I’ll be damned if he didn’t nail that one right on the head. There they were. In force.

As our community began rising from the wreckage – I saw love in a way I had never seen before.

Love that was so loud in this town that, even if just for a moment, it drowned out the fear and the sadness and the unimaginable loss.

The world was with us. Selfless firefighters flew across the country and literally ran IN to hell to rescue us. Chefs organized to feed us. Churches prayed for our hearts & safety. Neighbors near & far opened their homes to families they’d never met before.

The LOVE for humanity came pouring out of us like water.

That fire connected me to people in the most authentic way – it helped me to see that underneath it all – when we’re in the middle of a fire storm – we are all the same.

I was fortunate. I came home to a house. I placed my painting back on the wall, put the silver in the drawer and returned my wooden spoon to the copper canister.

We began again.

As this comes around, and we relive those days that we are still healing from, I can’t help but remember all that love that joined us together when we needed it most.

I’m grateful for the gentle lesson that these material objects do not make up my life.

I’m grateful for the new tools in my Mental Toolbox to call on during the most challenging storms – knowing now with certainty that when we fall – the world will catch us.

The people will catch us.

We, the people, will pour our love out to one another – and rebuild.

Stronger than ever. Cleared from the noise & debris that blocked us from what is at the heart of this wild ride we call life – and that my friends is each other.

Crazy things happen folks, it’s what we do afterward that counts.

We got this & my heart is with you.