Which Way Will the Wind Blow?

Southern California is erupting in fires and the gale-force devil winds aren’t helping. We still have a few more days of uncertainty ahead as the winds continue to howl. Where will the next spark land? I am not in immediate danger, but as an empath, I’m having serious anxiety as everyone’s panic and worry increases, my own included. The skies are a sullen orange and filled with smoke.

We find ourselves in a historic period of extreme natural disasters. There can be no denying, Mother Earth is seriously pissed off. Yes, there is a bigger picture we are being forced to face and we must, but for today, it’s personal. There’s fire danger in every direction! I’m on high alert! We are at the mercy of the which way the wind will blow. There is a metaphor in there, I’m sure, but it escapes me at the moment.

Unlike some natural disasters, there’s no prediction for where and when a fire will erupt. You can prepare, limit your risk and pray it won’t in your area. Not yours, today, please God?

But what if?

I look around my home to decide what I should do in case it does land at my front door. What do I need to locate, organize and pack? I find myself wishing I had been a little more careful with my paperwork. It seems to be as scattered as my thoughts.

What is important? What do I need? What is it I care about?

Unlike the families that have only minutes to evacuate, I have the luxury of giving these questions some thought.

What do I value? What can I not live without? Why didn’t I get organized earlier?

Some things I value are easy to identify – anything with legs gets top priority, whether they have two or four. So long as my loved ones are safe, myself included, the list is amazingly short. I walk around my house and take a survey. It’s mostly stuff, and stuff becomes surprisingly unimportant. There’s always more stuff available.

Memories are what make stuff important. Such as the tiny, hand-painted ceramic jar, the only thing I have from my grandparents. It is truly unremarkable, but priceless to me. My grandfather loved to tell me the story of how his girlfriend made it for him, and she was not my grandmother. The fact that my grandmother kept it on her kitchen counter, filled with toothpicks, tells me she was not threatened by this girlfriend in the least. It always makes me smile with the love it represents.

And then there’s this inlaid wooden box I keep my jewelry in. This box comes from a market in Afghanistan. When I was a teenager living in Iran, my mother organized tours for the bored American housewives. On this trip to Afghanistan and Pakistan, I got to tag along. We had an unforgettable journey that included the stunningly beautiful, but now Taliban-razed, giant Buddhas of the Bamiyan Valley, a moonlit trip through the Khyber Pass and memories of a dozen amazingly bold and brazen women, unafraid of damned near anything. Some day I will write more about these women, but suffice to say, to an impressionable teenager, they showcased female empowerment to me. But I digress from the story of my jewelry box.

I wanted to buy my mother a gift, so we went our separate ways in the Kabul bazaar. I wandered the entire warren before ferreting out this beautiful handcrafted inlaid wooden box, large enough to hold my mother’s jewelry. The work was exquisite, I loved it, and it was perfect for her. Later that night, as I proudly presented my mother with her gift, she laughed. I was taken aback until she turned to show me the gift she had bought me – the exact same box. I am certain there were only two in that entire bazaar, the odds were laughable, and laugh we did. The jewelry in my box is of varying value, but the box is beyond worth to me.

As I wander my house, I find similar treasures, all filled with memories of people I love and places I’ve visited. My heart is full as I realized how blessed my life has been. While things are representative of my blessings, their real residence is in my heart. No disaster can take that from me, whichever way the wind blows.

Sending love to all who are in harm’s way today and every day.