I wasn’t planning to write a column about the fires. What is there to say? All of us in Santa Monica saw the thick plumes of smoke as well as the photos of what remains beneath them. All of us lived through the expanding evacuation orders (and warnings). And all of us are lucky, because we didn’t lose our homes here. But most of us lost something else: our sense of safety.
Safety was a key issue in the recent local election. Who would have guessed how quickly we would redefine it? Homelessness suddenly became a very different kind of threat as we witnessed the obliteration of Pacific Palisades. Of course, the reality is that Santa Monica doesn’t have the same level of geographical fire risk, but were we willing to count on a cataclysmic wildfire being rational?
Unlike our northern neighbors, many of us in Santa Monica had the luxury of getting to decide whether to evacuate. However, selecting what belongings we considered most “valuable” may have been the most challenging part for those of us fortunate enough to have the time to do so. I personally felt a sense of inertia set in as I deliberated between taking my great-grandmother’s candlesticks or a box of Super 8 films from my childhood. (I chose the candlesticks.)
It was exhausting merely contemplating the worst-case scenario, which seemed unimaginable, though it’s questionable if it should have been so unimaginable. It’s not like this was the first time that events beyond our control have exposed our vulnerability. There was 9/11. There was COVID. And, of course, there have been previous fires. To live in California is to accept the vagaries of nature’s tempestuousness and to always be prepared for the ground to shift beneath us.
We know what it feels like for the earth to convulse and force us to acknowledge the ephemeral nature of everything in our lives. But that feeling isn’t unique to people residing in a seismic zone. Being human means repeatedly enduring unexpected upheaval, and, fittingly, I’m writing this column before the 47th President is inaugurated, with no way of predicting what that will portend. We never know what’s coming around the corner. Sometimes quite literally.
Nine years ago I was run over by a double-decker bus while crossing a street in New York City (on a green light in a crosswalk). I wasn’t expected to live. I ended up in the ICU for three months and returned to the hospital for additional surgeries over the following year. My doctors told me it was unlikely I’d keep my legs and almost impossible that I’d ever walk again unassisted, which makes my current runs along the Santa Monica beach doubly gratifying. Fortunately, it’s not just negative surprises waiting around the corner for us, but also positive ones.
I would never recommend being plowed down by a 30,000-pound vehicle, but I learned a lot from my experience. One of the things I learned is that everyone feels like they’ve been run over by a bus at some point in their lives. I also learned that although we have little control over the calamities we suffer, we have great control over our reaction.
It’s healthy to grieve for what we’ve lost, including our sense of security. And it’s natural to be scared of the challenges we face, but we should also be grateful for the opportunity to face them. I don’t pretend that my experience is the equivalent of Angelenos who have lost everything this month, but a crucial fact is that they haven’t lost “everything,” as long as they and their loved ones are still alive.
Winston Churchill said “Never let a good crisis go to waste.” I don’t want to diminish in any way the anguish people are experiencing, but there will also be opportunities for growth, as individuals and as a community. It’s not a guarantee, and there’s already finger pointing and price gouging. But there’s also generosity and resilience.
One last thing I learned in the hospital is that we never know what we’re capable of until we’re tested. I started a habit back then of making a weekly silent prayer. I’m not sure if it was to God or the universe or maybe it was just to myself. But I prayed to be stronger, wiser, and kinder. I still pray for the same things, but this week I’m praying for all of us.
