It’s 2024 and the world is on fire. Not in the hip Gen-Z “that’s fire-emoji” kind of way, but in the more traditional “we should be worried” understanding of fire.
While the world burns, we’re left feeling helpless under the impending threat of fascism, state-sponsored genocide, and a daily barrage of hate under all the far-right’s favorite -isms. I felt the cornfields closing in around me, so I packed up what seemed important to the new me and moved.
And that’s how I plan to survive another year.
“You can survive if you take precautions and act quickly, calmly, and confidently,” The Urban Survivalist encourages in How to Survive a Wildfire. The irony of comparing life to a wildfire in a blog created to inspire hope does not escape me. C’est la Vie.
Act quickly.
This move was different than those spontaneous cross-county relocations of my life past; I planned ahead and more importantly, I was sober. I spent months interviewing for and making arrangements to start a better job. A job just a few-minutes’ walk from my new adorable brick row house I justified as I tried to brace myself for the gut-punch of moving costs.
I have nothing but love for the nonprofit I left, but my new agency takes it to a whole different level. Most of the highest ups seem to fully support employee wellness. What’s more is that working specifically in learning and development, I get to be a part of that initiative. I feel valued and trusted. We also offer trainings about mental health, trauma-informed care, and combating racism. I am encouraged to continue learning and even incorporate some yoga into our “wellness hour.” Plus, there are SO many windows in my office on the river and the vibe with my team makes it hard to not just call them friends. I can’t believe this is really my job.
Act confidently.
It took moving to a different light to realize my wounds were healing. I can see where scars will protect my tenderness. As I trace trauma through the places I’ve healed, my strength surprises me. For the past three years, I’ve challenged my beliefs and balance, my mental and physical flexibility, and if we’re honest, my very identity. I literally look stronger and thus, I feel more confident. The work for me has been recovery, yoga, and therapy. I’ve learned to let go and mean what I say. I try to speak and move with intention and awareness, not hiding who I am, but leaning into the fullest expression of myself.
Why not? I’m essentially starting over. My kids deserve to see a mom move through the world, to protect them, teach them how to overcome challenges with dignity, pride, and grace. To “take precautions and act quickly, calmly, and confidently.”
Can’t drive? No worries. Public transportation exists here in the land of living, and I take full advantage of it. Some of my bus adventures have been more that than simple transportation, but I get where I need (and want) to go, and I don’t have to bother another person about it. To those of you who are constantly asking for rides, this is life changing. Move if you have to but find public transportation. It restores self-respect.
Act with a plan.
Planning ahead allowed me to act as soon as the job was offered, but calm confidence is not exactly what I’m known for…how do I expect to survive the heat with only half of the requirements? I will learn to have the calm energy I am now so attracted to and continue to build my confidence with the skills I’ve learned.
I need to take a moment here to emphasize again how important it is to choose a recovery program that works for you. An individualized progress plan because recovery requires us to know personally that which we need to overcome. We find clarity first. We understand our addiction as a part of us that formed in response to our experiences. Then after building up our supports and strength, we work through the trauma that caused us to turn to our addictive behavior. It’s not a disease or a choice, addiction is a response to pain.
It just so happens that calm and confidence are exactly what I needed to finally extinguish the chaos that burned so much of my past. I wish I could say there is a miracle cure that will rid you of addiction or trauma and anxiety but of course there isn’t, we just have to realize we’re worth the work it takes to reclaim our lives.
Specifically, I there are a few tangible things I can offer that have made a difference. I listened to myself. Instead of accepting that there was one way to fix my life, I let myself explore. I tried church and 12-step. I went through a few therapists and read every “self-help” book I could get my hands on. I let myself not know how to change until I did. I was simply content with knowing I needed to do things differently and being open to what might evolve.
Act calmly.
I found myself a therapist I trusted enough to be honest. I make the most of our sessions and (generally) do the follow-up work she suggests. Routine is helpful but planning is better. I plan for the next day every night before bed and (obviously) I wake up feeling less rushed and more prepared. It seems insane that we need told things so apparent, but I didn’t believe it actually mattered. It does. Do more than the bare minimum and your future self will thank you. I try to sleep at least 7 hours, drink lots of water, and eat healthier – remember, we’re all a work in progress.
I notice a massive difference now that I walk to and from work every day. Not only do I feel physically healthier, but my mornings are more productive, and I might even say, hopeful. My mental health has improved just by walking 15 minutes to and from work each day. Walking and wearing what makes me feel good. Sweatpants are by far my favorite clothing item, with yoga pants coming in a close second, but I realized something when I replaced my hoodie with a button-up. I’m more motivated and feel better about myself when I get dressed like I have somewhere to be even if that place is just my office down the street with maybe 3 other people in it. Whatever. It doesn’t matter. We deserve to wear the nice clothes every damn day!
Boundaries. I’m terrible with confrontation and will likely spend the rest of my life working on establishing and holding the thinnest of boundaries. I find it extremely difficult to dole out consequences when other people fail to meet my needs. And though this is an exploration for another day, I’ve noticed a strong connection between one’s ability to get their needs met and how confident they appear. It’s not that I haven’t made progress – I speak up more often and no longer let people hurt me, but that’s a pretty low bar. I quit doing things that fill me with dread just for the sake of maybe, possibly not offending. But despite scraping together some semblance of self-respect over the past few years, I still have some work to do.
How to heal.
That’s really my point. Most of us are just doing our best as the world burns around us. Of course, there are the obvious horrible people in America. People who think some humans aren’t worth saving and that the fire is always an “inside job.” But not including them, we’re all just trying to survive today and maybe be better tomorrow. That’s enough. Honestly. Life is hard. You don’t have to be the best, just try to be a little bit better. If we focus less on being at the top, if we look around and realize we’re fighting for burnt crumbs, maybe something will give. We can let go a collective exhale and instead of wondering how we’ll survive, we can start imagining how we heal. And maybe that’s too idealistic…but while we navigate the fires this coming year, can we agree to give each other some grace?
