by Kerry Schafer
I’m an optimist. So much so, that I’ve been known to annoy people with my relentless quest for silver linings. But despite my belief that happiness is largely a personal choice, it’s easy to get sucked into the continuum of despair when the whole world seems to be burning up around you.
A few weeks ago, when all of the fires were burning out of control and smoke had been a tangible, persistent reality for days, I had a conversation with myself that went a bit like this:
Kerry: “If I was rich and had a ton of money I could go to a lake or somewhere else by a lake, where the sky is blue, the air is clear, and the sun is shining.”
Also Kerry: “There is no such place. The whole world is burning. We’re all gonna die without ever seeing a blue sky or a star again…”
In that moment, the only silver lining I could come up with was the hope of a dystopian colony on Mars where we all went outside only in space suits and helmets with breathing apparatus, and there was no sun or any green growing thing to be seen ever again.
At the time that I was entertaining these cheerful thoughts and sliding toward despair, I was perfectly safe, my home and the forest around it untouched by the devastation of fire. I wasn’t even in an evacuation zone.
My dip into the dark side was mercifully brief. I’ve lived through a few tragedies during my life, the kind that turn your life upside down and make you question everything you thought you knew. And one of the things I’ve learned is that joy, like hope, can live even in the darkest of spaces.
I want to share a few of the tools and practices that help me stay centered, calm, and joyful, even when the world feels dark and seems to be falling apart. Maybe you’ll see something here that will be helpful to you.
Breathe. When we’re in fight/freeze/flight mode, anywhere between mild anxiety and full-on panic, our logical thought processes go off line. Everything in the body, including the brain, is focused on survival. When you’re actually running for your life, this can be helpful. Otherwise, not so much. One of the easiest ways to take yourself out of fight or flight is to take conscious control of your breathing. Slow it down. Deepen it. Breathe in through your nose and out through your mouth. Try for an exhale that is longer than your inhale. It helps to count it out in your head as you breathe: In-2-3-4-5-6. Out-2-3-4-5-6-7-8. Doing this breathing for just a couple of minutes sends a signal to your brain and your body that it’s safe to calm down.
Accept where you are, and what you feel. Emotions are like the weather; they come and go. Tell yourself, “This is how I feel right now, and that’s okay. No feeling lasts forever.” There’s a book for kids titled, “Sad Isn’t Bad,” and I think this is a good thing to remember.
Limit or step away from social media, or at least curate it. Looking at footage of fires or other disasters for hours on end makes it seem like that’s all there is the whole wide world. Find some posts of sunny skies. Look at some silly cat videos. The fires and losses and grief are real – and these other things are also real.
Surround yourself with positive and supportive people as much as possible – and make a point of helping others, even if it’s just with a smile or a hug.
Explore Emotional Freedom Technique (EFT). This is an easy-to-use, scientifically proven method that works to calm anxiety, heal trauma, and regulate emotional states. It involves gentle touch or tapping on acupressure points while you focus your attention on what’s bothering you. This can be easily learned on your own. I love the work of the people at The Tapping Solution (thetappingsolution.com). They have an always-free Crisis Support First Aid Collection, and also an extensive free collection for First Responders.
It’s okay to grieve. Whether it’s for a lost home, person, pet, neighborhood, or even a sense of safety and the way the world used to be, please know that you get to grieve in any way that feels right to you. Nobody else can tell you how you should grieve or when you should be done. But also know that joy and grief can co-exist and don’t need to be mutually exclusive.
This morning as I write, the smoke has cleared. The sky is blue again. The air smells like – air. From my front porch, I can see Old Dominion off in the distance, blue and beautiful, no longer obscured by smoke. All our windows are open wide, and I’m breathing without worrying about what I might be sucking into my lungs.
It’s bliss. I’m aware that fire season isn’t over yet, but I’m choosing to be in this moment. If the smoke comes back again, as it probably will, this moment will be a memory to hold onto, a reminder of all that is beautiful and good and right with the world.
Colville resident Kerry Schafer (who also writes as Kerry Anne King) is the bestselling author of 15 novels, the co-host of The One Happy Thing Podcast, and a licensed mental health counselor. Find out more at www.allthingskerry.com.
