Grief and Wildfires
Grief is like Wildfires. One unattended ember within a dry forested land makes it all go up in smoke. Yes, the forests sheared by fire remind us of intense heat — of destruction, of how much things are raging out of control. Yes, grief is raging, partnering with the ravages of COVID and social unrest. It’s out of control as we see it in our streets, feel it in our pockets, threatening our homes and family life as we know it. The bottled up emotions are erupting as part of the literal and figurative wildfires everywhere. When micro grief doesn’t get tended to, heard, seen — it becomes a mighty grief, powerful and potent.
Now grief materializes as a result of being squeezed out of a job, need for money, imprisoned by fear of the unknown. Grief is full of unknowns. Part of its guise is being in survival mode, forced to scramble for basic needs that more fortunate people take for granted, like food and shelter. Fear turned to anger and untolled anxiety for many, offering little respite from the seemingly never-ending story of COVID. It’s sobering how much division and discontent are erupting for one and for many. The simmering pot has boiled over and the burn goes deep. The fear, sadness, and trauma are taking over lives, and burning uncontrollably like merging wildfires.
Micheal Martin Murphey wrote a song about a missing woman last seen searching for her runaway horse named Wildfire. “Wildfire” is an allegory for finding a path through tragedy, about knowing the intimate moments when fear, grief, and sorrow plow through the soul without permission. Rather like an ambush. The lyrics say, “We’ll be ridin’ Wildfire,” and with that refrain, comes a subtle, yet important vein of optimism. Grief right now is the same. We are left wondering about what well being even means after having lost a world where the literal and figurative wildfires lurk. We have no choice but to try to harness the moment. Remembering where there is death there is a birth or rebirth.
There are small and large life-changing arcs of grief. We experience these life-changing and unique forms of grief perhaps when the wildfires awaken us to the heat and heart of desire and loss. Thinking about what life was like pre-COVID and post-COVID is certainly historic, as grief became more universally felt and understood than ever before. Monumental, yep.
If you could do one thing to help another who is less fortunate than you, what would you do? It might be as simple as noticing them and shouting out, I See You. Through the wildfires, because of them or despite them. They will continue to burn. We will continue to live and find ways to manage the wildfires of life. One ember. One moment of a lost voice. One woman who cannot afford her rent. One. It is a matter of one. To notice. To help. To see. To know, It’s Grief.
