I am honestly bewildered.
I’ve spent the last week in Ohio, singing and then visiting with my family. Yesterday morning, I woke up to texts from sweethearts getting ready to evacuate and reports that there were wildfires raging all around Austin — north and south, and elsewhere in Texas. Marty is safe at home, and our neighbors likewise… but others have had to abandon their homes — with children, and animals and essential belongings if they were lucky — and as of late last night, many of them had no idea whether they’d still have those homes in the morning.
My personal safety is untouched by these circumstances, but I am nonetheless full of confused emotions. I’m currently working on an important campaign that will launch tomorrow and impact life and death situations… in another country, far away. I feel inspired by this campaign, I am determined to give it as much leverage as I can. And at the same time, I am faced with a scary situation of my own, one that hits very close to home. In a very literal fashion.
All the brainstorming about fundraising and benefit projects is secondary to this very new sensation: What am I coming home to? Who can I help? What do Marty and I have that we can share?
And of course, that’s all jumbled in with concern for friends and chosen family in Texas, the realization that I’d better not have any caffeine if I’ve already got a bit of the jitters, and sitting here, at my laptop, refreshing Facebook for the gazillionth time in the hope of hearing some good news.
I still don’t know how to feel or react, but I do have a sense that the time for action will be Wednesday, when my plane lands at ATX, and I walk out of the airport and first have the chance to (inevitably) smell smoke in the air.
These feelings haven’t resolved for me, and I can’t find a resolution for this post, either.