It feels risky to go outside right now; my son considered wearing a mask; the sun was red; the moon might be orange and a photo my husband sent me from Florida reminded me that the sky was once blue.
I had forgotten. Apparently, the smoke from wildfires has been descending upon my small town for weeks, slowly wiggling in and mixing with blue skies until the gray out-numbered the blue.
So, here we are, potentially on the cusp on another end of the world type situation.
But, then again, the smoke will eventually move out and go elsewhere or nowhere and just give up the ghost or something. My son will speak at his school assembly tomorrow about Alex's Lemonade Stand Foundation and his story as a SuperSib. The dance recitals are still on. In Florida, my oldest will row in Time Trials and then the Finals. The Great Chefs Event for Alex's Lemonade will go on Saturday. The cleaners will come on Monday. I will write something. I will read something.
We will go on, because the world isn't really ending. I am just confusing the feeling from 2020 with the feeling from now. I am reacting to the specific "stay inside" advice of 2023 and correlating to "stay inside" advice of 2020.
It is a very severe case of mixed-up emotions. I think young people refer to this as "triggered."
The same thing happens to me when Lily races in a regatta. I get all this anxiety and apocalyptic build-up. I cannot be around other people. I cannot even cheer. I just need to stand like a statue and whisper shout "go Lily" in voice only I can hear. I am confusing the race anxiety with scanxiety--a real mental disorder that gives me apocalyptic energy, makes me hate everyone and robs me of my voice.
But, that isn't what is happening. My daughter is simply racing a boat. She is not awaiting MRI results.
See, mixed-up emotions, again.
I don't know what to do with all of this. I think just acknowledge it and notice it and then wait for the smoke cloud to pass, as it should once the wind blows it out to wherever.