Weary. Restless. Human.

Gah. I hate negative blog posts. I never want to be someone who sits around bitching about anything. I am sorry. It can not be helped. I am tired of devastation. I realize this isn't your problem, but it is mine. And this is my blog, after all. While it isn't kind of me to make you read about the devastation around me, sometimes a person needs to put some emotions to rest, you know? Or, at least assuage them a little? Somehow (and, for me, that's by writing it out)? You can back out of our little reader/writer arrangement here, which is more than I can say for myself, but I think you won't by now. So, here we are. Me all 'tired of devastation' and you all 'sitting there, drenched in my emotional cloudburst'.

There were fires here, and the fires were terrible. My home was unaffected, so I should be, and am, grateful for that. It was exhausting though, whether you were evacuated from your home or not, to just be here in this town, watching it all happen. We were all on edge... some evenings, just walking the street where we live, talking to neighbors because it seemed like the only thing we could do to hedge our restlessness. We're just now breathing our relief with the fire's containment, but how much relief is it really as the historical aspects of the burn sink in? Everyone respects a fire fighter, but there is a newness in that respect now, within this town, that is actually difficult to explain. It has become passionate, I think. We are human though. As with all passions, it is not fair how time and a return to 'normal living' will moderate our feelings and our actions. We will remember what those fighters did, and how we felt. Yet, I can't help thinking their valor deserve better than our human-ness. 

A couple of friends have become severely and/or startlingly ill. There are fights ahead, and though we help and support all we can, there's a helplessness. If only there were more... more we could do. In some cases, I feel so capable of being more helpful, but geography presents insurmountable limitations. It feels crippling.

I get it. I'm a grown up. I know this is the way life happens. The older you get, the more open your eyes become to the ever existent devastations. I get that there is only so much I can do about things. I don't wish to waste too much time wallowing in pity for myself or anyone else. There is simply too much to do for that. I know I need to just help where I can. Impact the people I can impact, and it is not as though life is without its positively gleaming moments.

Everyone is allowed a little time to be weary of the human experience.
Even me.



On we go.
Here's a towel. You should change out of those drenched clothes before you catch yourself a death of a cold.