Monday, June 12, 2023

What Drifted in on the Wind

The air quality here in Kentucky is back to what the Air Quality Index considers “Good” (under 50) for the first time since June 1st. We had rain yesterday and last night that seemed to help clear the air, and I woke up to blue skies this morning minus the feeling of hazy oppression we’d been living under with the wildfire smoke. It wasn’t bad here compared to the East Coast and the Northeast, but it was bad enough to make you reconsider your normal activities. I noticed fewer people swimming in the community pool all week until yesterday afternoon, when things began to clear. I myself wasn’t enticed to either sit on my porch or go for a walk during much of this AQI event; I wasn’t sure if I was a member of a “sensitive group” who might be affected more easily by particulate matter or not (I suspected not, but why take a chance?)—so I sipped my iced tea and read my books inside.

Author Stephen Pyne, whose book The Pyrocene: How We Created an Age of Fire, and What Happens Next, describes the new era that he says our management of fire has created. While Dr. Pyne believes we can take actions to ameliorate some of the effects of the mega-fires that are probably our new normal, there’s no getting around the consequences to our long-term health and well-being that this era has ushered in. I can remember when wildfires out West were a fairly regular occurrence before the scale of them shifted so wildly. They were distant events we would hear about on the news, destructive and concerning, certainly, but not nearly as monstrous as they are now. 

The scenes coming out of New York City during this past week were very nearly apocalyptic, as have some of the wildfires in California and the Northwest been over the last few years. Sometimes I’m glad my move to California was so short-lived because I’m not sure I’d want to be there now. The last time I was there, for a job interview, fires erupted the day before I got there and resulted in my interview being cancelled. While it was not the first time I had been in California while fires were raging, these were closer to where I was than the previous fires I’d seen. I remember walking down a street in Santa Monica and seeing a few people near a hospital wearing masks. It didn’t occur to me at first that this was because of the air quality, but indeed the smoke grew worse over the next day. There was nothing to do but watch the coverage on TV in my hotel room and worry. By the time I left two days later, I almost felt I was fleeing Armageddon by the skin of my teeth.

I was thinking tonight about the symbolic meanings of fire in world traditions and was reminded that fire is associated with the Manipura chakra, located at the solar plexus and associated with organs in the abdomen. If this chakra is blocked, it’s said that one suffers from a lack of agency, confidence, and the will to achieve, the energy from Manipura being the engine that drives self-esteem and purpose. It may be a coincidence, but I noted that several of the symptoms the yogis ascribe to a blocked Manipura chakra were symptoms I had been unable to shake over the course of this past week. I had a strange stomach ache after drinking an iced coffee (which normally doesn’t bother me) and felt rather sluggish throughout the week, oppressed by the haze that seemed to hem us all in. Reading the situation symbolically, I would say that the imbalance created by the fires raging out of control almost seemed at some psychic level to have stolen my own personal fire, leaving me at a standstill, though I wasn’t completely aware of the reason.

I hope we can collectively summon the will for the hard work it will take to stave off some of the worst effects of climate change, but I admit it isn’t looking good at the moment. Perhaps that will change. Meanwhile, I did one of the worst things I possibly could have done to reset my personal sense of agency by picking a library book this week that deals with the aftermath of a worldwide catastrophic event. Granted, it had nothing to do with climate change; it was a flu epidemic, but all that did was bring up memories of the recently lifted COVID-19 emergency. Wisely, I think, I decided to put that book aside and find something more fun to read. There’s only so much catastrophe you can reasonably expect to cope with in one week, even in the name of reading events mythically.