FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE: As the world continues to be a chaotic place, we celebrate some heroes at home: the Wildland Firefighters. Salida resident and author Kristen Moeller lost her home in a wildfire in 2012. Her latest book Phoenix Rising: Stories of Remarkable Women Walking through Fire...

“Whether we are conscious of it or not, the ground is always shifting. Nothing lasts, including us. there are probably very few people who, at any given time, are consumed with the idea ‘I’m going to die,’ but there is plenty of evidence that this...

On the anniversary of 9/11 many of us unite and reflect on that devastating event that changed lives in a flash and altered how we view the world. The range of reactions to today will be as wide as the range of personalities on this planet. Many will stop and honor the dead, remember and reflect. Some will weep and mourn. Some will merely go on with their day. Some never have stopped weeping. Some haven’t missed a beat this whole time. In this big, wide, wacky world there is a plethora of reactions to this event, to other events, to how we handle grief and anger and uncomfortable emotions. Today, I will stop and reflect. I will have gratitude that my slice of tragedy pales in comparison to this enormous event. Yet, I will also mourn my own and continue to gently find my way through something that doesn’t make sense, that came out of the blue and turned my world upside down, leaving life hardly resembling what it was before. I will think of my neighbors who lost loved ones and know their pain is not any less than those who lost loved ones in 9/11. Across the world, people will stop and grieve those lost in 9/11. Who will stop today to remember those lost in the North Fork fire? Or the High Park fire? Or the Waldo Canyon fire? Or any fire? I will.
In four days we are on a plane to Florida to commence our 26-day odyssey of recuperation and – let’s just say it – escape. We need a break. We need to get away from here. We need breathing room. We need rest. I need it. And, I believe, my husband needs it even more. We hit another dead end with our building process when we discovered that once again, the plans we had been working on since May were over budget. This was, to say the least, a major disappointment. What we hoped would be a smooth process has been a heartbreaking one. Now, having lost 2 months in the building process, we leave town with no plan, no start date and quite unsure of the next step when we return. And, we need to let it all go. Our attorney pointed out in his Yoda way, that we are operating more out of frustration and less out of logic. I absolutely agree. The frustrations that are part of normal life have become exaggerated and the fire caused frustrations seem monumental. We are breathing and counting down: 4 more days, 4 more days, 4 more days.
Friendship. Kindness. Love. Connection. These are the things that get us through. Moments of contact with another human being; the willingness to stop for a moment and be with each other without agenda; snuggling on a couch; walking holding hands; a random phone from a busy concert just to check in. These make my world go round in the best way. The chaotic spin shifts to normal rotation. My head stays glued to my neck versus flying off into space. My soul is fed versus slinking away to die. Monday I went to Boulder to see Linda my dear friend from Florida whom I have known since 1990. Linda has been there thick and thin through many stages of life. And, even more importantly she loves my dogs as her own and made frequent trips to Colorado to house and dog sit when we traveled, sometimes not even seeing me. This is the first trip she had to stay elsewhere. We met in Boulder to do our usual routine of consignment store shopping, strolling and talking. I was particularly grumpy, sure at this point that a wicked case of PMS, that robs me of the ability to see or experience anything good, has become my new monthly visitor. Angsty, coming out of my skin and seriously not wanting to be around people and after a hellacious headache socked in at 10am, I began finding excuses not to make the trip to Boulder. Not only was it Linda’s last day, but I had suggested the dinner with my other Abundance circle sisters. Denise was driving from Denver and Shaya was making the vittles. Committed not to back out on my friends, I drove on. My funk took a while to lift but somewhere in the Whole Foods gourmet aisle after tasting a wafer cracker with mint jalapeño pesto, the clouds lifted. Yes, my blood sugar has been whacked - but this small sampling couldn’t have completely fixed this issue. Was it magic? Was it Boulder which is as they say “between reality and the mountains”? Suddenly, I could be with my friends. Still considered a “flight risk”, I buddied up until we arrived safely at Shaya’s where we spread out the food, sampled delicacies and I sprawled on the couch in my favorite position.
A bird does not sing because it has an answer, it sings because it has a song. Lou Holtz I woke up worrying. Or did I start worrying once I woke up. In those early moments before getting out of bed and way before coffee, it’s hard to tell. What I can tell is how my 60 minutes of worrying between eye flutter and first sip of caffeine made me feel. Like poop. To escape the blistering heat at our lovely trailer, we stayed the last two nights at the Highland Haven in downtown Evergreen. A lovely respite from reality, the Highland Haven is a high-end B&B built around an 1884 homestead. A small river runs along the property, towering spruce provide ample shade, the gardens are tended but not over manicured. Our room is lovely and dark and one might have thought I could have slept in - but oh no, I need to get up early enough to begin my worrying. Well-worn grooves of worry were my focus. Challenging relationships, the heat, fires burning across Colorado our future, where to do the laundry... It wasn’t until I walked back to my room with coffee in hand that it occurred to me that I might choose something else and start the day over. Some of us are slow learners.
Well… If I had written yesterday, I would have begun by crying out, “God hates me!”  Now I know that isn’t completely true.  And, I know everything could be a helluva lot worse.  And, I don’t even know for sure there is a God to hate me afterall.  Is anyone really up there watching over us?  Does he or she reside within us?  Does anything make any sense?  Are my prayers heard?  Are my curses ignored?  Will I burn in hell – or are we all living in hell right now?  All these questions and more would have tumbled from my fingers onto the keyboard…
After my debut performance as a stand-up comic on Tuesday night and the resulting freedom and exaltation that came from that, Wednesday was wonderful.  I felt different as I drove to my weekly appointment with my therapist.  The colors seemed brighter along the road – and don’t just tell me it’s cause they were brighter… My soul felt lighter and I thought I might have turned a corner.  Proud of my progress through this trauma, my therapist acknowledged my inner resources and ability to rely on my many years of personal growth tools.  I felt it too.  Ahhhh.  Life was shifting. 
Last night I leapt into the unknown. In the form of a stand-up comedy routine, 8 other brave women and I took to the stage to test our mettle.  In a nutshell, we rocked it.  The crowd was rooting for us from the beginning.  The majority of the packed house (about 100 strong) were friends and supporters with a few complete strangers sprinkled in.  It was a night to remember – and already I want to do it again.  For us brave souls who leapt, the last two weeks have had their ups and downs to say the least.  We came together for the first time on May 20th for a 4-hour workshop lead by the brilliant Kristina Hall.  A veteran comic with over 25 years experience both live and on TV, Kristina created a flagship program to help women step through fears, find our own unique expression and get our funny on.  The level of power and accomplishment in the room did not lesson our shared anxiety.  Would we be funny, would we remember, what if we froze, what if no one laughed and you could hear crickets???
This being human is a guest house.
Every morning a new arrival
A joy, a depression, a meanness,
some momentary awareness comes
as an unexpected visitor.
Welcome and entertain them all
Even if they’re a crowd of sorrows,
who violently sweep your house
empty of its furniture
Still treat each guest honorable,
He may be clearing you out
for some new delight.
The dark thought, the shame, the malice,
meet them at the door laughing,
and invite them in.
Be grateful for whoever comes,
because each has been sent
as a guide from beyond.
- Rumi
Maybe no morning should begin without Rumi.  If we could live by these words, we certainly would be a bit more peaceful.  I know I would.  “Every morning a new arrival…” ah Rumi, you speak to my heart and soul.  Today is the day I take to the stage with 8 other women to get my funny on.  I have felt so far from funny recently.  Insane, yes.  Funny, not so much.  I question why I am doing it, yet I question most things that stretch and challenge me. 
Everything will be all right in the end... if it's not all right then it's not the end. 
- Sonny from the movie “The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel”
“Delightful” is what one of the film reviews said, and I concur.  Many moons ago, when I first saw the preview with the above line, I added it to my very short “must see” list.  A lovely romp through India with a stellar cast of veteran actors, it didn’t disappoint.  Illuminating the “Golden Years” and the potential for a last great hurrah (or series of hurrah’s) is another reminder that it aint over til the fat lady sings.  These fine people thwarted their predictable path into frailty and leapt into the absolute unknown of a life in India.  Unlike so many movies these days, the dialogue languorously explored themes we all deal with which aren’t often reflected in the media.  The real deal.  Obviously, I am a fan of the real deal.
This film reminds me that this current iteration won’t be the last adventure of our lives.  There will be many many more.  Some chosen, others not so much.  It’s packed with life lessons and reminders of what really matters.  Stuff such as love, trust, hope, faith – and yes – that it can all end in a nano-second.  In a society where we have marginalized the elderly, it’s nice to be taught.  Yet, as my mom has always says, you feel like the same person inside, it’s the image in the mirror that keeps changing.