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...

Bad dream early this morning.  We were living in a police state where some group had taken over everything.  On the surface it looked ok, but some of us knew the truth.  Curfews were in place and people were mysteriously disappearing.  I had been forewarned and somehow David and I were not together.  He was back in the town – and I was on the edge of the woods on the outside of the boundary lines.  Communication was sketchy.  Cell phones were working intermittently and we didn’t want to have our ringers to alert anyone to our location.  I kept trying to reach David and left him partial messages each time we were cut off.  The group I was with was heading out soon.  I was begging David to come quickly.  He kept saying he would leave in 9 minutes but each time I reached him he hadn’t left yet.  Suddenly my group was gone without telling me and I was alone.  Franticly, I searched for David, sneaking back into town obscuring my head and face in a hat and mask. 
This morning, my spinning mind won’t let me go back to sleep.  Emerging pattern:  3am, I have to pee, then I toss and turn until 5am and get up… No thank you.   The fear won't release it's grip.  Fear that I won’t fit back in to my life – I won’t.  Fear that people’s support will dry up – it will.  Fear of being alone – we all are alone.  Yes, we all are connected, but we all are ultimately alone.  It’s PMS time, so my feelings are deeper and more raw.  I always have a little of this during my time of the month.  I become over sensitive, hyper reactive, thin-skinned and more fun things.
The world is moving on.  It has to.  Our world is moving, but just not “on” yet.  After May 12th, we don’t know where we will be staying.  We have been living in luxury through the generosity of our dear friends Lynn and Laurie who offered their majestic log home.  We have had the much much much needed space to ourselves.  So many thoughtful people offered rooms – and we deeply appreciate all offers – however having our own space is essential for our healing.  Not having to make polite – or not so polite – conversation with generous hosts is important.  Here, we don’t have to talk to anyone.  We can leave dishes in the sink, walk around naked and fart when we feel like it.  All very important things.  For people who have lost everything, we sure can make a mess.  The 6-person dining room table is command central.  It is caked with stacks of notebooks for inventory, piles of new receipts as we buy groceries and replace some essential housewares (like a new French press!), as well as cards of love sent from near and far and gift certificates sent to support us our replacement efforts.  It’s hard to find a place to sit down.