Lately I’ve been feeling like I’m going through another bout of adolescence. I’m not proud of this. After over 20 years in remission, I’m suddenly back to feelings of uncertainty. I’d like to think I have enough ego strength to disregard what others think of me. But, at the moment, I just want people to like me, darn it! And I really want to do well at my job. I fear I won’t… or that I’ll make a mistake. (Would that be so bad?) This whole thing is goofy, came on suddenly, and leaves me perplexed. Now I’m busy trying to understand what I can learn from Round 2. I feel much more fragile this time than I did when I was 13. I think back then I had the determination to be committed to having good character and gathered strength from that regardless of the outcome. But perhaps it’s the loneliness I remember during those times  that leaves me feeling vulnerable now. Still, that time in my life was the most beneficial and significant. I’m so thankful for it because it galvanized my resolve in such a formative way. It literally (along with a couple of other important factors like my family) made me who I am.

It’s hard to believe “September 11th” was seven years ago. I think 9/11 is like the assassination of JFK in that everyone remembers where they were when they heard the news. I was traveling home from Hawaii, fortuitously not on the Boston flight I would have been on should I have taken my usual annual vacation to New Hampshire. After the attacks, no one knew how many more planes might be hijacked. Until every plane that was in the air had landed, it was unknown if more attacks were coming. When we landed our pilot made an announcement over the intercom, “Ladies and gentlemen, this is not a joke, there seems to have been some sort of terrorist attack against the United States. We will not be allowed to approach the terminal until we pass a security check. That is all we know at this point.” We all sat there wondering what kind of “attack” had occured without any idea of its magnitude. Once inside the airport, all of the TVs were looping the images. As I drove by flags at half-mast today I was reminded of friends who lost loved-ones in the towers – wishing them peace.

I once took a business class on “management decision-making”. One thing from the semester stood-out. A brief statement in the texbook warned to be careful not to judge the soundness of a decision based upon its outcome. The author’s point was that a poor decision can turn out OK, but that doesn’t make it a good decision. The reverse is also true. If I choose to drink and drive, and I make it home without hurting anyone, it doesn’t mean I made the correct decision. Likewise, a well-made decision can result in unwanted consequences, and yet it doesn’t mean the decision was a poor one. I think it’s counter-intuitive in a sense, but worth bearing in mind.

I was just backing-up photos and saw images of the October wildfires. It’s been almost a year since we awoke surrounded. A brush fire storm moving at greater than 100-miles-per-hour cannot be outrun, so we waited inside, hoping after the raging flames passed we’d be able to exit through a door or window that wasn’t burning. As we watched waves of frenetic orange embers tumble toward us, I sent out the cryptic text messages I thought might be my last words. I saved some of them on my phone.

6:00 am – “It was too late for us to evac. In house just waiting.”
6:03 am – “Fire here now. Don’t know if we’ll get out.”
6:05 am – “I love you.”

Messages came back.
6:00 am – “Oh my God.”
6:01 am – “We love you.”
6:48 am – “Praying for you.”
 

The fire-filled, hurricane-like winds passed. Our roof was on fire but after hours of work we were able to extinguish it. Amid noisy 100 mile-per-hour wind gusts, darkness, smoke, flames, propane tank explosions, failing water supplies, falling trees and other impediments, we battled. We didn’t use any extra words. We worked as a team, but each with unique contributions.

Meanwhile those to whom I’d said goodbye were waiting, in silence, not knowing our fate. Finally, hours later, I sent the most celebratory message I’d ever punched out on my phone.

11:09 am -
“All Liguori’s, pets, and house ok!”

Afterwards I was overwhelmed by the “goodness” of people. Rarely have I felt so loved and connected… part of a larger whole that is in life together. Despite our declinations, friends showed up and went to work cleaning, and digging, and cutting down burnt trees. They brought food, generators, batteries, shovels.

That day feels surreal, but I think I’ll always remember it with a humbling feeling of gratitude.