How the LA Fires Are a Wake-Up Call for Us All

A Preview for Preparation and Inner Growth Through Emotional Discovery

Living during times of crisis, like the fires in Los Angeles, has a way of teaching you about contrasts. That there is always two sides of the coin (book plug ;)).

Destruction and renewal.
Grief and gratitude.
Fear and hope.

These contrasts don’t just exist in the world around us—they exist within us. That’s the wild, messy, beautiful truth of being human. We are capable of holding all of it, feeling all of it, and sometimes it is at the exact same time.

Right now, I’m seeing it firsthand. Friends who’ve lost everything but the shirts on their back. Others who had to evacuate in a panic. Those who still don’t have power. Watching friends step up in incredible ways—opening their homes, offering their businesses, donating money and resources, or volunteering their time to help however they can. Others are simply focused on getting through each day, doing what they can to keep moving forward.

From afar, people are showing up in their own ways—sending prayers, love, and personal donations. Awareness being spread by asking the deeper questions: what caused the fires, what measures could have prevented them, and what lessons can we take forward? Some people are working to help others untangle and prepare for the insurance nightmares ahead, sharing wisdom on how to protect your health, or rallying for change. Everyone is doing something, no matter how big or small, to contribute to the collective healing and recovery.

No matter the role they’re playing, there’s this common thread I am hearing that I want to address. Everyone is feeling so much, all at once. And so many are questioning if we’re allowed to feel what we’re feeling.

Emotions have a way of demanding attention.

Anger can flare up out of nowhere, guilt can linger, and sadness often tugs at us when we least expect it. At the same time, joy, excitement, and gratitude show up too, sometimes without invitation. Emotions are not meant to be labeled as “good” or “bad.” They’re just emotions. They’re all valid.

The world has trained us to put emotions in neat little boxes. If you’re sad, you can’t also be happy. If you’re grieving, it’s wrong to feel excited about something We’re told our feelings should align perfectly with the moment, like there’s a “right” way to respond to every situation, and if we don’t, we risk being judged—not just by others, but by ourselves.

Judgments are everywhere: accusations of being tone-deaf, for people sticking to a routine, people traveling, or finding joy in small, normal moments. These judgments creep in, and suddenly, we’re questioning ourselves.

Am I wrong for feeling this way? Am I selfish for wanting to escape the heaviness for a moment?

But life is never that simple. Life doesn’t fit in a box, and neither do our emotions.

What if instead of labeling emotions, we just allowed them to be? What if anger didn’t need to cancel out gratitude, and sadness didn’t need to invalidate joy? What if we stopped shaming ourselves for the emotions we feel and instead let them coexist?

What if we replaced judgment with compassion—for ourselves and for others? What if we allowed space for the full spectrum of human experience, where all emotions are welcome, and all ways of coping are valid?

Because the truth is, life doesn’t stop for tragedy, and it’s okay to live even as you feel. It’s okay to hold conflicting emotions, to keep going, and to find your way through the messiness of it all.

And the more we allow ourselves to feel the full spectrum of our emotions without judgment, the more we open ourselves up to healing, to growth, and to the depth of life itself. It’s not about picking one emotion over the other. It’s about giving them all permission to exist.

What if instead of trying to fix or fight them, we got curious about them?

• What is this fear showing me? Is it revealing a deeper need for safety or connection? Is it showing me a deeper component of myself I have been missing this whole time?

• What is this anger pointing to? Is it highlighting a boundary that was crossed or a value that feels threatened? Is it showing me a deeper component of myself I have been missing this whole time?

• What is this anxiety asking me to address? Is it encouraging me to slow down, focus, or release control? Is it showing me a deeper component of myself I have been missing this whole time?

Instead of suppressing these emotions, let them speak. Journal them out. Write down what you’re feeling and ask yourself, What’s underneath this? Even if you don’t have the answers now, you’ll have the insight later when things settle. Allow yourself to just explore what you feel without judgement.

Emotions aren’t obstacles—they’re messengers.

They demand to be felt, explored, and understood.

This is all natural what we are feeling. When faced with chaos or crisis, our brains are wired to seek control and order. The uncertainty of disasters, like the fires, taps into our survival instincts. Our amygdala, the fear center of the brain, goes into overdrive, pushing us toward extremes of worry, anger, or sadness. But emotions are rarely so clear-cut, and when we try to label or suppress them, we create inner resistance.

When we see others suffer, we naturally empathize. Mirror neurons in our brain allow us to feel the pain of others, imagining what it would be like in their shoes. This can be a beautiful, unifying experience, but it can also stir up deeper fears and wounds within us—ones that existed long before the crisis.

We’ve also been trained by society to categorize emotions. Happiness is celebrated, while sadness, anger, or fear is dismissed. This creates an internalized shame around emotions that don’t fit the moment.

But these labels create walls. They keep us stuck in a mindset that if we feel one thing, we can’t feel another. Life is not one-dimensional, and neither are we.

When we define emotions too rigidly, we cut off the possibility for others to exist with them. If we label sadness as “bad,” we might miss the moments of clarity or connection it can bring. If we dismiss anger as “toxic,” we might ignore the way it points us toward something we deeply care about.

Labels keep us in a state of resistance. And what we resist, persists.

The problem isn’t with the emotions themselves, it’s the way we’ve been taught to judge them.

Emotion is energy in motion, and energy—whether from anger, fear, or sadness—needs an outlet. If we don’t give it one, it gets stuck, manifesting as stress, burnout, or even physical illness. But if we direct that energy into something meaningful, it becomes a force for change.

• Channel your anger: Use it to take action—donate, volunteer, or raise awareness. Or feel it by screaming into a pillow, punching a boxing bag, smacking a towel against the floor.

• Move through your sadness: Talk to someone, write it out, cry, or simply sit with it.

• Honor your joy: Allow moments of normalcy, laughter, or gratitude without guilt. Dance, sing, have fun!

Imagine if everyone helped just one person today. How different would the world feel? And beyond external action, imagine if we all addressed what’s coming up inside us while watching these events unfold. By healing ourselves, we contribute to the healing of the world.

We are all experiencing this event in different ways. It’s bringing up unique emotions and challenges for each of us. That’s because what we’re feeling isn’t entirely new, it’s bringing to the surface what’s already there. This event is acting as a mirror, reflecting back emotions that were already present, waiting to be acknowledged.

How it looks and feels will vary for everyone, but the way you interpret and engage with what’s coming up for you holds the key to your transformation. By leaning into these emotions, exploring them with curiosity, and allowing yourself to process them fully, you can transmute the old energy and move forward with greater clarity and freedom. This moment is an opportunity to heal what has been buried and step into a more empowered version of yourself.

But at the core, we’re a collective—whether you live up the street or across the world. This isn’t just about those who lost their homes or are directly impacted. It’s a wake-up call for all of us, a preview of how life’s unpredictability can ripple out and touch everyone. This isn’t the first natural disaster we’ll face, and it certainly won’t be the last.

When it happens in your backyard, the lessons hit harder, the emotions run deeper, and the need to see all sides becomes undeniable.

It’s a powerful opportunity to pause and reevaluate what we truly value in life. It’s an opportunity to take stock of where we place our energy, to consider what really matters, and to ensure that we are not only more prepared physically but also emotionally and mentally. It’s about shifting our focus from the distractions of daily life to what sustains us in moments of crisis—our connections, our resilience, and our ability to adapt.

This is a moment to pause and ask yourself: Are you focusing on what really matters, or getting caught up in the things that don’t? Are you pouring into your relationships, your community, and your own well-being in a way that can stand strong when life feels uncertain? When chaos hits, it has a way of shining a light on what we’ve been avoiding—whether it’s taking the time to plan, finding a sense of calm within ourselves, or simply slowing down to appreciate what we already have.

These events remind us that life can change in an instant, but they also challenge us to take steps that ensure we’re living with intention, valuing what matters most, and building a foundation of strength that can carry us through the unexpected.

The problem arises when we think, “Thank God that’s not me,” and avoid looking at the deeper lessons.

So, how can this help you? Are you prepared for what life might bring? Do you have coverage on your home for natural disasters in your area? Are you ready for a blackout, hurricane, tornado, earthquake? Do you have water, food, and other essentials on hand? Are there steps you can take right now to protect yourself and your loved ones? These questions aren’t meant to instill fear but to inspire practical action and reflection.

If we look back at past events, like the devastating fires in LA, we see a pattern. After the 2018 fires, there were countless opportunities to implement better prevention measures and learn from the mistakes, but many lessons went unlearned. From all the unpredictable events in other states to the growing reality of extreme weather conditions, it’s clear that ignoring these warnings only leaves us more vulnerable.

The same applies to us on a personal level. So, ask yourself: what actions can I take today to feel more prepared for the unexpected? Maybe it’s reviewing your insurance coverage, creating an emergency kit, or simply having a plan in place. Fear isn’t just an emotion—it’s a signal pointing out what we feel unprepared for. While it doesn’t make natural disasters less frightening, it can push us to take steps that bring a sense of readiness and control.

Let this be a reminder that while we can’t control the forces of nature, we can control how we prepare and respond. And in doing so, we create a ripple effect of resilience and awareness, both for ourselves and for the collective.

These questions are very practical, but there’s also an emotional layer here if you allow yourself to explore it.

This event might be bringing something up within you that goes beyond physical preparedness. For example, anxiety about what’s next could be nudging you to create a plan, but it might also be showing you something deeper—that you feel unsupported or undervalued. Maybe it’s triggering a childhood belief that you’re on your own and can’t rely on anyone.

This is an invitation to ask yourself: where did this story come from?

Or perhaps you feel a pang of guilt when you think, “I’m so grateful that’s not happening to me.” Maybe you’ve caught yourself thinking, “Who am I to feel safe or happy when others are struggling?” That guilt could reveal a belief that you’re somehow responsible for others’ pain or that your own happiness comes at the expense of someone else’s. For example, maybe you’ve felt this way before when you achieved something big—like a promotion or a new home—and noticed friends or family struggling in their own lives. These feelings might stem from a deeper belief that it’s selfish to celebrate your own wins or that you have to downplay your success to avoid making others feel bad.

This event might stir up frustration with how others are responding. Maybe you’re annoyed that someone seems apathetic, posting selfies or unrelated content, or maybe you feel triggered by those who are panicking, sharing dire predictions or worst-case scenarios. That frustration is a mirror, reflecting deeper wounds or unresolved emotions from your past—like times when you felt powerless, dismissed, or like you had to carry the weight of the world because no one else seemed to care or take responsibility.

If you’re feeling overwhelmed by the fear and sadness this fire has caused, it might be mirroring moments in your life when you were left to handle challenges on your own or felt unsupported in the face of a crisis. If you feel angry at those who aren’t doing enough, it might stem from a belief that others never step up when you need them, forcing you to overextend yourself.

On the other hand, if you find yourself consumed by panic, it could be connected to a past experience where you were blindsided by something you couldn’t control, leaving you feeling unsafe and unprepared.

Instead of brushing these feelings aside, let them guide you.

This isn’t just about being physically ready for a disaster; it’s about noticing what’s bubbling up emotionally and using it as an opportunity to grow. What’s coming to the surface might point to areas where you need more trust, more self-love, or more healing. This isn’t easy work, but it’s the kind that transforms not only how you respond to life’s challenges but how you experience life itself.

Fear has a way of keeping us stuck and out of our power. It tells us stories about what we can’t handle, what might go wrong, and how everything is out of control. The news knows this well—they capitalize on it, keeping us in a cycle of panic and overwhelm. But fear, when we really listen to it, isn’t here to paralyze us. It’s here to guide us. It’s a signal, a messenger, pointing to the deeper truths we might not want to face.

This isn’t a time to let fear control us. It’s a time to let fear reveal what we’ve been avoiding. Whatever is coming up, it’s not about fixing it right away but allowing yourself to explore it with curiosity.

It’s important to remember that feeling fear, panic, stress, worry, or anger doesn’t make you weak or wrong. These emotions are natural, but the goal isn’t to drown in them or let them take over. Instead, it’s about finding neutrality—a balance point where you can hold space for your emotions without being consumed by them. Neutrality doesn’t mean apathy or indifference. It means acknowledging the gravity of a situation while maintaining your inner calm.

Neutrality is understanding that everything in life holds equal amounts of positive and negative. Making it perfectly balanced. It’s often our emotions and perspective that cloud this balance, causing us to see only one side.

Neutrality lets you feel everything without reacting from a place of panic or hopelessness. It creates space for clarity, for action that comes from intention rather than chaos. You can deeply care about what’s happening without spiraling into despair or throwing up your hands and declaring the world is “fucked.”

It’s about holding grief and hope at the same time, anger and compassion, fear and trust—all without being pulled to extremes.

Neutrality doesn’t mean not feeling. It means allowing yourself to feel it all and accepting it. It’s about finding the other side you’re missing to uncover the true balance of a situation, even when it’s hard to do in the face of disaster. Fire, while destructive, also brings renewal, clearing space for growth and transformation.

Lately, I’ve heard so many people feeling guilty for turning off the news, stepping away from the chaos, or even feeling moments of joy amid the pain. But joy is not a betrayal of the suffering around us—it’s an act of resilience. Feeling gratitude or peace, even for a moment, doesn’t mean you’re ignoring the world’s struggles; it means you’re honoring your humanity.

It reminds us that we can feel deeply while still making room to rest, recharge, and find moments of joy without guilt. This is how we stay balanced, how we heal, and how we keep showing up.

Neutrality isn’t the absence of emotion; it’s the presence of acceptance. It’s standing in the middle of the storm and realizing you don’t have to control the wind. You can let it blow through you without resisting or chasing it.

It’s the ability to hold conflicting feelings—grief and gratitude, fear and trust, anger and compassion—and honor them all without needing to pick sides. It’s about recognizing the negative aspects of a disaster while also acknowledging the equal amounts of positives. Often, it takes hitting rock bottom to spark real change, and we see this not just in the aftermath of disasters, but in our personal lives as well.

This balance is how we grow. It’s how we face challenges without losing ourselves. When we can feel it all and still find our center, we become the calm within the storm.

Our emotions are no different. Anger creates space for action. Grief reminds us of what we deeply love. Jealousy sparks inspiration. Joy gives us the energy to keep going and the light to see what’s possible.

To feel it all is to be alive.

Whatever you’re feeling right now, know that it’s valid.

There’s no “right” way to feel. There’s just feeling. And that, in itself, is the most beautiful, balanced, and neutral thing we can do.

With Love & Gratitude,

Stephanie

Inner Shifts: Practical Takeaways

TL;DR:

• Feel everything fully: Sadness, empathy, fear, joy—let them coexist. There’s no need to choose one over the other.

• Get curious: Journal about what you’re feeling. Ask yourself, What’s underneath this? What is this emotion trying to teach me?

• Take action: Channel your energy into something meaningful. Donate, volunteer, speak out, send love, work on yourself, prepare—do what you can, even if it feels small.

• Release judgment: Let go of the idea that there’s a “right” way to feel or respond. You’re human, and all your emotions are valid.

• Take care of yourself: Don’t forget about your own well-being. Rest, nourish your body, and give yourself space to process everything you’re feeling.