Grace for a Smoky Season
There's a particular quality of light that comes with fire season — the sun a golden amber behind a haze that wasn't here a month ago. It's a reminder that we're all breathing something a little heavier right now, in more ways than one. Let me share a few gentle reminders:
Fire season. Island County is currently under a Type II Burn Ban — no open flames, fire pits, or fireworks. Please hold that with us, and see Firewise USA or WA Department of Natural Resources for home fire-resiliency tips.
Air quality. Conditions on South Whidbey can shift fast — check AirNow and the Washington Smoke Blog before heading outside, keep windows closed and purifiers running when smoke is heavy, and don't push through burning eyes, cough, or headache. Take care of yourselves and others.
Underneath it all, what I keep coming back to is this: we are all holding so much right now, and a lot of it is invisible to each other. I want to keep offering us all grace for that — grace for a slow reply or the need to step away, when we don't know what someone else is carrying. And I want to gently name something I've been sitting with: it’s one thing not to take things personally, but we need to equally take responsibility for our own emotions. We can hold both — extend the benefit of the doubt to each other, and still own how we're regulating what we're bringing into a room. Grace, held that way, moves in both directions.
I was reminded of that same spirit on August 15th, when I volunteered at the Huchoosedah festival in Seattle — a gathering that shares Coast Salish wisdom and ways of being in the right relationship with the land and each other. The moment that's stayed with me most was small: a young girl told her mom she wasn't ready to leave until they'd done the prayer walk. So they went, painted with the sacred red Lactide paint from Licton Springs, walking in prayerful step, quiet past the creeks and around the park. My heart is still full and warm from it. A similar spirit continues September 3–7, when Protectors of the Salish Sea host their 5th Annual Prayer Walk to Protect & Restore the Salish Sea on what is called San Juan Island — more details here and further below in this Newsletter.
I especially want to lift up an important film screening here at the Whidbey Institute: On Saturday, September 19th (6–8pm, Thomas Berry Hall), we're hosting a screening of Dark and Tender: The Big Island, a film by The Chronically UnderTouched (CUT) Project, with a Q&A hosted by producer Ben Wilson of Color of Sound. The film follows ten Black men on a journey to reclaim platonic touch and trust, shaking off violent narratives of Black masculinity to restore a basic human need. It's a by-donation event, and it feels like exactly the kind of tender, necessary gathering this moment is asking for. The Whidbey Institute is honored to appear in the first film! We'd love to see you there — RSVP and details here and further down under Community events in this Newsletter too.
However this season is finding you — smoke-heavy, tender, or somewhere in between — be gentle with yourself. Be gentle with each other and come walk our trails and be on the land if you need a safe place.