(Photo by Karsten Winegeart, courtesy of Unsplash)
On a recent Sunday morning I awoke to the sound of my wife’s voice shouting my name, followed by “Call nine-one-one! Call nine-one-one!” The garage on the property just beyond our backyard fence was ablaze.
The 9-1-1 operator told me that fire engines were already on the way. That was reassuring, but the view from the window was terrifying. Flames were shooting in all directions, and smoke was billowing and swirling, changing direction with the wind. Some of it had seeped into our house even though every door and window was closed.
Having heard how quickly fire can spread, and with the burning garage a couple of feet from one end of our fence, and with trees, bushes, and dead branches not much further away, the adrenaline kicked in and with it a flood of thought: If the fire heads in our direction, what do we do? Will the garden hose be of any use? Meanwhile, do we leave the house or stay inside? Either way, I should get dressed. What should I wear? How cold is it out there? If we have to evacuate, what do I take with me? Item number one: my laptop. What else? Should I throw some items in a suitcase? Do I have time to eat something? I need coffee!
On and on it went. Thankfully, none of those decisions had to be made. The fire trucks arrived promptly (one of the advantages of life in a small town) along with reinforcements from towns a few miles away. The immediate threat to property—not just ours, but other nearby homes—ended fairly quickly. Within a couple of hours, the flames had pretty much been extinguished and the smoke was minimal. Fortunately, it was a chilly, drizzly day.
All was well, but there were lessons to be learned in the aftermath. They can be summed up by the Arab aphorism: Trust in Allah, but tie your camel to the post.
Practical spirituality is not just the title of my Substack; it’s also something of a guiding principle in my life. Among other things, it means that one can aspire to—and cultivate through practice—what the Bhagavad Gita refers to as “Equanimity in pleasure and pain, gain and loss, victory and defeat.” I’ve argued that being rooted in such a state not only preserves one’s inner peace regardless of outer conditions; it also provides a platform for more effective action. Cooler heads prevail and all that.
This is not just theoretical. Practitioners of various spiritual methods have commonly experienced it and research backs up the claim. I’ve noticed it in myself over the years. But (gratefully) I haven’t had many chances to see what would actually happen when stuff hits the proverbial fan. I now must humbly report that I was not entirely equanimous when I saw the flames and smoke. More so than I would have been a decade or two (and certainly three or four) ago, but not quite what I’d imagined I’d be like in a real emergency.
It’s an important lesson because over the years I’ve seen a great deal of what seems like spiritual confidence but sometimes amounts to spiritual complacency. It’s a sense that one is protected from the usual slings and arrows of outrageous fortune. For some, the feeling is rooted in their faith in a personified deity (“God is my protector”); for others, it’s a sense of being aligned with the beneficent energy that guides the cosmos; for still others, like me, it’s an evidence-based inference that effective practices rewire the system for inner stability and mental coherence, and such qualities will prevail in a crisis.
But, you never know. Hence, tie your camel to the post.
In all the years we lived in Los Angeles—ground zero for earthquakes and fires—we heard countless times that we should have bags packed and emergency kits in the house and the car. Did we do it? Nah. Did we create an evacuation plan? Nope. Establish action steps for various contingencies? Nada.
When the fire was out and neighbors gathered to view the damage, someone gave us a bit of advice: walk through your house taking video of everything in every room, and save the recording in a safe place. Why? For insurance purposes should your house burn down.
Great idea. Four days later, have I done it? Have I done any of those things? But I will, I swear! Will you?
