Wildfire Smoke

The first day of the air quality concerns in New York City, I was getting ready to go to the office when I received a text from my mom. “They’re telling New Yorkers to wear a mask if they absolutely have to be out.” 

I knew we may be getting the smoke from the Canadian wildfires but in the midst of a busy week, it wasn’t front of mind as I packed my lunch and my laptop and clipped back my hair. 

But because of this text, I grabbed a clean mask from the linen cupboard and headed out the door. On every leg of my commute, I was glad to have some level of protection against the air. 

After work, my friends and I went to an indoor American Sign Language event. As we left the venue that night, we marveled at the orange tint of the sky. “It would be really beautiful if this wasn’t all so damn apocalyptic,” we muttered under our masks. 

I got home that night and began to contemplate my next two days of running—outside, obviously, not being an option. I have runner friends in the neighborhood I knew would have the scoop on gym day passes and trials. I was immediately greeted with advice. On Friday, I did a gym trial day. On Saturday, I bought a day pass.

And how fortunate to still be able to workout in this mess. To be able to move my body and prioritize my health and my goals in a safe way. To be willing and able to pay $22 for access to a treadmill.

How fortunate to watch yesterday’s thunderstorm intensify from the comfort of the subway cart, only to have my partner meet me at the station with a big umbrella. How fortunate to be able to immediately wash my sweaty, smoky clothing. To leave my wet shoes in the stairwell to salvage the smell of the family room.

How fortunate to be able to stay home. To tackle projects around the house. To not have to be out in the bad weather.

Thursday night I was feeling pretty bummed about the air quality. I was frustrated about having to rethink my running routine and feeling overwhelmed by a seemingly endless to-do list, now more complicated. But I do have solutions for these things. The most I’m bumping into is a mild inconvenience. 

Others aren’t so lucky. We might all be in the same storm but we have different levels of rain gear.

As we head into a new week where at least I’ll continue to check the AQI first thing each morning, perhaps we look for ways to lighten the load for someone else. To look out for our neighbors. To offer to pick up groceries for someone who can’t leave the home as easily. To share resources, masks, and support. To help outdoor workers know their rights around clean-air accommodation. These are how we find silver linings in scary times. Neighbors looking out for neighbors. Community taking care of community.

Maybe it’s a text from an out of state parent reminding you to wear a mask. Or a message from a friend with a gym recommendation. Or someone standing in sopping shoes, holding an umbrella so you can brave the storm together. Show up for your people. That’s how we get through it.