How one therapist is coping with BC’s fire season

Written By Kasia Stepien

My cat Zucchini, enjoying a warm sunny spot on the couch.

After several miraculous days of rain and cool weather, the heat is returning on Vancouver Island. I feel mentally rested and restored by the break in hot, dry weather. But already, fear and worry are starting to edge into my mind when I look at the sunny forecast. I wonder, when did I start calling summer “fire season”?

Last week, the Mount Underwood fire started near Port Alberni, which quickly escalated into a 3641 hectare blaze (yes, I’ve been watching the BC Wildfire Dashboard). I’m safely far away in the Comox Valley, but when I walked to the high spot at the back of my farm last week with a view to the south, there it was – a smoke plume big enough to be seen across the island from 80 kilometers away. A few days later, smoke descended on the valley. We had family visiting from Vancouver with their little baby, and it was bad enough they left early to get away from the dangerous air.

Since the rain came, the fire stopped growing, and became mostly a smoldering ground fire. But it’s still a long way from being put out.

Let’s pause a moment here. Take a breath. I’m safe right now, and dear reader, I hope you are too. Let’s press our feet into the ground, let out a sigh, and check our internal weather report. What thoughts and feelings are here? I notice thoughts of worry, memories of the book “Fire Weather”, chastising myself for not having kitty litter yet in my emergency bins. I notice feelings of fear, uncertainty, and sadness are here. I place a hand on my heart, and offer myself kind words: “There there, Kasia. Yes, this is scary. May you be safe, may you be well in this moment”. One of my cats crawls into my arms, and I snuggle him close.

I hear a siren, and a van from the Merville Fire Rescue speeds by my house. My goodness, could their timing be more comical? I notice an urge to check the fire map or local news, then remind myself that it’s not necessary. Emergencies happen all the time that won’t directly impact me. If I need to know, I’ll be alerted by the regional emergency alert system. If I need to evacuate, I’ve made plans and preparations that are good enough (kitty litter will be found). I snuggle my cat again, and smile gently to myself. There there, Kasia.

So, dear reader, how am I coping with fire season? Here’s my strategy, informed by Acceptance and Commitment Therapy and emergency response planning.

  1. Get familiar with the difficult thoughts and feelings that arise around extreme weather. Practice noticing and naming them. Learn to unhook from them, so I can mindfully choose my actions (instead of getting pulled into unhelpful behaviours like doomscrolling, avoidance, or checking the Wildfire Dashboard for the hundredth time today). Talk about it with other people.

  2. Plan and prepare for what I can.

  3. Keep living a meaningful life in the present moment. I’m informed and prepared well enough. So I put aside my worries when they arise (over and over again), and remind myself of what else matters to me here and now. I’m going to post this, hug my cat, eat some breakfast, add kitty litter to my shopping list, then go enjoy the warm sun on my face after all these days of rain.

Kasia Stepien