How nature rebuilds after a fire

Photo by Caleb Cook on Unsplash

In 2009, my New York City apartment building caught fire. I lost nearly everything I owned, and I almost got trapped in the building. I’ve written a lot about that incident, the terrifying PTSD that followed, and the therapist and friends who helped lead me out of the darkness I’d shoved down my entire life up to that point so I could fully step into the light for the first time. (You can read some of those pieces here and here.)

Watching the coverage of the LA fires and doing whatever I can to help people there wasn’t triggering for me. However, it did leave me with a profound sadness because I know first-hand how painful it is to lose everything and then face the difficulty of rebuilding my life and my mental health. It’s a long and winding road. Fire physically, chemically, and irreversibly alters everything it touches, us included.

When I’m sad, confused, or lost, I often turn to nature. As a biomimicry scientist, it’s become a habit for me to ask, “What would nature do?” Nature has faced fire for hundreds of megaannums; the first evidence of it appears in the fossil record about 420 million years ago, with charcoaled plant remains. (By comparison, the mass extinction of dinosaurs happened about 66 million years ago.) When destroyed by fire, how does nature rebuild? Time, variety, and assistance.

Rebuilding requires time
The dramatic before and after photos of a fire may lead us to believe that the rebuilding begins as soon as the fire is snuffed out. However, without plants to anchor the soil, storms that follow wildfires can cause even more damage through massive flooding and erosion. The post-fire damage can continue for years.

After my fire, my PTSD caused years of difficulty, long after I had a new home and had replaced my belongings. This was also true when I finished active cancer treatment many years later. The effects of life-altering events cannot be immediately known. Healing isn’t linear and it often takes longer than we’d like. The impacts unfold at a pace that we don’t control. Give yourself the space and grace to take it all in, process it, and move forward on whatever timeline you need.

Rebuilding requires variety
After a fire, nature re-establishes itself by re-anchoring the soil. Native plants that have that ability are the first to take root. That includes hardy varieties of grasses, trees, and shrubs that can survive through harsh conditions. Their ability to stabilize the landscape paves the way for an even greater variety of plants to return with time.

When we’re rebuilding, we can feel overwhelmed. We want everything to immediately go back to the way it was, and the fact that we know it can’t be that way can leave us feeling paralyzed. Focusing on one step at a time and prioritizing immediate steps that make other steps possible, can help.

When I moved into my new apartment after my fire, I had 2 plastic CVS bags of belongings and an air mattress I borrowed from a friend. The emptiness of that space gave me so much anxiety. I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and asked myself, “What do I need right now?” I needed a toothbrush, a towel, and some soap. So, I went and got those three small things. That was the groundwork I needed on that first day, in that first moment. The rest could wait.

Rebuilding requires assistance
While these native plants begin to grow, invasive species will often try to muscle their way into the space. Rewilders and forestry experts will often give nature a hand by removing invasive species, allowing native plants the time, space, and resources they need to grow and develop.

My PTSD was an invasive species. Anxiety, nightmares, and suicidal thoughts tried to set up shop in my mind and body. Sometimes they succeeded. One time I woke up sitting on the sidewalk crying. I had no idea how I got there, nor how long I’d been there. My PTSD was causing me to have blackouts.

I was afraid to be home, and I was afraid to not be home. Every siren was cause for internal alarm, and New York City has a lot of sirens.

Friends and my therapist offered to help, and though I tried to brush them off, some were persistent. They were my rewilders. They showed up against my objections and began to help me pull the weeds of PTSD from my mind and body. It wasn’t a pleasant experience for any of us, but it was necessary. Without them, I wouldn’t be here. The PTSD would have taken over, preventing my recovery.

When you go through something traumatic, ask for and accept help. When you see someone going through trauma, don’t wait to be asked to help. Show up and lend a hand. None of us get through recovery alone.

Encouragement for Angelenos
Los Angeles, we’re with you. You’re not alone in any of this. This whole nation cares what happens to you, and we’ll continue to care and help you get back on your feet. The ground is already being seeded with love, donations, and generosity. The road to recovery will be long and difficult, and we’ll be there to build it with you. Nature has given us the blueprint.