I live in Los Angeles, and after this past week, I’ve struggled with what to share in this week’s Monday Insight. I’m not yet in sense-making mode, so I thought I’d share a much more personal message and update instead. 

First, let me say that we’re safe, and our home wasn’t affected. While friends and family have lost property, they are all safe as well. We’re very fortunate.

Last Tuesday afternoon we got word that the Palisades was on fire. I immediately called my dear friend who lives there and thankfully, she had already evacuated her home. We have no idea if it’s still standing, but the chances are very slim. 

Tuesday evening the Eaton fire in Altadena broke out, where my partner, Pete, grew up. His 89-year-old dad and 77-year-old aunt live in the house he grew up in, and they evacuated to our home and are now staying with us indefinitely. Fortunately, while their home is filled with soot, it is still standing. However, their guest house was burned to the ground, along with the home behind it and many others in the neighborhood and city. Who knows how long they’ll be without power or water, so they’ll likely be with us for the foreseeable future. That said, we feel incredibly fortunate to have the space to house them—and a strange blessing to have this unexpected time together.

On Wednesday, Pete took them back to their house to retrieve some belongings, and the area looks like a war zone. Here’s a photo of them walking up the driveway the day after the fire started.

People are grappling with the weight of lost memories and ways of life that are suddenly gone. The middle school Pete attended is gone. The drugstore where Pete’s dad has been a regular for decades—where everyone knows him by name—burned down, along with the entire business district it was part of.

On Wednesday night, just as we sat down for dinner, the Sunset fire in Runyon Canyon ignited—just two miles from our house. While we weren’t in the immediate evacuation zone, we packed our bags and put them in the car, knowing how quickly things can turn. Thankfully, firefighters knocked that fire down quickly, and by midnight it was clear we weren’t in danger. We finally went to bed.

Throughout the city, fires continue to pop up, leaving everyone on edge. Many of my friends have lost their homes, and almost everyone I’ve spoken to has either had to evacuate or is housing people who have. Our collective nervous systems are exhausted, the grief is palpable, and the enormity of what’s ahead is starting to sink in.

Friday night we had just sat down with Pete’s dad and aunt to watch Wicked at home when my brother called. The Palisades Fire was moving towards their house in Encino. While he and his family weren’t in the evacuation zone, it was expanded close to them and they weren’t feeling safe. He, his wife and my niece and nephew came over and we had a massive slumber party (which the kids were very excited for!).

Saturday morning, I went to yoga, and it felt like the first “normal” thing I’ve done all week. Even then, it’s surprising how much emotion is lingering just beneath the surface. When I left the gym, my yoga teacher joined me in the elevator to the parking garage. She pressed the button, looked over, and asked with knowing eyes, “How are you doing?” I immediately felt the tremble in my chest as my eyes welled up, and I just said, “Okay. You?” Her eyes softened as she replied, “Same.”

Tragedy of any kind tends to bring perspective. It’s almost cliché to say, but times like these remind us how much we need one another and how deeply relationships matter. The way people are pulling together and supporting one another is truly beautiful. Neighbors near both our house and Pete’s dad’s house in Altadena have been incredible. I’ve also received so many messages from people across the country asking if we’re okay or if we need a place to stay—even just to get out of Dodge for a bit.

As I said at the start of this message, I’m not much in sense-making mode yet, but if a few takeaways are beginning to emerge for me, they are:

• People are amazing. Not all of them, and not all of the time, but far more than we see reflected in the media. Tragedy or extreme circumstances reveal more of who we are, and I’m seeing a lot of beauty all around me. I think we intrinsically know this, but it’s been driven home for me this week.
• We need one another. Modern society has stripped us of relying on one another in “normal” times with all our conveniences, but times of crisis remind us of this fundamental truth: we truly are in this together, and we only get through it together.
• Life is fleeting, so if you know you’re here for a purpose, get to it. I often talk about activating “Humanity’s New Story,” and in times like this, that quickly shifts from being an idea or concept to a tangible necessity.

May we all find strength in one another, purpose in the challenges that lie ahead, and beauty in the connections that carry us through.

Big love,
Jeffrey