The Painted Cave Wildfire roared through Santa Barbara when I was 20 years old, blackening 5,000 acres, destroying 427 homes, killing countless animals, and taking one precious human life.
My neighborhood was leveled, and my home was gone. I fell into a depression so deep and oppressive that I could not imagine any other way of being.
Two long years later, I began to notice a subtle change. To my bewilderment and delight, delicate tendrils of interest emerged from my charred inner landscape. Tiny shoots of ambition miraculously unfurled, first one and then another. I began to move... Read More