I wrote this breathing entry last year, but unfortunately, it’s as true this summer as it was last summer. Today I changed the names of the Hurricanes and Tropical storms to update. However, today’s AQIs are not nearly as dramatic as last year’s, so I left those numbers from last as they were; it’s much more exciting.
Shall we pretend together, and maybe even find a moment of gratitude for the fact that it is not as bad today as it was a year ago? (Air wise, not virus wise). However, it is, in many, many ways worse, because it is an entire month later), and because Greenville, sadly, has been completely leveled. Here I go, plagiarizing myself, but for the fact I am at this very minute telling you about it…all so I can go out of town for a little fresh air. Confession.
Okay: what follows is the actual post…
Today, I can’t breathe particularly well. I’m not seeking sympathy, nor am I suggesting that I am alone in this. I live in California, and I’m more than sure (what’s that: certain?) that there are plenty of us who feel like this. I heard there’s some sort of fire around the West Coast.
A BBQ fire? Nah, it’s a little smokier than that. Air Quality Index today at 171 (where we live), is actually much better than it’s been. And at 171 compared to the Maroon Plus indicator (not to be confused with the boy band, “Maroon 5”), we are many, bad many particles far from Beijing. I mean, what do we do on “Spare the Air” days when there isn’t actually any air to spare?
STOP! Please read the next sentence with a voice like a carnival barker, a Mafia guy, or any Christopher Walken movie, ever: “Don’t sweat it, sweetheart, we’ve got your thimbleful of air right here!” (That was better, right?).
So, yeah, compared to a couple of days ago, we’ve got gorgeous air, even if by the teensiest of air sips. Sooo much better today, so who am I to complain? (Just one more person who can’t breathe, that’s who).
The other day, I almost got into a text face-off with a friend who lives in Oregon. I explained that our AQI was pretty bad at around 250 something. She scoffed. “We were at 350!” Hazardous. Then I told her that my Mom’s AQI was so bad “they” could barely measure it. Snap! On the government’s funky little Maroon 5 chart, my friend and her community were at an AQI of 450 something. (450 is higher than 350, if my high school math still serves!). Mom’s numbers were so high that it is almost reaching new AQI chart levels. Off the chart levels.What’s after Maroon 5? Silver? Gold? Anyway, my Oregon friend and I could have come to socially distant blows as we did our bad-air-face off, but then I realized that’s just the downfall of texting. Maybe we weren’t about to have a texting face-off at all, and it was all just my imagination, the drama I was making up in my head. Totally possible. A combination of nothing good on Netflix and Key and Peele’s “Texting Confusion.”
So, in my head, I smoothed it all over; there were no blows blown, and the dueling AQI’s became just one more text exchange in the midst of thousands more since Covid-19 began, indefinitely ruining all of everyone’s lives for all of our indefinite eternity.
Ah, Covid, you bastard! Just in case the virus wasn’t enough to get you down (or Hurricanes Linda, Tropical storms Fred and Grace, etc.), the fires are here to make our day. Southern CA? Central CA? Northern, CA? Check, check, and check. Okay, other states matter, too, as my friend’s situation reminds me. Oregon? Check. Washington? Check. Yep, between Covid and the bazillion fires, things are sort of sucky right now, not to put too fine a point on it. Air quality. As it turns out, we all need to breathe! Who would have guessed?
As we face these fires, alongside Covid, I have to confess, I am not excited about any of it. Covid, Delta or otherwise: nasty. Not breathing: also nasty. Not breathing due to the fire, then combined with Covid? Nasty squared. What the hell, world?
I really want to breathe; please, please God, let me breathe. (If there really is a God, can we all just agree on this: sickest sense of humor evah!)? This pseudo-prayer makes me think of how many hours of breathing, days of breathing, I have taken for granted during my 51 years. I think of how grounding the breath is, and how one of the things that has gotten me through all of this Covid nightmare (pre-fire anyway) is meditating. A simple, “focus on the breath.” However, now that “focus on the breath” is not only uncomfortable, it’s nigh impossible. Or it’s impossible not to “focus on the breath;” I’m not sure.
May we all breathe freely and easily in the hours and days to come. May we all stay safe and healthy. For those who have lost your homes, we feel for you. For those who have lost their loved ones, we feel for you. I feel for you. Now, where did I put my cigarettes? *
A closing joke that may not be funny. I get it.