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There is so. much. smoke. The air is unbreathable in the Sierras, and only just ok down in the San Francisco Bay Area.

My heart is broken. Equanimity feels like a tall order. I’ve eaten far too many peanut butter cookies, as solace.

On the other hand, where there’s smoke, there’s fire. How do equanimity and motivation work together? What if we could find a balance between the two, taking good care of ourselves and also saving the planet? Don’t we owe it to ourselves, and the seven generations to come, to give it a try?

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