The Palisades Fire has left a trail of devastation across Los Angeles, turning dreams into ashes and lives into stories of resilience. Among the countless homes that fell victim to the flames, the magical Topanga sanctuary my girlfriend and I shared—a space filled with love, creativity, and spiritual practice—was reduced to rubble. The space was a manifestation of my deepest values and passions.
With its breathtaking view of the valley and Pacific Ocean, it was a place where inspiration thrived, where life felt balanced and meaningful. But in the blink of an eye, it was gone, along with nearly all my possessions.
Inventory of What I Lost
When I think about what I lost, it feels like an inventory of my soul:
Between 50 and 100 cherished spiritual books that shaped my understanding and growth.
Years of meticulous research stored in binders, notecards, and notebooks.
Essential files, important paperwork, and deeply personal writings.
Every piece of clothing and shoe I owned.
The tools of my daily life—kitchenware, furniture, rugs, and decorations.
Artwork I had poured my heart into creating.
My meditation cushion, yoga mat, and yoga blankets, which supported my daily practice.
Sacred altar items, symbols of my spiritual journey.
My harmonium, a vessel for musical meditation.
Handmade pottery, carrying the marks of creativity and presence.
Each of these items carried memories and meaning. Yet, in their absence, I find myself standing at a profound crossroads.
What I Saved
Amidst the ruins, there were a few things I managed to save. They feel like small miracles, reminders of what truly endures:
The clothes on my back and the essential tools of my daily work—my laptops and headphones.
A single deck of tarot cards and the first physical copy of my Journey Through Meditation book, now more meaningful than ever.
A picture of my meditation teacher and an altar item gifted by him, symbolic of spiritual guidance that transcends the material.
My guitar, an instrument of expression and solace.
My passport, essential for travel.
These items saved are a blessing that are now more meaningful than ever and a reminder of what is most essential to me.
What Survived
Amidst the ashes of my home, two items left behind survived the fire—a Buddha statue and an obelisk crystal.
The Buddha statue, once the centerpiece of my meditation altar, remained steadfast among the rubble. Its survival felt like a profound reminder of the teachings I hold closest: the impermanence of life, the practice of non-attachment, and the strength that comes from inner peace. Despite the destruction surrounding it, the statue exuded an unshakable serenity, grounding me in the present and reminding me that true refuge lies within.
My girlfriend’s black obelisk crystal, left behind in the bedroom, was a striking formation born from the fiery force of molten lava. This crystal, with its sharp lines and powerful presence, seemed to symbolize resilience and transformation. It felt like a message from the universe, a testament to the idea that beauty and strength can emerge from intense heat and pressure.
Lessons in Impermanence
Losing so much at once is an unthinkable tragedy, but it is also an unparalleled lesson in the central teaching of impermanence. Meditation has always been my anchor—a practice that teaches us to detach from material possessions and find peace within. Yet, this experience is testing the depth of my understanding in ways I could not have imagined.
When the external world is stripped away, the inner world becomes all the more critical. I’ve realized that the most meaningful possessions—the ones I cannot lose—are the practices, lessons, and inner peace cultivated through years of dedication.
This fire left me grieving, but it also left me humbled. It has invited me to let go, not just in theory but in action, to find a deeper level of non-attachment and embrace the profound truth that peace comes from within.
Moving Forward
Rebuilding takes time. But I’m bouncing back faster than I ever could have imagined. My Journey Through Meditation book (available right now in ebook form), which I held in my hands as I fled the fire, feels like a symbol of what I still have to offer—a beacon for myself and others navigating life’s storms.
Already, so many friends, family, and employers have supported my girlfriend and I in our transition process by offering us support in the form of money, ebook sales, food, clothes, and places to live.
To anyone reading this, I invite you to reflect on the impermanence in your life. What are the possessions or attachments you hold onto? What remains when they are stripped away? Let this be a reminder to cherish what truly matters and to find stability within yourself, no matter the external chaos.
The journey continues, one step, one breath, and one moment at a time.