I am heavily into writing today. Wrestling a chapter on the “Limbo” stage of disaster. You’ve
probably all heard me talk about this and I’ve written about it in the aftermath of storms since
Katrina.

This limbo circumstance of being trapped in the in between. Can’t move forward. Can’t go back.
Waiting. But with an element of dread. Because some system holds your fate in a dehumanized
process. Limited means of recourse and everything at stake.

As we emerge from the Limbo stage after disasters, people gradually learn what is and isn’t
available. Who will and won’t be helped. Disasters and these exercises are always revelatory
and you can expect that any ugly, stingy underlying assumptions baked into systems will be
revealed. Alongside the bravery and determination of those insisting on making it work as fairly
as possible.

As I watch brutal political conflicts play out, and the ferocity of attempts to exclusively insure
the voices and votes of some and the absolute exclusion of others … I remind myself that the
next stage is Reckoning.

Will the midterms be our Reckoning? Will our national birthday be one of those “gratitude and
grief in equal measure” moments I’ve written about for twenty years?