EP 112 | ASHEVILLE IS NOT OK

Hello from the heart of the apocalypse.

I am ok. I am safe and well with my partner Ian in Asheville.

As far as I know, my close soul fam and greater friend community here are safe. Some had big losses. Trees on houses, flooding, smashed cars. Some have left. Some are on rescue missions and gathering supplies and doing wellness checks and helping how they can. Everyone I love is alive and well and coping.

We are the lucky ones. I am so grateful. So many are suffering. Struggling. Many are lost. Missing. Hundreds are dead.

Much of Appalachia is irreversibly decimated. Water is off throughout the city for the foreseeable future, so we’ve been without running water for over a week now. (We are on a boil advisory when it finally comes back on. They say it could be 4-6 weeks or longer.)

Asheville is not ok. Appalachia and Western North Carolina are not ok. It is worse than you think. It is unspeakable. It is not over. This is just the beginning.

Lots of folks are in a bad way. Many people are without basic needs, medical care, access to water, electricity, food, and some have lost everything. There is widespread devastating damage to critical infrastructure. Two of the three water treatment plants in Asheville are totally destroyed. Fiber optic cables and cell towers were ripped out of the ground. The I-26 overpass to Tennessee has collapsed. I-40 West out of AVL will be closed for two years. There are hundreds of roads that are just gone. The mountains reformed themselves in a matter of hours.

The power of Nature is humbling. This will set the region back 100 years if not more.

Lake Lure. Chimney Rock. Swannanoa. Black Mountain. Spruce Pine. Marshall. Barnardsville. Weaverville. River Arts. Biltmore Village. Tunnel Road. These are just some of the worst hit spots that I have been able to see so far. I know it is calamity and catastrophe far beyond the scope of my own ability to understand it all.

This will take decades to recover from. They are saying this is a 30,000 year storm.

The first few days were total chaos. Cell service is spotty and slow and there is still no internet even with power. Many of us who work mostly online are not able to do so. Most places of business are closed. Many will not reopen. People have lost their homes. Their livelihoods. It feels like everything is cancelled forever.

The lack of communication and knowing how to get what you need was causing panic and crowds at grocery stores and gas stations. When people don’t have information and can’t connect, things get a little scary. When they don’t have water and food, things can get violent fast.

I have seen a little of that.

But more people being friendly, helping, connecting, and working together. I am always amazed at how disaster can bring out the best in people. This can and will bring us closer together if we choose.

We have food and drinking water. Gas was impossible to get for days and is now getting more plentiful. Availability of groceries and fuel and cash and power has softened things on the West side of Asheville for now.

We are developing new habits and routines within our pockets of community. Mostly revolving around getting water, food, and trying to make a plan for doing the same thing the next day.

At some point people will run out of money. There are so many long term issues and right now we are putting band aids on bullet wounds.

Please don’t forget about us.

My home has become a little sanctuary for my greater medicine family. It’s been beautiful to connect and offer a place to rest, share food, power devices, and just try to smile and sing for a bit.

We’ve been making jewelry and potions and spending quality, present time together. The blessings of the flood come in waves of warmth. There are many.

We are so fucking tired.

This is the new normal.

We are staying positive and doing our best to enjoy each other’s company, meet and connect with neighbors and friends, and generally be sweet humans to each other. I have pet a lot of cute dogs and shared a lot of freezer meals and wipes with former strangers who I now am on a first name basis with.

I haven’t been in Asheville long. But I have never loved a place more. This city is filled with beautiful community, creatives, artists, and spiritual seekers with huge hearts. The people here have a beautiful Appalachian spirit that endures. This land is powerfully healing. The forests and mountains and rivers and animals are our family. The land is made of quartz. The medicine is here. It is in the plants and the people and the wind and the water.

This mythic flood is a reckoning.

How can we come back into balance with the Earth? How can we change how we are living to be part of her cycles instead of at odds with them? What does disaster ask of us? How can we lean into faith, Spirit, community, and family? How can we create a new world? Who will stay and do the long haul work of replanting?

Because honestly, nothing else matters.

My spirit fam and I are leaving Asheville on Monday to head up to Maine to host a private retreat. We will be in ceremony for four days praying, singing, and healing together as a family.

I am grateful to be able to offer this gathering in this moment. I am grateful for my life and my health and having everything we need. I am grateful for fresh water, good food, and electricity. I am thankful for cell service in my living room, however spotty. I am grateful for gas and transportation. I am grateful for my soul family. I am grateful for my partner and his huge loving heart.

It’s hard to know what to do or where to go to help. My intuition reminds me that now is when we lean into our strengths.

What can you offer that can soften the crushing grief and terrible death of the way it was? That might not be driving door to door handing out water. That might not be running through the woods with a chainsaw rescuing people. How can you rescue yourself? Your neighbors? How can you be generous?

These are questions we will be asking over and over for a long time as we rebuild here.

We need community and connection more than ever now. Share your medicine where you are. Taking care of your mental and emotional and spiritual health is so so so important right now.

Empaths, healers, guides… take care of your hearts. Rest. Connect. Laugh. Don’t burn yourself down. This is gonna be a long haul and you are not alone. Every little thing matters. Every song. Every meal shared. Every cup of water. Every act of generosity. Every way you can open and soften. Every deep breath.

We are asking anyone who has a prayer you want to send with us for our beloved Appalachia to please send it to me via email at hello@sinclairfleetwood.com. We are making prayer ties to take to the gathering to put in the sacred fire. Anything you want to say thank you for, to release, to pray for, anyone who needs to send a message to the Great Mystery, please let us know.

If you want to help in the short term, donate to my Venmo @sinclairfleetwood, last 4 digits 5205

There are many great orgs in AVL you can donate to, AND giving money directly to people who live here is awesome. If you know an Appalachian, and have the means, send them some dough. Any amount helps.

Support small businesses and creatives. Hire us. Buy our art and services. Come to our events. Pay us to do work. 

If you want to help in the long term:
Sign up for coaching.
Join NEST.
Come to a retreat or ceremony.

I love you family.
I love you Asheville.
We will rise again.

Love,
Sinclair