When the Smoke Clears: Reflections and Resources for Healing After the Fires

Wildfires swept through parts of Los Angeles recently—this time touching Pacific Palisades and Altadena, sending smoke and panic across the basin. As someone whose office is in Calabasas, I found myself nervously watching the hills outside my window, tracking evacuation updates, and eventually packing up quickly when one of the fires came alarmingly close. Thankfully, that fire was put out quickly and the Palisades Fire going through Topanga was contained. My office was spared. But not everyone was so lucky.

My heart aches for those who lost homes or were forced to evacuate, unsure of what they’d return to—if anything. These recent fires brought up something deeply personal for me. My maternal grandmother’s family has roots that go back five generations in the Pasadena area. I grew up hearing stories of their early life here, and I’ve always carried a reverence for this land, this light, these hills.

Over the years, my family has lived in many parts of Los Angeles—Pasadena, Pacific Palisades, and Malibu. One of the homes I lived in as a child in Malibu burned to the ground about a year after we moved out. Even though we weren’t living there anymore, the loss was painful. It was a place that had held our memories. Seeing homes reduced to rubble—places that were once so familiar, streets I drove by frequently—it’s a disorienting and devastating sight.

These fires aren’t just environmental disasters—they are deeply human ones too.

When someone loses their home, or even just the sense of safety in their community, it doesn’t get resolved the moment the flames are extinguished. In the beginning, it’s all about survival: evacuating quickly, trying to save pets or precious belongings, figuring out what’s safe to eat or drink, where to go next. These are urgent, necessary decisions made in the midst of fear.

But once the adrenaline subsides—once you’re in a temporary rental or staring at what’s left of your home—the real emotional aftermath begins. That’s when trauma, grief, and PTSD can start to set in. It’s not uncommon to feel numb, or to be overwhelmed by waves of sadness, anger, guilt, or helplessness. This is a normal and human response to an abnormal and heartbreaking situation.

As a therapist who specializes in trauma, I want to offer a few tools—gentle suggestions—for those who are navigating the emotional aftermath of the fires. These are ways to reconnect with your body, your emotions, and your sense of self during a time that feels so destabilizing:

10 Ways to Take Care of Yourself After a Wildfire:

1. Shake Your Body – Animals instinctively shake off stress after a threat passes. Try literally shaking your limbs in the air while laying on your back or doing a full-body shake standing up. It can help release stored adrenaline and signal to your body that you’re safe now.

2. Listen to Music That Matches Your Mood – Let yourself cry. Let yourself sing loudly. Let yourself *feel*. Music can help us move emotions that feel stuck.

3. Dance – Even if it’s just in your living room. Movement brings life back into the body. Let yourself move freely without judgment.

4. Exercise – Gentle movement or more vigorous workouts can help regulate your nervous system and rebuild a sense of routine and control.

5. Journal – Write about what happened. Let the words come uncensored. Your story matters, and processing it on paper can be deeply therapeutic.

6. Practice Self-Compassion – You may feel numb, grateful, angry, guilty, overwhelmed—or all of it at once. Every emotion is valid. Speak to yourself with kindness, the way you’d talk to a friend.

7. Rest – You might feel exhausted, emotionally and physically. Rest is not a luxury—it’s a need. Give yourself permission to slow down.

8. Hug Someone – Whether it’s a loved one, a friend, or a furry companion. Physical touch helps regulate our nervous systems and reminds us we’re not alone.

9. Talk to Loved Ones – Share your story, your fears, your memories. Let people support you. Healing happens in connection.

10. Talk to a Trauma-Informed Therapist – Especially if you’re feeling anxious, hypervigilant, depressed, or stuck. You don’t have to carry this alone.

This city holds so many of our stories—ours and those who came before us. The land remembers. And we remember too. Healing doesn’t mean forgetting or pushing forward at full speed. It means honoring what was lost, acknowledging the pain, and gently finding ways to move forward—one breath, one moment, one step at a time.

If you’ve been impacted by the fires and are struggling, I see you. I’m here. And you’re not alone.

With deep care,

Courtney Killough, LMFT
Therapist | Trauma Specialist
Calabasas, CA