In the Wake of Wildfire, Occupation, and Election: A Future We Reclaim Together

Digital collage by Daní Padilla, Gazan Sunbirds Rise Above the Fire

In the Wake of Wildfire, Occupation, and Election: A Future We Reclaim Together- Dani Padilla

Yesterday morning, I woke to the results of the election in the lands of the Lenape People, colonially known as Philadelphia. Despite the golden and crimson leaves, it felt like a summer day.  November 6, 2024.  80 degrees. The city is on drought watch after 39 days without rainfall – the longest “dry spell” since 1874.

Just a few weeks ago, I stood on my weathered wooden balcony, the murmur of the Silverado stream carrying a familiar comfort as it wound its way through the place I am honored to call mi rinconcito en el cielo—the ancestral and present day lands of the Tongva Gabrielino and Acjachemen peoples. That day, the hills that usually greet me were fading, vanishing beneath an encroaching veil of smoke. The air was thick, cloaking everything in a somber gray and casting the sun in a haunting shade of red. It felt like our world was offering us a reflection into something that reached far beyond the land we could touch..

The thick gray smoke, which blanketed the skies and turned the sun into an ominous red, mirrored the deeper crisis we are living through—a political crisis, a planetary emergency, yes, AND –  a profound spiritual and ecological reckoning. 

That day, as the fires edged closer, we had to evacuate. While I packed my belongings, all I could think about was the devastation happening not just here on Turtle Island, but also halfway across the world in Gaza. That same day across the world in Gaza, an Israeli airstrike tore through a crowded tent camp where displaced Palestinians had sought refuge. At least 40 people were killed, entire families lost beneath the rubble. The camp, Muwasi, had been designated a humanitarian zone, a place where civilians were meant to be safe. Yet, it became the site of unimaginable loss.

According to the United Nations Environment Programme's assessment, the constant bombings and military actions in Gaza have left 39 million tons of debris, much of it contaminated with hazardous materials that have devastated the environment and human health​. 

Gaza’s freshwater system, including the vital Coastal Aquifer, is collapsing under the weight of contamination from untreated sewage and agricultural runoff​. The siege, military actions, and destruction of wastewater treatment facilities have led to the daily release of 60,000 cubic meters of untreated sewage into the Mediterranean Sea​. This pollution does more than poison the water; it taints the soil that Palestinians rely on to sustain future generations.

The fires near my home felt like a mirror to the destruction unfolding in real time—a reflection of the deeper crisis that connects us all, from the burning hillsides and mountains of California, to the bombed-out streets and genocide of Gaza, to the flooded lands of North Carolina, to the ravaged mines of the Democratic Republic of Congo, to the deforested desertified lands of Sudan. The weight of these tragedies urges us  to face the parallels of our lived reality, across our planet, with open eyes and hearts ready to act. 

When the land suffers, so do we.

Threads of Grief 

Ecocide is an attack on the very land that sustains life.

Environmental devastation and climate disaster, here and across the globe, calls us to witness the profound First Noble Truth of the Buddha’s teachings in a collective way.  Dukkha (suffering) is not only individual; it is embedded within the wordly structures around us, arising from deep-rooted patterns that often go unexamined. Fires, occupation, environmental destruction—all are signs of deeper imbalances of greed, hatred and delusion, expressing themselves in actions that have fractured our relationship with the earth and one another. 

This teaching calls us to look beyond the immediate pain and recognize suffering as part of an interconnected web of conditions. Healing one part of this world—be it an ecosystem, a community, or a spirit—requires a commitment to mending them all.

The land is a living being with its own spirit, its own pulse. The air that fills our lungs, the water that satiates our thirst, the soil that sustains our food—they are all part of an intricate, living web that binds us to the earth and to each other. Our relationship with the land is one of profound interbeing. 

A Shared Existence  

As we reckon with  the results of the election, we stand at a threshold—a moment shaped by the legacy of colonialism, exploitation, and the unchecked concentration of power. The Sunrise Movement estimates that we have about 6 years to avert irreversible climate catastrophe.  No extensions for unfavorable political conditions.

We are not separate from the earth; we are an extension of it. Our duty, then, is not just to inhabit it, but to honor, protect, and nurture it as it nurtures us.  In this moment of transition, we have an opportunity to reflect on how we will carry out this sacred mission in our current political climate.

As we move through this shared struggle, I am reminded of Palestinian poet Fadwa Tuqan’s poem, Existence– her words remind us that despite the distances and the devastation, existence itself is a bond that cannot be broken. She writes:

".....then the bleak blackness broke
and in the twin tremors
of our entwined hands
I had found my missing answer.

Oh you! Oh you intimate and distant!
Don’t you remember the coalescence
Of our spirits in the flames?
Of my universe with yours?
Of the two poets?
Despite our great distance,
Existence unites us”

Tuqan’s words offer us guidance for engagement beyond this election cycle.

When we see the sacredness in lands we may never touch, and the dignity in people we may never meet, we remember  that our shared existence transcends all borders and lands, connecting us in shared purpose — reverence for life.

It is in recognizing the depth of our connection to all other beings and the earth itself, even across borders and oceans, we truly find our power.   It is a power that has always been here. We have always been connected, always meant to move together through this existence, bound by the land, by our struggles, and by the sacred work of becoming the medicine our worlds need today.

At BPF, as we cross the threshold of the most recent election, we commit to deepening our support for environmental justice movement leaders and participants.  And we are clearing out dream space to envision what this expression of Engaged Buddhism looks like over the next four years and beyond.

Sending you care and deep breaths this week as you grieve, rage, connect, and recommit to what you care about most, what is yours to nurture and protect in this shared existence.

Con todo amor,

Daní Padilla

Co-Director, Resource Mobilization