Navigating Your 9am Meeting When Your World's On Fire

Los Angeles is on fire, and you might be expected to join your 9am meeting like nothing's wrong.

It's not business as usual. Not when your phone is pinging with evacuation alerts between emails. Not when you're cycling between answering work messages and reassuring loved ones that yes, you're okay, no, you're not in the evacuation zone, yes, you'll keep them updated. Not when you're trying to focus while your phone lights up with check-ins that – though well-meaning – you feel guilty about not having responded promptly.

(And if you're someone checking on loved ones in LA right now: We see your care and concern. Consider sending one "thinking of you" text rather than multiple check-ins. Your friend will reach out when they can, and when they do, they'll remember your kindness.)

For remote workers, this moment is uniquely complex. While physical offices across LA are closing their doors, your laptop stays open. Your meetings continue. Your deadlines remain. Even from evacuation sites. Even from temporary housing. Even from wherever you've found safety.

But here's something we don't talk about enough: Sometimes during a crisis, work isn't just another obligation – it's an anchor.

Maybe you need that routine right now. Maybe your calendar notifications and regular meetings are providing structure when everything else feels uncertain. Maybe logging on remotely helps you feel connected to people when the rest of your world feels chaotic.

On the flip side.  maybe you need space. Maybe you need to hop on without your camera. Maybe you need to reschedule that presentation. Maybe you need to let your team know you're not at your best today. Maybe you need to request time off. 

All of it is okay, and all of it is normal in grief.

We talk a lot about stepping away from work during crisis – and sometimes that's exactly what we need. But sometimes work is the steady ground we're searching for. The familiar tasks that help us cope. The purpose that keeps us moving forward. You're not "avoiding your grief" if you find some relief in your daily tasks. You're not "doing it wrong" if your Zoom meetings provide much-needed moments of normalcy.

The key is balance: letting work be an anchor without pretending everything's fine. You can show up for that team meeting AND make space for your grief. You can find comfort in routine AND give yourself breaks when you need them. You can be professional AND human.

If you're in the crisis zone:

• Be honest about your capacity - it might change hour-by-hour

• Disclose what you want to share - nothing more, nothing less

• Keep your camera off when you need to - remote work means you don't have to maintain a brave face

• Take micro-breaks between meetings to check updates or respond to family

• Give yourself permission to find comfort in routine

• Let your team know when you might be unreachable

• Make space for grief throughout your workday - it's going to be there anyway

If you're managing or working with someone in crisis:

• Trust that "I'm okay" text - don't keep sending incessant checks for updates

• Offer to cover tasks without making a big show of it

• Remember that working might be helping them cope– don’t insist that they must take time off

• Follow their lead on discussing the situation

• Make it clear that cameras off is perfectly fine

• Respect their choice to either work or step back

There's no playbook for handling Slack notifications alongside evacuation alerts. No manual for balancing professional responsibilities with personal crisis. But maybe that's the point. Maybe it's about finding stability wherever we can – even if that stability comes from your ordinary, everyday job.

Because right now, you're not just working remotely – you're working through a crisis. And whatever helps you stay grounded, whether it's taking time off or logging on, whether it's keeping your camera on or off, whether it's sharing everything or nothing at all – that's exactly what you should be doing.

Sometimes stability comes from surprising places. Sometimes it comes from your calendar notifications. Sometimes it comes from knowing you can step away when you need to.

And as we face the reality of climate change, these scenarios aren't just one-off events anymore. Natural disasters - from fires to floods, from hurricanes to heat waves - are becoming our new normal. The intersection of crisis and work life isn't just an occasional challenge, it's an increasingly regular part of our professional landscape.

This means we need workplace cultures that understand that sometimes, your world might literally be on fire.  And that recognize that as these events become more frequent, we need sustainable ways to balance crisis and career.

Because while we can't control when the next natural disaster will strike, we can control how we support each other through it. Whatever you're facing, however you're handling it - we're all learning to navigate this new normal together.