The Ripple We Didn’t See

I didn’t realize how much the fires, the ICE raids, and the government shutdown had shaped my world or my city, until recently. Not all damage shows up right away. Some of it creeps in quietly, like smoke that lingers long after the flames are gone. It seeps into the economy, into classrooms, into the way people move, or stop moving, through Los Angeles.

Even if you weren’t directly impacted, you probably felt it too. The fires displaced families and small businesses. They changed who filed taxes, who stayed local, who could afford to rebuild. The ICE raids made people disappear from classrooms, from jobs, from registration lists. The government shutdown froze paychecks and delayed projects. And all of it, all at once, created a kind of invisible slow-motion crisis that rippled through the city.

For freelancers, and small business owners, those ripples became real. Work didn’t vanish overnight; it just thinned out. Projects were postponed. Contracts went silent. Payments delayed. You start counting hours and wondering when the flow will come back. You tell yourself you’re fine that you’ve survived slow seasons before but then one day you look around and realize you’ve been surviving for far too long.

That’s when it hit me.

I have been fighting slowness for a while, but I didn’t see how connected I really was or how connected we all are. Los Angeles isn’t just a city; it’s an ecosystem. What happens in one neighborhood shifts something miles away. The fires, the fear, the uncertainty, they didn’t just burn trees or close offices. They changed how people live, spend, trust, and show up.

And me? The only thing I could think to do was to not do nothing.

To keep moving. To keep creating, staying in motion, holding my ground even when I was tired, even when no one was watching. Because movement is its own kind of resistance.

I used to think survival was about independence. But I’m learning it’s really about interdependence how one person’s loss becomes another’s slowdown, how one person’s courage can restart a current. We are all part of that current, this invisible network that holds Los Angeles together when everything else feels uncertain.

We’re all connected. We always were. The world, and this city, just reminded me.

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Coach Vida

Coach Vida is the voice behind FormaFit Active a movement journal rooted in mindful motion, real gear, cultural pride, and showing up without apology.
She believes in slow mornings, walking when it hurts, and building strength that feels like freedom.

Her motto: You don’t have to look like an athlete to move like one.

She writes from Los Angeles, with a speaker clipped on and sunscreen always in the bag. This journal is for anyone reclaiming energy, stretch by stretch.

Coach Vida es la voz detrás de FormaFit Active, un diario de movimiento con raíces en el cuerpo, la cultura y la intención.
Cree en moverse con calma, en estirarse cuando duele, y en la fuerza como libertad.

Su lema: No tienes que parecer atleta para moverte como uno.

Escribe desde Los Ángeles, con su bocina a un lado y bloqueador en la mochila.
Este espacio es para quienes se están reclamando, paso a paso.

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