I can’t be the only one who reads headlines and winches my shoulders — almost the entire extent of my current emergency preparedness for natural disasters.

Grateful that the headlines happen elsewhere, I try, in order to procrastinate even more, to ignore the little voice that says, “It could happen here.” (Hint: It – whatever it is – could happen anywhere… and does.)

Even living on Vashon, along the 700-mile fault line known as the Cascadia Subduction Zone apparently hasn’t scared me straight. Or having watched 200-year-old trees blow by horizontally during the 1993 Inaugural Day storm. Neither did the hair-raising groans of a hospital building’s beams during the 2001 Nisqually 6.8-magnitude earthquake – where my newborn lay in the neonatal intensive care unit – over which a thin crack appeared in the ceiling.

Mighty is the god of Denial.

English comedian Stewart Lee, on stage, referring to a childhood diary from 1978, remembers a very cold December that year, “Back when we used to have weather — rather than just nothing — punctuated by catastrophes.” He says.

I do have functioning smoke alarms, but I got them more out of fear that if I didn’t, a firefighter would scratch her head, puzzled as to why I hadn’t bothered to install a simple, life-saving measure.

Years ago, when my son was little, I had an emergency preparedness plan. I plunked down mini go-bags in separate locations with things that would help him, and his caregivers, should something stand between his father, me, and him. Like, say, a non-functioning ferry dock.

Perfectionism thwarts my thinking when it comes to emergency preparedness. I feel overwhelmed by the scale of what needs doing. The requirements seem so numerous that I want to go to bed and pull my electric blanket over my head (which will only work with power).

So, I’ve started preparing again, little by little, because something is better than nothing.

Do I have water and a headlamp? Where are they? Does my go-bag have wheels so that I don’t have to schlep it more than necessary? (Yes.) Shoes — sure I have shoes … but will I have time to rummage for them when I need them immediately? And what goes best with panic?

It seems to me emergency preparedness looks like playing a musical instrument, requiring practice over regular intervals to plunk out a serviceable tune. What do I have? Where is it? Can I still eat it?

I read that one of the most common injuries after a major event involves people cutting their feet on broken glass when springing out of bed (and in my mind, in the dead of night). Shredded feet you say – say what now? No. Thank. You.

To get a jump on 2024 New Year resolutions, I’ve enrolled in Vashon’s Community Emergency Response Team (CERT) training for household safety and emergency preparedness (Part I).

I’ve also registered for Parts 2 and 3 – additional training that will help me integrate my efforts with the Vashon CERT team and the other island organizations that contribute to disaster response on Vashon.

I hesitated to enroll in Parts 2 and 3 because of the distance between me and my comfort zone. I do not see myself as leader material – I mean sure, I can lead through Bakery Nouveau … this way to the éclairs!

But when it comes to emergencies, I wait for instructions. Surely someone smarter than me out there knows what to do.

Leaning towards passivity, however, doesn’t mean I can’t stretch. I can function as part of a team.

And I can learn, if not to be a tactical genius, then at least, to make informed decisions — rather than flap my arms and run around in tight circles screaming, What are we going to do?!

According to Jan Milligan, Manager of Vashon CERT, Vashon currently has 70 trained volunteers who support disaster response. She says ideally the island needs about 300 more.

“We know that residents will come out of the woodwork after a disaster with offers of help and zucchini bread, but some pre-training is key to volunteers being safe and effective,” said Milligan.

Untrained volunteers can cause problems in times of catastrophe, unwittingly putting themselves in harm’s way – compounding dangerous situations, and adding stress to already-taxed resources.

And Milligan says participants don’t need to be endurance gurus to participate.

Helping with a disaster response includes many jobs, such as damage assessment/reporting, communications, errands, first aid, equipment set up, light rescue, and strolling neighborhoods and parks in search of missing people.

I believe I can plan all I want, and that plenty is out of my control anyway. But if I have a margin, I want to be able to use it.

Selfishly, I don’t want my nails to be the only thing to chew on should the going get really rough.

Registering for all three parts of the training has provided incentive. It also offers structure, so I won’t have to make up things in my head (where a not-always helpful imagination lives) – and I’ll figure things out in good company.

I’ll strengthen my defensive position and gain a sense that I aimed to be part of the solution.

For more information about CERT and 2024 training registration visit CERT@VashonBePrepared.org.

Marie Koltchak lives and writes on Vashon Island. Her recent forays to Granny’s Attic have yielded two cold-weather hats — one for each go-bag (one in the car and one next to the bed, along with the sturdy shoes she had the good sense to hang onto, even though they’re past their prime).