Photo by Steve Baer | FireDog Photos

‘When we’ve got a little breathing room, we have a responsibility to look around. If you’re not drowning, throw a damn rope’

Guess what I’m doing this weekend? Reporting for duty. A 24-hour shift.

And here I am – on a quiet day – already rehearsing it in my head. Not just the logistics, but the mental load. The weight of the unknowns. I’m preloading. We all do it – mapping out the shift before it happens. Running imaginary calls. Thinking through who might be on the crew, what station I’ll land at, what kind of energy the day will hold. It’s like mental time travel.

But here’s where it gets real: today, I feel good. Clear-headed. No fires to put out at home. No personal chaos clouding my judgment. I’ve got a little bit of margin – some headroom. Enough to maybe zoom out and do the one thing that doesn’t always come naturally in this job: notice someone else.

What if I use that space on Saturday – not to coast, not to check out – but to check in?

Because here’s the truth: when we’ve got a little breathing room, we have a responsibility to look around. If you’re not drowning, throw a damn rope.

We always talk about mental health in extremes – burnout, breakdown, crisis – but what about the in-between days? The quiet stretches where you’re OK, even solid. What if that’s when we have the most power to change the culture?

I’m not saying I’ve got it all figured out. I’ve worked my share of Saturdays to know they don’t always go how you want them to. But if I show up with even an ounce of extra awareness, maybe that becomes the thing that matters most – not how many fires I put out, not how clean the truck bay is, but who I saw. Really saw.

And here’s the kicker: your years of service, your rank, your reputation – they don’t mean shit when it comes to emotional intelligence. Awareness doesn’t ride the seniority list. Anyone can be the one who notices. The one who says, “Hey, dude – what’s up?” and actually waits for the answer.

We talk a lot about being strong. But sometimes strength is just grace under pressure. Gratitude without ego. Showing up without needing to be the center of the shift.

So here’s my challenge – one I’m throwing at myself as much as you: next time you feel good, use that energy like a currency. Spend it on your crew. On the rookie who’s quiet. On the vet who’s been off lately. On the atmosphere you walk into.

Be the person who notices. Not because it’s your role. But because it’s your reach.

Being in this job is a privilege. Being well enough to help someone else through it? That’s a gift.

One of my favorite sayings is, “Once you have it, give it away.”

Kory Pearn is a career firefighter and captain; and the founder, publisher, and editor-in-chief of CRACKYL Magazine.