For a change of pace, I met a small group of people at a park in Georgetown for “camping.” Granted, we were at a campsite and even had a beautiful view of the lake, but none of us had brought tents, much less sleeping bags. We had food to share, plenty of drinks and a surprising amount of chopped wood for the campfire.
I had originally planned to leave at dusk so I could take advantage of the fleeting sunlight to help guide me out of the park, but I was enticed by the beauty and warmth of the fire. As conversation swirled around me amongst my companions, I stared at the lively flames and mediated.
At one point, an unbelievably huge tree stump was ungracefully plopped into the fire and I witnessed the bark burn away followed by steam, unlike the smoke of burning wood, the steam arose from the wetness of a light drizzle earlier that day. From my perspective, the stump appeared to be smoldering from within.
Just the night before, I’d been seized by a poetry attack and had written a series of haikus; so I was not surprised to find myself in a philosophical state. I related the burning of the bark to the shedding of outer appearances and the smoldering as the passion from within rising to the surface. Again, as I’ve asked myself many times in the past couple of years, “What can I do differently to be fulfilled?”
I’ve been short-changing myself for a while and like the lively flames, I’ve been in motion the whole time. My energy consumed, my ashes environmentally disposed of, but like all machines, not all of my energy has been used for productive work. Some has been lost into the atmosphere. Some has been inefficiently used for dead-end pursuits. Some has been drained in order to satisfy others. When I reflect on the amount of my potential energy that has been used for pursuing my own happiness, I’m still optimistic that I’ve at least attempted to do my heart’s desire–all with varying degrees of success.
What remains, what the fire reminded me of, was a lesson that I’ve been aware of, but not completely learned. My fire, which fuels my passion, needs to burn away the illusions. I’m still trapped by the illusion of not being free. Everyone has limitations, which are human attributes. Yet, I’ve become too caught up in the daily grind of work and my busybody social life to mediate on what are my actual limitations and what are the limits other people have put upon me. I have allowed some people to toss me into their own fire pit because they are well aware of how much energy I have to offer.
Yet, lively fires such as mine have sparks that can burn as much as the flame itself. The greatest fires consume a lot of oxygen and leave the room breathless. Fires cleanse, leaving an area fertile for the germination of the next fruits. Fires can warm you, burn you, cook your food or destroy it. Fires command respect.
I’m thankful for that campfire for reminding me of the power I have to transform my situation.