Fire Pit Therapy

There is something very special in a good fire. There is something magical, and maybe even mysterious in the flames of blue and orange and red and yellow. The way a flame is kissed by a breeze so it curls around a log in a beautifully elegant way, and then disappears is the very reason I will sit by a fire and stare into its soul for hours upon hours. There's always something in the heart of a good fire that I'm looking for, something way down deep within the flames and embers and logs, something hiding in there just out of view. I never quite know what is that I'm seeking though, until I find it.

So why is a well-made fire so fascinating to me? Through the centuries there has been an intimate connection of fire with the cultural growth of humanity. We may assume there was once a time when man had no fire, but very early he must have become acquainted with fire derived from natural sources, and made use of it; for no remains of man's art show him without fire as his companion.

Fire has many uses in everyday life. We can heat our homes with fire. We can cook our meals with fire. We can mold steel to build and create. Fire can also destroy if left alone. Huge forests of thousands of acres can disappear because of fire. Fire can be made with many items invented for that very purpose. I have even walked barefoot across hot coals taken only moments before from a huge fire. Yes… fire has many uses.

I obtain energy from a fire... mental, physical, spiritual, and emotional energy. I feel rejuvenated and invigorated after a good fire session. There's a magical, but very real, quality in the heat and the light from a good fire. In this case, bigger is not always better, but I do like a rather large fire... just hot enough that you can only stand close enough to make needed adjustments without singeing your eyebrows. My own personal philosophy is if I don't leave the fire with burned hair on my arms, then I could have done better, so my fires are usually bigger than someone else's might be.

Maybe my own fondness for the art of storytelling has something to do with my love for fire. There's a connection to our past in sitting around a fire and holding conversations that could consist of stories or lessons or even just "Tell me about your day, Dear." I would think that our early ancestors sat around open fires and had these same conversations. If so, then it stands to reason that the fires that I enjoy so much today come from deep rooted traditions that form a link to our own history with humanity.

A good fire, especially one at night when darkness surrounds the globe of warmth and orange light that only a fire can create, has a hypnotizing effect on me. When I'm outside that ring, I want in... and once I'm in, I don't want to leave. There's something in the fire that I want. The answer to many of life's quandaries are in there. I think a good fire for me is like writing for this blog. I will sit and stare at a good fire and let my mind wander the same way I do when I'm writing something for this blog (and a few things that I dare not actually post), giving my thoughts free reign to go where they will.

Some of the places that I find myself are fun and pleasant, some are sad, some funny, some scary, some are serious, and some places are down right dark... not evil, but places where even angels fear to tread. It's always a bit risky to ask me what I'm thinking about when I'm lost in a fire... I might tell you without censoring myself first.

I like a tall fire... my father likes a flat fire. There will always be a battle of wills for control of the fire stick used to poke and prod the fire. Since I'm younger and more mobile than Dad, I usually win this epic struggle for power. I like to have some of the logs upright, not quite standing on end, but leaning so as to create a fire that is mighty and will swirl up and around and through the wood in a mesmerizing fashion.

And I am never satisfied with the fire as it is either. I always have to be messing with it. I will move logs around and shift the fire this way or that until I get it the way I want it, then I'll sit back and enjoy my efforts for a minute or so until I see another possibility. Then I'm back up moving things around again... and so it goes, for hours on end sometimes. And this becomes therapy for me.

Fire Pit Therapy.

I had a fire going in my back yard in Richmond a few years ago... nothing major, just some sticks I had gathered from cleaning up the yard after some heavy winds. The fire was in an old BBQ grill that I didn't use anymore, and I was raking some leaves and not really paying much attention to the fire. It wasn't that kind of fire anyway... I was just burning some sticks to get rid of them.

My good friend Paul stopped by for a short visit, and as I was finished with my yard work, we stood by the fire and chatted for a while. I had some chairs close by and invited my friend to "sit a spell", but he was content to find a stick and poke around in the fire a bit. This is one of the very few times I have voluntarily relinquished control of the fire stick.

I don't remember how the subject came up, but Paul began talking about his youth and his basketball playing days. I asked him several times if he would like to sit down or have something to drink... but his answer every time was "No, I'd better be getting home soon."

But he didn't go home. He stayed and talked and pretty soon it became apparent to me that he just needed to talk this on this evening. I found a comfortable position in my chair and let him talk in great detail about people he grew up with, the teams he was on, the games he played, his coaches, his team mates, his parents... his youth. The whole time he talked, he stared into the fire as if all of those memories were right there, in the flames. I stopped speaking after a while, not because I wasn't interested... but because there was nothing that I could say that would add to this particular conversation. This one was a tête-à-tête between Paul and the fire.

He added wood when it needed wood... he stirred things around when they needed stirring... he left it alone when it was good enough for the time being to leave alone... and he talked. I knew exactly what this was for him... I've felt it myself and I've been there.

Fire Pit Therapy.

There's nothing like it. No therapist. No Psychologist. No self appointed self-help guru. No one telling you what you should be feeling, or thinking, or doing... just you and the fire, mano a mano. I have worked out many things in my life by staring into a good fire. It's not an easy thing to get out of your mind's way and let it do what it does best. We tend to want to control our thoughts, and for the most part, we should. Sometimes though, we should just step aside and let that part of our thinkbox that we so rarely get to see, take us to places where we don't even know we want to go.... or should go whether we want to or not.

We all have those places. The places where we don't let others into. The places where we can go and be totally alone in a crowded room. The places where our own insecurities wait and feed and get stronger and stronger until we go there to confront them. The places where we can relive our childhood, like my friend Paul did. Those places where we plan and design our lives and see the results of such planning before we take even the first physical step to implement that plan. These are not necessarily bad places to go. They can be, if we're not careful, but with a little nudge in the right direction, and close monitoring, we can put our thoughts in the driver's seat, take a firm grasp on the wheel, and we're just along for the ride.

We can do this anywhere too. In your car (you still have to watch the road and obey traffic rules), in bed at night, in front of the television, even while writing a blog... for me the best place is in front of a good fire.

I have been so lost in a good fire that I didn't notice the other people around getting up one by one and retiring for the night. My entire being was inside those flames, sorting out my life, making plans for the future, remembering the past... and always ready to stand back up and move a log or two when I saw the possibility for improvement, always a possibility for improvement.

Fire Pit Therapy.

It's been a while since I have given myself the gift of a good fire session, and I'm feeling it. I'm overdue. I will have one very soon, and probably post the results here... no promises though. Anyone who would like to join is invited... we might have hot dogs and marshmallows or even make s'mores. There might be some music, there might not be. I hope my friend Paul will be there.

At some point though, I will hand the wheel off to the uncensored psyche, and let myself be taken to the unknown (or at least, the not recently visited) places of wonder and awe. And I'll be staring into the fire and making adjustments as needed. The light from this fire will help me find my way along the path, and keep me focused on what's important in life.

Without it, I'd probably be a mess.

Until next time...