Native American spirituality, as well as many religious and spiritual traditions of the world, honor fire and the role of the fire tender or fire keeper. This is my own fireplace tonight as I sat before it to write with Michael Hoppe's "The Yearning" playing in the background. All my life I've been fascinated by fireplaces and grew up in houses where the fireplace played a key role--mostly for practical reasons. It kept the house heated.
For me, sitting before a fire today helps me to focus and go deeper within more quickly than any other ritual or symbol does. It's a symbol of warmth and well-being. Our first house my ex-husband and I bought did not have a fireplace and I longed for one. When we moved four years later, we had a magnificent fireplace of Palos Verdes stone with a slate hearth. It was the primary gathering place for major family events--and when times grew hard, I lit a fire and laid before it to process whatever was going on. I slept on the couch before the fire from Dec. 14-17, 1967 after my mom had unexpectedly passed away. It felt like she was there with me somehow as the fireplace had meant so much to her and my dad, too.
Bonfires were part of the ritual of college homecomings, I remember--and campfires in our years of raising kids were where the community gathered to tell stories, sing and who will ever forget the Ranger talks in the national parks, always around the bonfire? Romance, at least in my mind, is always equated with fireplaces--a couple sitting snuggled before the fire--and when appropriate, making love in front of it. I've always thought it would be an incredible luxury and gift to have a bedroom fireplace. I have stayed in motels where the fire played a key role.
My current townhouse has a simple wood-burning fireplace surrounded by white tile on the walls and on the hearth. One time I had to call the fire department when the smoke alarm went off and I had a journal group in my home at the time. My ongoing journal groups love to write with the fireplace burning. Thank God the fire department came, as while they were there, they did a chimney inspection and my metal firebox (flu) had holes burned through. I could have easily burned our whole complex down. I had the fireplace rebuilt and though it requires more safety precautions, I do burn wood. I love the smell and crackle of it. As I shuffle through memories, some of the most memorable included fireplaces, fire for purification and healing, and I suppose someday I'll have the ultimate purification by fire: cremation.
Fire is sacred, but fire out of hand, as we all know, can be a fearsome and destructive thing. I guess I try to put that kind of fire out of my mind. Rather, I think of the Burning Bowl ritual my journal groups do at the New Year. We write at least one negative thing we want to let go of--and each of us goes to the fireplace to burn it. Then, in our journals, we write something positive we want to bring into our lives. Unity Churchs who do this ritual actually have you fill out an envelope and mid-year they mail you your affirmation so you can see if it has manifested yet.
Wherever you are, whatever you are doing, I'd like to send you a Virtual Fire if you don't have one. And I'd love to hear your own stories about fires.
