Fire. It is embedded deeply in our ancestral memory. To be near fire, and to work with it, is to share an ingrained experience with countless generations of ancestors through time. It’s common to feel something deep and spiritual, something inexplicably real, while spending time with fire. I know I do.
My father recently passed away. He was a single parent. I was an only child. We were indescribably close. It destroyed me.
Fire is a tool of destruction. It is also a tool of creation. The metaphorical significance of fire has always been strong in me. My dad and I heated our house with fire for many years. It created a sense of reverence for the flame. To keep the fire going. If the fire went out in the middle of winter, we would get very cold. It was an emergency.
My inner fire was extinguished when my dad died. A cold hearth. An internal winter of the deepest order with no solace and no sanctuary. I was alone in the cold. At least that’s the way it felt.
Although I had family, friends, and loved ones to console me, I still felt alone. As if in a state of shell shock. Ears ringing. Visions of my dad’s graphic battle with acute liver failure flashing before my eyes in nightmares and in my waking life.
I read books about life after death. Near death experiences. All manner of serious inquiries by scientists and philosophers into the question: “What happens when we die?” The major paradigm shift that occurred for me was simple: I generated the belief that it was possible that his spirit could be somewhere, instead of nowhere. It helped.
I didn’t play music for a few months. When I finally went into my music room, I felt timid. Somewhat afraid. As I began to play, I felt something moving inside me. I felt emotion swelling. I felt a small fire come back to life. It felt bitter sweet. I played for hours and I wept. I sang the lyrics…”For my father.”
I am what’s left of my father. I have a responsibility to use the life that he gave me in meaningful ways. To have experiences worth having. To love well. To live well.
I will keep the fire burning. I will keep breathing.