Tag Archives: fire

Meditations on Fire

Meditations on Fire, January 19, 2012

As I sit once again in front of the wood stove contemplating
the fire, I witness the endless myriad of flames. I experience the many permutations of fire and all of the many words that describe it.  The flames, leaping, dancing, embers glowing, radiating, smoldering.  I see how the fire ignites, how it grows in intensity, how is simmers down.  I ponder the periodic flames that leap out of the end of a log intermittently as if to call my mind back to the object of contemplation.  Back to the breath, which in this case is the fire.
It warms me and I feel myself melting, but not quite enough to drop down into a deeper place of meditation.
But it keeps calling me back.  My 20 minutes are surely up, but still I sit, still I contemplate, still I sip my chai.  Feeling all my senses – sight, viewing the flames – sound, hearing the click click click of the fan atop the stove that tells me by its rapidity how hot the stove is – touch, my mug in my hand and the heat upon my face – taste is of chai.  My senses are awakened. And my body, as I visualize divine light coursing down my spinal column, ensuring that my body
is connected from the volcanic fire of the center of Gaia’s core to the light of the universe.  Oh my.  How my body craves this stillness, this
calm, a more awakened state.

And as I leave my meditation, I wonder as always, can I
bring this lovely state into my day?

I asked my meditation instructor what was the import of
meditating on fire and she simply said “impermanence”.

November 30, 2012

This fall I have been lighting the fire in the wood stove with old papers that I culled from my filing cabinet.  Each day I grab more papers and I sort them for good one side to reuse in my printer, paper clips or staples to be removed before I crumple the paper and lay it in the stove.  It took me several weeks to realize that I have been reviewing my life of the past 20 years.
Before my eyes and passing through my hands are: mortgages and insurance papers for two homes, designs for xeric gardens and architectural drawings for a renovation,  old pay stubs, checks
and bank statements, odd clippings and medical records, and more.  Cleaning out the files was a process of clearing and cleansing and creating more space.  This has become a process of letting go. Each morning I am burning away attachments to my life, my history and my memories.