There are those moments in life that merit a little self destruction. Or so I told myself, as my hand snapped back quickly, and the smell of burned hair ascended into my nose. The fire was angry. So was I. Sunday evening. It was been a good day after a great weekend, but it had been a long weekend and I hadn't gotten anywhere with the paperwork needing to be filed against Lily's mom, nor was I able to do any tracking or contacts or anything.
And despite a great day in the Intag with Ellie, a beautiful Saturday and a productive Sunday, I was frustrated. And I had a lot of old cardboard boxes. And a lot of old and half rotten wood that needed to be taken care of. And so many thoughts that needed attending to. And I still hadn't done my 10k steps. Solution for all of it? Fire.
So there I am. Playing with fire. It's growing and growing, and I can't help but keep feeding it. I walk back to the pile of cardboard in the hallway, grab another, automatically. Open it, put it into the flames like a chimney.
With each one I burn a thought. Just like I sent my hopes and wishes with the water while sitting under the ice cold waterfall in Intag, I now attach all the bad and ask the fire to cleanse it.
The fire lashes out again, the heat penetrates my skin and lights up my nerves. I smile and remember the many times I got too cocky with fire, the burns in the kitchen, or in the bakery. It's a pain one can get used to. Pain creates resilience. That's what I tell myself.
I turn the music a little louder, songs from the old days, my old days, Linkin Park and such. Songs that capture frustration well. I go back into the kitchen, open another beer, leaving ash stains behind. Someone will clean that up.
By the time the alcohol has some effect the fire stopped roaring, and so did I. I already feel better. The cardboard is almost empty, so I go up on the roof to get the old wood. It's a campfire now, not a raging hell of apocalypse.
A friend comes by with more beer, and I know that this is one of those evenings where I will not restrain myself. We talk about everything but Lily, and I'm grateful for that.
I sleep like a baby that night. I cleaned up. The waterfall on Friday, the fire on Sunday. Nature has its ways to help.
Thank you for reading!
