The fire of vision that was kindled in me at a young age has mostly served me well. Even when I lost sight of it, it seems not to have abandoned me. Rather, it waited patiently for my attention and devotion to return, for me to take up the tasks it required for its fulfillment. Though it has often found me lacking, it has never totally given up on me. I am both its victim and its tool.
The fire of the heart has its own knowing and chooses its own objects of affection whether they be people, clothing, furniture, cars, gadgets, whatever. This fire is prone to burnout and changing its mind, never a problem with things for which were a passing fancy, but sometimes a cause of heartache in relationships. Not always discerning, the fire of the heart sometimes confused love and lust, sometimes sought the wrong kind of fuels to keep itself going. It particularly likes bonfires and can grow impatient at the slow, careful feeding the home hearth requires. The fire of the heart is in love with love.
The creative fire seems to have peculiar characteristics. It seeks out and engulfs extremely odd and inchoate things in its expression. Or it finds something, tucks it away in the recesses of memory, and brings it up at odd times for its own purpose. It insists on an image, a book, a song, an article, an experience and sets aside some tidbit to be incorporated into a future work. Over my life, the creative fire has built its own artist's studio of fuels. It has often made garish pieces which it later tore up, but it never throws away anything. The creative fire consumes but does not destroy that which fuels it. Of the four, the creative fire seems the most patient, waiting sometimes decades for its fulfillment.
The soul's fire has always given me the most trouble. Often its agenda and my own were vastly different, and so we suffered through decades of conflict. Only in the last fifteen or so years have I come to recognize, ever so reluctantly, that our agendas are more alike than different. My soul's fire seems to need conflict as a way of clarifying what it truly wants. And I need the conflict with my soul in order to understand and know myself and my soul. In this troubled journey, my soul and I have come to discover that we are one.
In tending to myself, to my relationships, to my daily wants and needs, to the creature comforts my body demands, to the small tasks that living and working with others require, I am able to rejuvenate myself and tend to the keeping of these four fires. Long walks, engrossing conversations, rewarding work, taking up of responsibility for the things life places squarely in my path, some willingness to risk, adequate rest, good nutrition--these are the ways of renewal for me.
If I could condense all this to a simple message, it is this: I have learned to say "yes" to loving this one, fleeting, precious fiery life.
