Wednesday, July 22, 2009: My curiosity over the letter’s origin turns to obsession. Who could have written such a letter and under what circumstances? The question rests on my pillow, and the letter under it, as I drift off to sleep that night.
Life by Drowning
Like light, creativity, and communication, fire is a contagious energy that ignites collective values and embodies abundance by expanding through sharing. Fire gathers us to warmth and companionship. It soothes and mesmerizes us, in dancing flourishes of flame and swirling smoke.
To our ancestors, at the centre of every camp and village, fire gave warmth in the coldness, light in the darkness, and nourishing sustenance daily. Most importantly, fire invoked the great, intangible lesson that sharing it by extending it to others, rather than diminishing the quantity or quality of the fire, actually created more and ensured that the vital resource would not be extinguished.
Reflections on IGNITING CREATIVITY
Monday, July 20, 2009: In the days that follow, I carry the mysterious letter with me everywhere, pausing often to re-read it and re-examine the envelope.
Thursday, July 16, 2009: The year transpires much the same, one distraction to the next. By day, I split myself in two—half domesticated mom, half professional businesswoman—accomplishing neither whole-heartedly. Perpetually fatigued and scattered.
Tuesday, February 13, 2007: I awaken to the offensively chipper chatter of morning show hosts from the clock radio at my husband’s bedside. Pulling up my knees, I withdraw deeper into the dark, warm covers and lift them over the back of my head, relieved when he hits “snooze” and heads to the bathroom. A ten-minute reprieve.
Monday, February 12, 2007: Death by fire. I dream of dying in a burst of flames. Searing heat traveling from my feet, up my legs, swirling around me. Hot, dry, release. My soul purified by fire—a quick, dramatic death, nothing left but ash. The antithesis of my life.