I walked on fire, but did not get burned. If only all things in life could be so easy. [I can't decide if this journal is depressing or not.]
So, yesterday was the annual fire-walking event that takes place at my summer place of work. Picture a wooded area, and a sudden opening into a grassy field, topped by a sloping hill on one side, and framed by a river on two others. Now picture it pitch-black, but for the tiki torches set in a huge circle, enclosing two burning piles of cedar wood. It always looks so cult-like there, but it's actually a very friendly environment. And by 'friendly' I mean, the hippies...oh, so many hippies...
This year, I brought Chelsea, Matt, and Becca with me. Caitlin and Rachael both wanted to come again, but both had to work. Ah, well.
It was a little different this year, for me. Since it was my second year, I didn't have to stick around for the first part of the 'Face Your Fears' seminar held in the big gazebo. Chelsea and I both joined a smaller group of returnees, and went up to the pavilion so we could 'explore a deeper meaning' of what we were supposed to do that night.
The whole deal with the fire-walk isn't just, "Awesome, we get to walk over fire, great experience!" The whole night is about facing your fears, and digging deep down inside to find out what exactly you need to do to change your life for the better, and how walking over the fire is going to help you reach that goal - it's all symbolism. Easily said, it's not really everyone's "thing," but if you open yourself up to it, and don't approach the concept with negativity, it can be quite rewarding.
H led this group. He's the adult event coordinator of CG, but he's also a psychologist, albeit one that uses ulterior means of working with people. ("Energy transference," I think, is what he calls it.) One of the first things he asked us was, "How did your experience fire-walking last year affect you throughout the year?"
"Well," I said, when my turn had arrived, "I think that it became my point of comparison for everything else that's happened this year. I'm in a really terrifying place in my life - I'm out of my parents' house, working for my living, and if something goes wrong now...it's all on me. But through everything, getting a house with my roommates, starting to become more responsible, I just told myself: 'I've walked on fire.' And it made things seem more attainable to me, when I reminded myself of that."
"However," and this was the part I wasn't sure I was going to admit, "it did have a negative effect as well. I made the fire-walking important. I put it on a pedestal. I made it something to be afraid of. Last year, when I walked over the coals, I burned myself. I remember that pain, so I'm terrified as hell of doing it again. That's why I'm here tonight, so I can walk over the fire again, maybe without getting burned, and show myself it's not as terrifying as I remember. Because if I don't do this tonight, I won't ever do it again, and after that my point of comparison is something I'll continue to be afraid of."
The next question was, "What do you hope to achieve this year?"
I described my fears, the eventual leeway into the true issues I talked about during my term. "They're irrational fears, and I know this. I'm like one of those people you see on Maury, all, 'I'm afraid of pickles,' or 'I'm afraid of chalk,' stupid little things like that. I'm afraid of phones. I'm afraid of fast-food drive-thrus, and turning left through intersections." Then, the biggest issue: "I'm afraid of physical contact of any kind. Not even so much just people anymore, though it's still a small problem for me.
"A hug, a poke, even a slight brush of the arm when we pass - I can't deal with it. My roommates know they have to ask my permission before they can even try to hug me. And I think that...if I can assure myself that having these problems is okay, then, and only then can I start taking steps in an effort to deal with them in a way that can maybe cure me of them. But I'm not okay that I'm afraid, yet, and I need to be. Little steps."
There was far more discussed, but I'd rather leave it out. By the time all was said and done, I realized that this was more of a support group than anything; I was almost crying, and Chelsea, from her own confessions, was shaking. It was strange, though. Everyone there was so depressed as we talked, but when we got up and rejoined the bigger group for the fire-lighting, we were all...happy? Our fears were out there, from the forty-four-year-old man who realized, "I need to grow the f*ck up," to the middle-aged woman who realized, "I haven't found my niche, yet," to the twenty-one-year-old girl that that discovered, "I need to be okay with not being okay."
The slogan of the night was, "Got fears? Face 'em!" as was printed on the event fliers, and everywhere else. We were facing them, and it kind of felt...good?
It was all mind-over-matter, after that. Last year, I broke an arrow by pressing the sharp tip to my throat, the other end against a block of wood, and walking forward until the arrow broke. This year, Chelsea broke a piece of wood with her hand. Matt broke an arrow, like I had. Becca and Chelsea tried to bend a piece of rebar in much the same way you break an arrow, by pressing the (sharpened) tips to the soft parts of their throats, and both walking forward until it would bend. They weren't able to, unfortunately, but it wasn't for a great lack of trying, and they had the support of everyone there to make them feel better about it afterward.
When it came time to fire-walk, there was nothing else to do but...just do it. It was freezing cold outside, and my feet already hurt because the grass was so cold and damp - hell, I was almost looking forward to stepping on the coals, because it'd be warm. I took a deep breath, and followed Matt over the flames.
This year, I didn't get burned.
In fact, it felt wonderful. It hurt, but my feet were perfectly fine afterward. I felt so f*cking good about it...I got back in line, and went over the flames a second time. Again, I didn't get burned.
Mind-over-matter. To an extent.
I don't know what this is going to do for me, in the future. But at least I'm not afraid of my point of comparison anymore.
This year, I brought Chelsea, Matt, and Becca with me. Caitlin and Rachael both wanted to come again, but both had to work. Ah, well.
It was a little different this year, for me. Since it was my second year, I didn't have to stick around for the first part of the 'Face Your Fears' seminar held in the big gazebo. Chelsea and I both joined a smaller group of returnees, and went up to the pavilion so we could 'explore a deeper meaning' of what we were supposed to do that night.
The whole deal with the fire-walk isn't just, "Awesome, we get to walk over fire, great experience!" The whole night is about facing your fears, and digging deep down inside to find out what exactly you need to do to change your life for the better, and how walking over the fire is going to help you reach that goal - it's all symbolism. Easily said, it's not really everyone's "thing," but if you open yourself up to it, and don't approach the concept with negativity, it can be quite rewarding.
H led this group. He's the adult event coordinator of CG, but he's also a psychologist, albeit one that uses ulterior means of working with people. ("Energy transference," I think, is what he calls it.) One of the first things he asked us was, "How did your experience fire-walking last year affect you throughout the year?"
"Well," I said, when my turn had arrived, "I think that it became my point of comparison for everything else that's happened this year. I'm in a really terrifying place in my life - I'm out of my parents' house, working for my living, and if something goes wrong now...it's all on me. But through everything, getting a house with my roommates, starting to become more responsible, I just told myself: 'I've walked on fire.' And it made things seem more attainable to me, when I reminded myself of that."
"However," and this was the part I wasn't sure I was going to admit, "it did have a negative effect as well. I made the fire-walking important. I put it on a pedestal. I made it something to be afraid of. Last year, when I walked over the coals, I burned myself. I remember that pain, so I'm terrified as hell of doing it again. That's why I'm here tonight, so I can walk over the fire again, maybe without getting burned, and show myself it's not as terrifying as I remember. Because if I don't do this tonight, I won't ever do it again, and after that my point of comparison is something I'll continue to be afraid of."
The next question was, "What do you hope to achieve this year?"
I described my fears, the eventual leeway into the true issues I talked about during my term. "They're irrational fears, and I know this. I'm like one of those people you see on Maury, all, 'I'm afraid of pickles,' or 'I'm afraid of chalk,' stupid little things like that. I'm afraid of phones. I'm afraid of fast-food drive-thrus, and turning left through intersections." Then, the biggest issue: "I'm afraid of physical contact of any kind. Not even so much just people anymore, though it's still a small problem for me.
"A hug, a poke, even a slight brush of the arm when we pass - I can't deal with it. My roommates know they have to ask my permission before they can even try to hug me. And I think that...if I can assure myself that having these problems is okay, then, and only then can I start taking steps in an effort to deal with them in a way that can maybe cure me of them. But I'm not okay that I'm afraid, yet, and I need to be. Little steps."
There was far more discussed, but I'd rather leave it out. By the time all was said and done, I realized that this was more of a support group than anything; I was almost crying, and Chelsea, from her own confessions, was shaking. It was strange, though. Everyone there was so depressed as we talked, but when we got up and rejoined the bigger group for the fire-lighting, we were all...happy? Our fears were out there, from the forty-four-year-old man who realized, "I need to grow the f*ck up," to the middle-aged woman who realized, "I haven't found my niche, yet," to the twenty-one-year-old girl that that discovered, "I need to be okay with not being okay."
The slogan of the night was, "Got fears? Face 'em!" as was printed on the event fliers, and everywhere else. We were facing them, and it kind of felt...good?
It was all mind-over-matter, after that. Last year, I broke an arrow by pressing the sharp tip to my throat, the other end against a block of wood, and walking forward until the arrow broke. This year, Chelsea broke a piece of wood with her hand. Matt broke an arrow, like I had. Becca and Chelsea tried to bend a piece of rebar in much the same way you break an arrow, by pressing the (sharpened) tips to the soft parts of their throats, and both walking forward until it would bend. They weren't able to, unfortunately, but it wasn't for a great lack of trying, and they had the support of everyone there to make them feel better about it afterward.
When it came time to fire-walk, there was nothing else to do but...just do it. It was freezing cold outside, and my feet already hurt because the grass was so cold and damp - hell, I was almost looking forward to stepping on the coals, because it'd be warm. I took a deep breath, and followed Matt over the flames.
This year, I didn't get burned.
In fact, it felt wonderful. It hurt, but my feet were perfectly fine afterward. I felt so f*cking good about it...I got back in line, and went over the flames a second time. Again, I didn't get burned.
Mind-over-matter. To an extent.
I don't know what this is going to do for me, in the future. But at least I'm not afraid of my point of comparison anymore.
Posted on September 21st, 2009 at 12:49am
I wouldn't call this a depressing journal actually, reading it was intriguing because you were prepared to explain your fears and thoughts to a group of people during the evening and then post it on the internet. I've tried to discuss more personal things like that in an anxiety group about a year ago and t just...didn't work. I was terrified, but I couldn't conquer my fear. So I admire you for being doing that.
Actually, the whole experience sounds like something I would be interested to try if it was a bit...closer to home. I'm not into spiritual stuff, but the simple "mind over matter" idea is so very true. Something like that might encourage me in that respect.
TheFountainhead, September 21st, 2009 at 08:49:15am
I don't think I could make myself walk over fire, to be honest.
So you're very brave. The whole event sounds pretty amazing though.
vince noir., September 21st, 2009 at 05:04:32am
That's awesome, I'd love to try that one day. Very cool, I must say.
MaryJulianna, September 21st, 2009 at 04:07:24am
Owch? Well done, but I really don't understand how you don't get burnt..
thirty whacks;, September 21st, 2009 at 03:02:42am
That's really cool. I'd like to do something like that, I just don't know how well I'd be off once I was actually in front of the coals.
Beatrix Kiddo., September 21st, 2009 at 01:41:01am
Morphaic Ditto. I would be terrified to have an arrow anywhere near me- mostly 'cause I'm prone to hurting myself.
Juliet., September 21st, 2009 at 01:01:12am
That honestly sounds like an amazing event. I know I have some fears I will have to face sooner or later and this sounds like it would be a very good way to address them.
Matthew Leone., September 21st, 2009 at 01:00:34am
I seriously don't think I could ever do that. Any of it. The whole experience [talking to people, breaking arrows, and the actual walking on fire] sounds like it would terrify me. :P
So kudos to you.
eulogy, September 21st, 2009 at 12:57:57am