What becomes of a Firewalker one week later? Yes, you heard me right, “I have walked on fire.” It was a New Years Day thing to do. It was a lovely drive in the mountains and an exciting adventure to have with my sister. It was cold and convival and strange and OK. But what does one do with the fact that they have walked on a bed of hot coals?
I am still processing this.
The moment “the moment” arrived I was not in it. I claimed no knowledge of what was before me. I recall being drawn across six feet of brightly burning orange embers by the amazingly supportive energy of the folks encircling me and the active loving energy of my sister in front of me. But I was no where to be found. How about that? No fear. No joy. No nothing. An action without a reaction.
There was a gathering afterward and I recall feeling pumped with adrenaline that night and a bit uneasy, but I fell asleep finally by giving myself a soothing mantra to say. The next day was fine, my feet were fine and I enjoyed sharing this accomplishment with my beloved sibling.
This seems to be a succinct encapsulated expereince not one that goes on and on. Ya – I did it. No – I do not need to do it again. Now I just want to move on. And that is what I see as the gift of this expereince. Moving on.