so much of life is flammable

Weeks prior to my 29th birthday, I learned that the number 29 has symbolic meaning: departure.

I also follow the moon cycle closely, (a simple grounding practice, and the moon is quite lovely, isn’t she?) and discovered that the full moon would shine big and bright on this particular day. My 29th birthday also happened to fall on Friday the 13th. So my whimsical and slightly spooky little heart decided that we would celebrate and commemorate my 29th with none other than a burn party.

I encouraged my pals to write down anything they felt prompted to and toss it in the fire. Griefs, betrayals, moments of discouragement, failures, shame - whatever, write it down and let’s take a moment to burn shit.

Orange and red swirled toward the sky,

embers glowed and crackled as they made their way north toward the full moon,

crumpled up notebook papers sizzled like silk

quickly disintegrating to dust

and just like that,

We let our shit go.

So much of life is flammable.

Whether it be precious, disposable,

flickering or sweet,

it comes

and it goes.

In some cases, this is discouraging.

Like the pitter patter of my heart when we he asked me out for the first time.

Or the never-ending passport stamps as I hopped on planes, trains and automobiles to travel the world and live out a dream come true.

Or the smile across my face when he waltzed through the park with me, both of us full of giddy laughter and losing our breath from so much to say.

Or the simultaneous uneasy and eager feeling in my gut when I packed up all my belongings into my sedan and drove cross country to start a new life from scratch.

In other cases, this is quite a relief.

Like the despondence I felt in my heart after returning to my 4 year sacred office space after several months away due to a global pandemic, only to pack up my things and say goodbye to a special place full of special people. The end of an era.

Or the betrayal I felt when she said “I need to be honest with you and myself, I do have feelings for the guy you like. As much as I hate to admit that.”

Or when I realized I was not only cut from being maid of honor, but no longer invited to the wedding of a best friend because they decided personal preferences are just too great a barrier.

Or when I heard the words “you need to come home, he’s been hurt” only to be grieving the death of a friend 24 hours later.

There are some moments I want to seal tight in a package, mummify and preserve for a lifetime.

And then there are others I want to toss into an engulfing pit of flames, never to return to my overwhelmed mind and grieving heart again.

The irony of it all, is I have to try really hard and muster up all my memory making abilities to remember the good moments.

And the heartbreaking moments? Well, those seem to etch their way through my brain pathways all the way to the core of my soul. It often seems like they’re stuck there like a scar.

Where there is something

And then there suddenly isn’t

This is just the way of life.

Which makes choices all the more meaningful, doesn’t it?

I grew up learning about “God’s will” in the evangelical realm. This ominous, overwhelming, black and white, well-defined, yet completely impossible equation to be calculated out of logic.

Spoiler alert, because God is not a God of logic, inherently ;)

Well, anyway. This ominous evangelical trick nearly stopped me in my tracks of choice. If my human heart couldn’t be trusted, and God was not going point “right” or “left” with every fork in the road on every which pathway, then I found myself stuck.

But if much of life is flammable,

If moments come and go ever so quickly,

both the good and the hard,

and if God is not a God of mere logic

but also of spirit and metaphor and adventure and grace and creativity and kindness and…

Then the way these moments present themselves on the game board of life, no pun intended,

it’s not for nothing.

It’s not a trick.

At the ripe age of 32 I know my body well enough when she tells me she’s in the right place at the right time. And I know my Maker well enough that He just might use my mind, body & spirit to steer me in the right direction.

I don’t have to worry about the betrayals and griefs and letdowns that life may throw at me.

They’re flammable.

And I can dance little lighter,

Sing a little louder,

Take a stroll a little slower,

Paint a little more

I can make the choice to say yes to those many lifetimes that just might come and go.

Because when I take the risk and make the choice to fight for the things that light me up,

I become the engulfing flame, instead.

And I light up the darkness all around me.

Take care and talk soon,

L