Tending the Sacred Fire

Do you remember... Your first encounter with fire?

How did you respond to its essence?

What is your relationship to Grandfather fire?

Where does this fire live within you today?

What if this was the last fire you would ever meet?

What if you had to tend to it, keep it glowing...

to feed you

warm you

keep you company

provide you with light to see

keep you safe from predators lurking in the night

burn away what no longer served the path ahead?

My first memory of fire was with a firefly. Growing up in Kentucky, the humid summer nights would bring a brilliance of sounds and sights for a wild little girl to watch in wonder. Standing on the steps of the wide front porch by the wooden rocking chairs, I looked out into the dark to see the fireflies glowing butts turn on and off. It was fun to watch them disappear and guess where they would pop back up again, like a trail of glowing beads to light the way to a secret path. Since their name was firefly I thought if I caught them they would burn my hands, but my dad grabbed one out of the night sky and passed it to me quick that I had no time to think about it burning me. I still flinched, yet soon realized I was fine. In fact, I was holding fire, I thought!

This passing of the fire from my father, I imagine, has been a way of passing along knowledge from parent to child for generations. While some might say I was only given a little bug, for me, it was magical powers being passed directly to my hands.

To hold fire is an art. A spiritual practice. A way of life. A sacred relationship.

To hold fire and tend to its needs is a direct connection to the divine and our ancestors.

We carry it in our cells, our blood, our bones.

We feed the fire of our bellies, our hearts, our minds and our creativity.

We are passed this fire through the breath of life when we are born.

We are meant to tend to these inner fires through our will.

Holding the fire within ourselves is to keep our will alive.

If we do not tend to the fire of our belly, we starve.

If we do not tend to the fire of our heart, we are overtaken with emotion.

If we do not tend to the fire of our creativity, we become stuck stagnant and depressed.

If we do not tend to the fire of our mind, we become toxic with beliefs and stories which lead us astray.

The fire teaches us how to merge the energies of the masculine and feminine; polar energies. It is the original essence of creation and balanced union.

Often, the masculine is associated with the fire. In many cultures, the fire is central in traditional ceremonies and is tended by the masculine. It represents the direct relationship between spirit and those participating in ceremony. Tending to the sacred fire during ceremony, messages and prayers are able to be given and received trough the fire by those participating. The fire is kept alive throughout the day and night until the completion.

During a recent initiation ceremony, while a woman was out fasting alone in the desert, I was at basecamp tending to the fire. For 3 days and nights the fire was my company. Close sisters of hers and mine came each night to assist with the fire tending. Like a child, we kept a watchful eye to its flames, temperature, growth and energy. Every meal, we fed it a bit of what we were eating (to feed the spirits and the woman fasting). We fed it small sticks to pick its energy up and added large logs to temper its heat and slow it down so it would last through the night. When the energy felt intense or stagnant, we fed it prayers and offerings like tobacco, flowers, cedar and sage. When the winds were low, we build it up, and when winds were high we kept it low. We talked to the fire... listened to it, sang to it, said good morning and good night, asked it questions and waited for the answer.

When the woman returned from her fast, she reunited with her sisters and the fire which had burned for her throughout the days and nights as a reflection of her spirit. We celebrated her homecoming with adornments and praises. Once she had broken her fast with broth and fruits, we shared homemade cupcakes she had prepared as a rebirth-day gift to herself; Blue corn cakes topped with raspberry coconut frosting and fresh blueberries! I was about to give a bite to the fire when one sister suggested, "Let's feed the fire a whole cupcake!" A part of me and the woman who had just been fasting, froze in disbelief... A whole cupcake!? We thought. No way we were giving up a whole cupcake to the fire!

We all sat there for a moment, in shock, thinking of what to do... With a little reluctance, we came to accept and opened ourselves to the intention to offer this cherished cupcake to the fire in gratitude.

This gesture was the lesson we were all there for... It is in the moments we are depleted, feel lacking or unworthy, overwhelmed or enraged by indifference that we are tested to feed the fire. When we have all that we need and more, when we are comfortable and joyous, this is not the time that tests our will to give and receive. The offering of this cupcake we were salivating over after days of fasting and hard work, was a symbol of surrendering the beliefs as women, or anyone, that we are not enough or do not have enough. To release patterns and beliefs that we only deserve a bite here and there. Feeding the fire all that we have, all that we had been craving and waiting for was an affirmation that we deserve, and all women deserve the whole cupcake, or a whole cake! It is a symbol of our will to feed the fire when we are on our knees praying for our lives. To feed the fire in liberation of all women, all beings and this earth.

So, that is exactly what we did... we fed this eternal fire burning in each of us.

Topping that precious cupcake with even MORE willful deliciousness we could find!