Tend the Fires

This morning there is water everywhere. It is running downhill towards the ocean in rivulets, gathering force into a muddy torrent that is Pudding Creek. At the ocean, the waves are surging, splashing up over the cliffs, and washing away chunks of the footpaths that run along the bluffs that overlook the ocean.

In December, on most early mornings, I sit in the silent darkness in front of a fire, watching it pop and dance. The sun rises. 

In the winter I keep the fire going all day, tending it as it burns so that it keeps us warm and dry. It is like life, burning high sometimes and at other times burning low. It can be dangerous, and it can also be an exceptional ally, bringing comfort and light.

Most of all fire consumes. This is like life too - we consume. Food, of course, but also the news and even our thoughts and emotions. A fire is tended to with care, keeping the flames going; neither too hot nor leaving it to smolder and die out. In the same way, we can tend to what we consume to keep the fire steady, warming us as we go through life.

That which has been burned cannot be brought back, and time marches relentlessly onward. There is a great call, if we listen, to care for that which is burning. 

We are alive now in this blazing world. Let's tend the fires together.