I've been in all kinds of different situations: the burn-it-all-down, the accumulating too much fuel and now the more regular fire regime. Balance is of course always best, but sometimes burn it all down is just what is needed and we can feel so much lighter afterwards. I'm doing my best now to stay in a regular fire regime :-)
Burning it all down certainly can have difficult consequences, but the upside is, as you point out, you may feel so much lighter. Our society, in general, has us carrying far too much so it’s a wonder more of us aren’t going all scorched earth! Thanks for sharing, Sophie. 🩵
I think we're carrying around too much because 'giving up ' is often seen as failure, so we continue with things that aren't good for us for way too long.
I'm belatedly reading and loving this piece, Wendy! Sorry for the stress you had to go through but isn't it amazing what the universe can unfold for us when we sit back and let things run their course? I've seen this happen as well, not to mention felt the calling to "burn things down" (with some guardrails of course) - all the more so lately, to be honest. I'm a Cancer-Leo cusp and so acutely feel the dance between Water and Fire in particular - two elements that need each other but where there can be friction. Cheers to more burning for change and renewal!
Thank you so much, Ramya! Indeed. I’m now sitting in the airport awaiting departure so I’m most definitely moving into another space. I’d love to hear more about your journey. Interesting about your astrological makeup…I’m solidly an Aquarius (Air) which comports with so much of who I am, but I’m not sure what that says about this post. Perhaps I have some modulating influences that prevented me from torching everything! 💨🔥🤣
THIS: The scorched earth approach is likely born of trauma, avoidance, and difficulty regulating emotions. (I’ve been on the receiving end of this kind of behavior and I wouldn’t wish it on anyone.) Conversely, accumulation of far too much debris can be a sign of the people-pleasing that accompanies anxious attachment. And, somewhere in the middle is a place of balance
My history is a pattern of swinging from one to the other. I think accumulating too much then burning it too the ground when I see no other way out. Thanks Wendy for this piece. I need to think and journal on this.
Thank you, Kate. I'm glad this resonated with you. It's all a delicate balance and the weight of 'adulting' in this culture makes it hard to keep the fuel at bay. I'd love to hear how the journalling goes. (And, then, there's the 'stupid little walk', which helps everything!)
I loved this piece, Wendy, especially the very terraphilic metaphors of wildfire and fire ecology. I am so sorry that the cable company drilled through your sewer line and your insurance company bailed on you. That sounds like a year of hell, honestly. And go you for turning the fire the universe lit into one that cleared out the overgrown underbrush in your life, and allowed you to chart a new path in the house and beyond!
The universe lit a match for me when Richard was diagnosed with brain cancer, and I've been learning how to use that fire ever since. I don't want earth so scorched that nothing recovers, but I do want fire that leaves fertilizing ash and room for new growth. I'm still figuring that out.
And my inner botanist was intrigued by your mention of creosote bush and California's coastal chaparral, so here's my comment on that: the fragrant creosote bush you know (Larrea tridentata) is a central component of the plant community of the Mojave, Sonoran and Chihuahuan deserts, but it is not part of the coastal chaparral shrub community in California. Nor is creosote bush fire-dependent (fire was not historically part of the hot desert environment, and the introduction of invasive grasses has brought fire to those plant communities with catastrophically terrible results.) Califorinia's coastal chaparral community is fire-dependent, and indigenous folks burned small areas of it regularly to keep the diversity high and enhance the hunting and small-scale foraging. Some chaparral plant seeds will not germinate until they sense compounds in wildfire smoke, in particular, the compounds produced when the shrub canopy burns, creating ash for fertilizer and letting sunlight hit the ground. So the Californial coastal chaparral community is not just fire-dependent, it knows fire so intimately that the seeds of the plants there speak fire's language. That's a metaphor that would be fun to explore for humans.
Blessings to you as you find your way into new paths post-fire....
Thank you, Susan, for your thoughtful comments and your support. I am more than relieved to have this housing fiasco behind me. None of what I've been though comes close to what you and Richard faced. I can't really imagine the kind of impact that fire brings.
Yes, you are correct. I didn't mean to imply that the creosote bush is fire-dependent but more that this was the chaparral I know--and even then it's a bit of.a misnomer since it refers to the herbal extract rather than the bush itself (though I do think it may be used colloquially). Indeed, it is the California chaparral that is fire-dependent. I love the idea that the seeds 'speak fire's language'. Indeed, they do.
I'm well on my way...next stop: Kenya. Blessings to you too, Susan.
Absolutely wonderful Wendy. I love how you contrast fire fuel with scorched earth. Scorched earth never leads to anything good. But I think we all accumulate fire fuel and I know I have some that needs to burn away. Wonderful essay.
Thank you so much, Linnea! I really appreciate your kind words and support--and your inspiration. It's a delicate balance: the weight of 'adulting' in this culture makes it hard to keep the fuel at bay. And, 'no' to scorched earth!
I've been in all kinds of different situations: the burn-it-all-down, the accumulating too much fuel and now the more regular fire regime. Balance is of course always best, but sometimes burn it all down is just what is needed and we can feel so much lighter afterwards. I'm doing my best now to stay in a regular fire regime :-)
Burning it all down certainly can have difficult consequences, but the upside is, as you point out, you may feel so much lighter. Our society, in general, has us carrying far too much so it’s a wonder more of us aren’t going all scorched earth! Thanks for sharing, Sophie. 🩵
I think we're carrying around too much because 'giving up ' is often seen as failure, so we continue with things that aren't good for us for way too long.
Absolutely. Pile that on top of the burdens of a culture of materialism and you have a recipe for burnout.
I'm belatedly reading and loving this piece, Wendy! Sorry for the stress you had to go through but isn't it amazing what the universe can unfold for us when we sit back and let things run their course? I've seen this happen as well, not to mention felt the calling to "burn things down" (with some guardrails of course) - all the more so lately, to be honest. I'm a Cancer-Leo cusp and so acutely feel the dance between Water and Fire in particular - two elements that need each other but where there can be friction. Cheers to more burning for change and renewal!
Thank you so much, Ramya! Indeed. I’m now sitting in the airport awaiting departure so I’m most definitely moving into another space. I’d love to hear more about your journey. Interesting about your astrological makeup…I’m solidly an Aquarius (Air) which comports with so much of who I am, but I’m not sure what that says about this post. Perhaps I have some modulating influences that prevented me from torching everything! 💨🔥🤣
THIS: The scorched earth approach is likely born of trauma, avoidance, and difficulty regulating emotions. (I’ve been on the receiving end of this kind of behavior and I wouldn’t wish it on anyone.) Conversely, accumulation of far too much debris can be a sign of the people-pleasing that accompanies anxious attachment. And, somewhere in the middle is a place of balance
My history is a pattern of swinging from one to the other. I think accumulating too much then burning it too the ground when I see no other way out. Thanks Wendy for this piece. I need to think and journal on this.
Thank you, Kate. I'm glad this resonated with you. It's all a delicate balance and the weight of 'adulting' in this culture makes it hard to keep the fuel at bay. I'd love to hear how the journalling goes. (And, then, there's the 'stupid little walk', which helps everything!)
I loved this piece, Wendy, especially the very terraphilic metaphors of wildfire and fire ecology. I am so sorry that the cable company drilled through your sewer line and your insurance company bailed on you. That sounds like a year of hell, honestly. And go you for turning the fire the universe lit into one that cleared out the overgrown underbrush in your life, and allowed you to chart a new path in the house and beyond!
The universe lit a match for me when Richard was diagnosed with brain cancer, and I've been learning how to use that fire ever since. I don't want earth so scorched that nothing recovers, but I do want fire that leaves fertilizing ash and room for new growth. I'm still figuring that out.
And my inner botanist was intrigued by your mention of creosote bush and California's coastal chaparral, so here's my comment on that: the fragrant creosote bush you know (Larrea tridentata) is a central component of the plant community of the Mojave, Sonoran and Chihuahuan deserts, but it is not part of the coastal chaparral shrub community in California. Nor is creosote bush fire-dependent (fire was not historically part of the hot desert environment, and the introduction of invasive grasses has brought fire to those plant communities with catastrophically terrible results.) Califorinia's coastal chaparral community is fire-dependent, and indigenous folks burned small areas of it regularly to keep the diversity high and enhance the hunting and small-scale foraging. Some chaparral plant seeds will not germinate until they sense compounds in wildfire smoke, in particular, the compounds produced when the shrub canopy burns, creating ash for fertilizer and letting sunlight hit the ground. So the Californial coastal chaparral community is not just fire-dependent, it knows fire so intimately that the seeds of the plants there speak fire's language. That's a metaphor that would be fun to explore for humans.
Blessings to you as you find your way into new paths post-fire....
Thank you, Susan, for your thoughtful comments and your support. I am more than relieved to have this housing fiasco behind me. None of what I've been though comes close to what you and Richard faced. I can't really imagine the kind of impact that fire brings.
Yes, you are correct. I didn't mean to imply that the creosote bush is fire-dependent but more that this was the chaparral I know--and even then it's a bit of.a misnomer since it refers to the herbal extract rather than the bush itself (though I do think it may be used colloquially). Indeed, it is the California chaparral that is fire-dependent. I love the idea that the seeds 'speak fire's language'. Indeed, they do.
I'm well on my way...next stop: Kenya. Blessings to you too, Susan.
Have an amazing time in Kenya! Thank you for being you in this world. :)
Awww..thank you. I’m happy to have your company :). And, stay tuned for field notes from Kenya!
Absolutely wonderful Wendy. I love how you contrast fire fuel with scorched earth. Scorched earth never leads to anything good. But I think we all accumulate fire fuel and I know I have some that needs to burn away. Wonderful essay.
Thank you so much, Linnea! I really appreciate your kind words and support--and your inspiration. It's a delicate balance: the weight of 'adulting' in this culture makes it hard to keep the fuel at bay. And, 'no' to scorched earth!