Getting ready for cold times
Getting ready for cold times
stacking wood, lighting fires
The dry, cured, wood, cut two years ago, is stacked inside. There’s a pile in the box under the stove. Kindling sticks and brown paper bags are waiting. The stove is clean and ready to go.
The temperature is about to drop. It’s inevitable. It’s that time of year. Sweater weather. Warm drinks and early sunsets.
The sudden drops and flash frosts are not uncommon this time of year. Waking up to three inches of snow isn’t unheard of either. It’s good to be ready for when things get icy.
Our emotions and relationships have their seasons as well.
Warm times cool off. Sudden drops in temperature are shocking. The winds of change blow with gusts of chaos.
Either build or imagine building a fire.
Assemble everything.
Build it up, just the way you like to.
(everyone has their way, they learned which is the correct way to build a fire)
Now get the fire going.
Confident in your design?
Do you need to ‘give it a bit of a blow?’
How’s it burning?
What are the similarities and differences in how you build and light a fire and how you create warmth in your relationships?
How do you create light and warmth as relationships cool?
How cold do things need to get before you act to light a fire?
I like this.
There is a season to all things: an ebb and flow. We know that spring will come and warm up our winters, but do our wintering relationships have a natural spring? I don't think so. Our relationships, like a fire, need to be stoked, poked, fed and aerated. I have had a few wither. I have stomped out a couple and I have decided to bring out the bevels and blow some well placed oxygen into one that I didn't have the mental space to save when it needed a subtle readjustment. I let it die without a good reason other than, I had no air. My life was suffering from lack of air and I had none to spare. In hindsight, letting that fire die was a clear sign I wasn't okay. I knew something was wrong. No one grabbed me and said, "Somethings wrong. Are you okay?" That's been my job. I was withering. I needed aeration and as with the physical trauma of hypothermia, I pulled energy from my extremities. If it wasn't necessary for daily survival, I withdrew care. Save the core. Save the organs. The heart is most important. The fingers and toes are wonderful. But this is an emergency and sacrifices must be made. I sacrificed a relationship by withdrawing energy from it.
Turns out, some fires are eternal or maybe just coals stay hot a long, long time when a fire had been lovingly stoked for decades. I am okay now. Examining those times that I haven't been okay has been helping me move forward. Apologizing for letting a fire go out is a winter goal. The coals are warm. I am looking forward to spring.