The stage is set
Moist and, muddy dewy grass, just like it needs to be
Decorated with a carpet consisting of a mosaic of coal and chopped wood.

I am calm so far

My previous calmness diminishes bit by bit
As I witness the carpet of coal and wood being set on fire.
It envelopes quickly in tall flames
The heat hitting my face despite me being at a far distance
It snaps me out of my idealistic perception into a sober reality of what it is I am planning to do

It isn't just me
I see the resolve fading away from the audience's faces
Excitement replaced by worry, doubt and fear
Suddenly the previously eager volunteers aren't feeling so hot about the idea

They know this
The leaders are aware of this
They were expecting it
Counting on it almost
They ceremony begins with the hypnotic beat of the drums
Drums that drunken my senses
My body taking a will of its own
It begins to dance and move and I am unable to control it
Limbs gyrating in perfect synchronicity with the beats
As if I had been born for this purpose alone
Drums always remind me of my lost ancestors
My physical appearance belongs to their murderers
But my soul? My soul remembers what it's real roots are whenever I hear drums

Their trick is working
The drums almost make me forget about the dangerous activity I am about to partake in.
Almost

That almost is my survival instinct crying out for my self preservation
I cower somewhat
Moving to the back of the queue
Delaying the inevitable

I see the others walk through the fire
Some are calm
Others are blissful
There are those that are scared
And then there's the few that misstepped on the bright red coal and burnt their feet

The queue begins to shorten
My heartbeat begins to accelerate
I attempt to rationalize the situation
I remember that there's a science behind this
That nothing was left to chance
I used the ones that finished their walk successfully as a motivational example

But I see those flames
I see the bright hot red stones that used to be onyx black and dull
And all rational thought flows out the window

It's almost my turn
I swipe my feet on the muddy grass in order to make my feet wet
It adds a protective layer between the hot coal and my skin, you see

I want to run
I want to escape
I want to be rescued
Who wants to be brave? All brave people are dead

I begin to express my decision to withdraw from the challenge
A pair of gentle hands behind me cradle my trembling arms
A voice whispers softly reassuring words into my ear
The voice's owner promises me to walk with me
Reassuring me that I won't walk alone
The soothing whispers combined with the intoxicating music of the drums temporarily numbs my inhibitions
I put a foot forward
My foot completely steps on the hot coal
I am bracing for the worst
I felt... nothing
Absolutely nothing
A hint of warmth that actually felt good

Still, I concentrate on the task at hand
Warning myself not to get complacent
To remember to keep my steps just right
Not too light but not too deep, otherwise I'll burn

The trail ends quickly
Before I can even register it my feet are safe on the grass again
I actually did it
I walked on fire, unscathed
The crowd cheers and my feet get doused in water

I want to do it again
So, I did just that
It was almost a feeling of pure ecstasy
Not the heat, of course
But the realization that I was walking on fire
And my skin wasn't burning
I don't even feel it
I felt invincible

No words, no speeches, no clothes, and no career will ever make me feel more empowered than I am at this very moment
This is bravery (and stupidity)
Not something that many would dare do

Say what you will about me
Cherish the education you got at the school of hard knocks and the street
Dismiss my pampered and cushy existence
But I can say that I walked on fire, thrice

I walked on fire
And I liked it
And I came out of it unharmed
And that's more than you'll ever be able to say for yourself
You can only use fire as a metaphor
I did it for real

I am a Fire Walker



© Elsbeth Mareile G.C.