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Fire

To have a life well lived is the greatest feat. What defines living greatly? A genuine sense of purpose offers direction. A well matched partner offers support and depth to one’s heart. The legacy of children bellows into the future one’s existence. Accumulated treasure ensures secutiry from the ravages of the world. If the rhythm of one’s life has become discordant there is choice. Pause. Wait for the rhythm to continue and pick up the beat in the next stanza. If the rhythm orginating from within is a new creation, if it no longer harmonizes with the rhythm one has played then again one faces choice. The old rhythm is familiar. It is customary and well honed. It allows nuance and flair and embellishments. A new rhythm is unexplored maybe even unwritten and incomplete. Shall the endeavor of exploration call to the heart and beckon forth the curiosity of the soul? Discernment of these choices is also a tremendous blessing and gives the texture and intensity of life. Banality in this life is a great enemy for a heart desiring fire. Fear is the loving companion of banality. Do not welcome these guests into your dwelling. Serve no tea to this foe.

A well-lived life can be extravagant or simplified. Stripping down to the essentials allows clarity. Being unencumbered allows fluidity and swiftness. It also allows one to coil into the smallest space apportioned. Hibernation allows time to pass and the harsh winter to recede, but it requires preparation. A lack of preparation is sure death.

A wise and seasoned soldier would never enter battle without a full regalia of armor and weapons. But in the lore or battle, there are few images as fierce and terrifiying as the warrior charging into battle stripped of all armor or clothing. If the once beautiful trinkets collected over the course of living have become the thick armor certain to drown in the flood or hinder the agility needed for the battle, true bravery demands we shed ourselves down to nothing. We must walk into battle bare. We entered this world in slendor and purity. Every newborn life smells like heaven and shines with the radiance of the divine. We shall leave this life equally bare but covered with the taint and stains of this life. Beneath all the scars and carnage is the radiance entrusted to us. We are stewards of the Fire.

A well lived life never loses sight of that fire. This life is a gift. We own it. It is ours. But it is not ours. It is a spark of the divinity of all life. How shall it be honored? Every path is unique. Some paths are well manicured and attended. Some paths are forged through fire or war. Some are solitary climbs up the face of a mountain. Each and all call the fire within. Pause.

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