Fire.
It creates. It destroys. It warms. It clears. It ends one cycle and invites the next.
For thousands of years, fire was central to our lives—cooking our food, drying our clothes, keeping us alive through winter, and gathering us in circles of connection, stories, and songs.
But we drifted somewhere along the way in our modern world of electric stoves and screen-lit evenings.
Many people today have never sat in silence around a fire.
They’ve never tended one.
And in that disconnection, an ancient wisdom is forgotten.
We live in a time of convenience—instant warmth, instant meals, instant communication.
But these comforts often come at a cost: our intimacy with the elements.
We’ve lost something primal in our relationship with fire.
It no longer grounds us at the end of the day.
It no longer marks transitions, initiations, or celebrations.
It no longer mirrors the fire we carry inside.
And without that mirror, it’s easy to forget who we are.
Over the years, fire has become a teacher to me.
Not just a source of heat or light but a living wisdom that reveals itself when approached with humility.
Here’s what I’ve learned by sitting with it, walking with it, and praying with it:
A fire asks for your full attention. You can’t be distracted when you’re tending a flame. It brings you back to the now. And in its rhythm, your inner stillness awakens.
A roaring fire begins with a spark. It takes time, breath, and care. There’s no rushing it. You learn to wait, to trust the process.
Feed the fire too much, and it chokes. Feed it too little, and it dies. It teaches you how to balance your energy, work, and relationships. All growth needs balance.
Fire turns wood to ash, pain to wisdom, and endings into new beginnings. It shows us what it means to let go. To burn away what no longer serves.
Fire reminds us that we don’t need to carry it all.
Around the fire, something shifts.
Barriers fall. Stories rise. Hearts open.
It’s universal—across cultures, generations, and time.
At our retreats, fire becomes a sacred container. A space where people release old emotions, limiting beliefs, and stagnant energy.
Beáta (my wife and medicine woman) often says, “The fire is the only shaman in the space.”
The fire maintains presence.
It facilitates the healing process.
It calms in the chaos and brings clarity in the confusion.
Finally, it welcomes the pain, the old patterns, and stuck emotions and transmutes them into authentic gifts and renewed life force.
In many indigenous traditions, fire is known as Grandfather.
An elder. A spirit. A guide.
Whether or not you use that language, the reverence still applies.
Fire deserves our gratitude—for the warmth it offers, the clarity it brings, and the transformation it makes possible.
When was the last time you sat with fire?
Not just lit a candle or flipped a switch—but really sat. Watched. Listened.
Let this be your invitation to return to the flame.
Start small. Light a fire in your backyard. Join a fire ceremony. Or simply sit around a fireplace with someone you love.
Let it bring you back to presence.
Let it show you what you’re ready to release.
Let it remind you of what really matters.
🔥
With gratitude and respect,
Martin
Read the latest insights and stories on the power of psychedelic-assisted therapy and holistic personal development for leaders and entrepreneurs.
