Growing up in Zimbabwe, I remember often seeing huge areas of land scarred by the burnt remnants of fire.  What desolation! In those first moments, it truly looks like all is dead.  But then the time passes and rain falls, and the contrast of that charred earth with the bright green shoots of new life is one of the most startling and beautiful sights.  The vibrancy is made more noticeable because of the contrast, and those new shoots! How precious and how strong they are to come through the devastation of the fire!

When we are tested, and asked to pass through our own fires, how many of us have the strength to stand in those fires and know that it’s ok, let alone express thanks to the universe for providing this great opportunity for growth?  It’s grueling and it’s churning and it’s straight up hard.  Thoughts run to places like: when will this end? what did I do to deserve this? And how can I possible avoid or get out of this very uncomfortable situation? Most likely we won’t really be able to see the situation for what it is till well after it’s over.

In yoga terms, being in the fire is being in utkatasana or warrior 3, or whatever uncomfortable yoga pose you can think of, for longer than you want to be.  And it’s being there and being there and being there and wondering when the teacher will damn well let you get out of it.  And it’s being there and feeling like it’s getting worse (even if it isn’t), and it’s unbearable, and you must make it stop. And the tricky thing is the staying piece. How to not just bounce out of the pain/sensation/experience? It’s hard to make ourselves stay in something that we perceive as uncomfortable or unpleasant when we have so many other things to do, and can come up with a million distractions and reasons why it’s fine to be done. In my home practice I often find myself saying: “that’s about enough of that”, just when things are getting uncomfortable. I can think of so many excuses I use to circumvent the challenging stuff in a pose: “oh, look at the time, better finish up here!” “oops, I forgot to get the washing started, no better time than right now!” “Kids are hungry, and as a good and responsible parent I really must feed them” And so on and so on.  But really, we sit in our practice to allow things to arise and to wait for them to subside, shift or become ok. Our mat is our prep for the real deal, and this means allowing ourselves to move through the whole experience of sensations and feelings.

There’s a kids book about this. I’ve read it a million times and perhaps so have you. It’s about going on a bear hunt and having to pass through all sorts of obstacles to get there – long grass, sticky mud, a snow storm, and the list goes on.  And here’s the part that remains the same no matter what we are faced with: you can’t go over it, you can’t go under it, you simply have to go through it!
I’ve thought so often of my experiences giving birth.  How the only way was through, even though there were moments where I so desperately wanted to yell “uncle! (or something more extreme!)” and just get out of it.  But through it I went (because really, there is no turning back at that point!) and yes, afterwards I can say I was happy to have had the experience, because look at the amazing life that came out of it!  But what of the other trials in our lives? Can we sit through them? Can we stay with them without looking for ways to avoid the sensation, trusting that there will be a point when we will recognize it as the phenomenal transformation that we needed?

Unlike birthing, in the rest our of life we have a choice  – to come out of the experience quickly, or to remain in that place and wait for transformation to happen. I don’t know if I will ever be able to happily sit in the fire – I think it might be a bit strange to get to that point – but I am doing my best to acknowledge when I’m in it, and trust that I will come out the other side ok. One way or another.  Whatever life grows from the charred remains will be stronger, more resilient and hopefully, wiser in the long run.