“Do you ever have the compulsion to make a big pile of your old self, burn it all down, and start over?”
That’s what my friend asked. (Because her early morning voice memos are deep like that.)
My answer is “uhhhh yes!” I feel the call to “burn, burn, burn it all!” at least once a year. Often more.
The urge to strip certain obligations from my life. The urge to stop showing up in certain ways, stop working on projects that feel luke warm. The undeniable need to stop trying so hard where the “trying” doesn’t matter. To stop caring so much about things that don’t spark joy for me. To be done agreeing to certain behaviors.
When the urge to burn and rebuild comes, I try to honor it in the most natural way… Not always instantly, not always gracefully. Sometimes the urge to burn can be sharp and painful. Other times its slow and informative, like it is now—as wintertime offers slow, reflective, potential-packed dreaming and scheming…
Because it feels the best when there’s a period of contemplation before the big blaze — sweeping the debris into a pile, staring at it, considering it, poking at it, asking myself repeatedly, “What’s it going to feel like once I burn this mother down?”
Then the answer arrives — “so incredibly good” — and I toss the match. There’s a blaze of light. It’s done. And then… darkness.
Ahhh…quiet, velvety, contemplative, darkness. Where the ghost of the fire writhes and potentialdrops its anchor.
The burn is necessary and natural—it’s evolutional!
I was just thinking, how several forest species such as select conifers, NEED fire to survive. (Mom, if you’re reading this…this paragraph is dedicated to you) They grow so big and tall that their seedlings eventually fall on the shady forest floor, a plan too dark and cool to grow. But in the wake of natural or controlled forest fires, their seedlings flourish in the carbon-rich soil left by the burn of the former forest…natural undeniable symbolism.
Your life, work, and art evolve through several incarnations and evolutions, too.
Yes, it can be frightening to change. Yes, you may feel lost for a bit. Yes, your neighbors, family, colleagues, or friends might peek through the fence and wonder what the hell is going on and who on earth you are becoming. Yes, all of that.
But it will undoubtedly be worth it. And secretly, privately, quietly… you know it.
Nobody can toss the match for you.
But when it’s time, then it’s time.
With love and kindling,
Kenzie
P.S. As I prepare for the next bright dream within me to ignite, I’m tending the fire slowly. Letting my most authentic self dance around my heart and mind as I pen it all to the page, threading the needle of Spring with the words of my next chapter.
P.P.S.. Want to join me? Please consider attending my upcoming ReWritten Winter Writing circle for people who love writing — poetry, lists, journaling, etc… (or are curious about it) and want to know; What needs to burn? What can I bathe in darkness, ignite, or reimagine?
Kenzie’s Desk 