Fire Yelled At Me (And It Was Hot)

Have you ever had a chat with the elements?

Note: This was written from a prompt in a class with Anna Brooke and Vindy Teja where we were encouraged to work with the elements. We weren’t asked to have a full-on conversation with the elements, but something about this format worked for me. Let me know if you try it and how it goes!

Me: Fire, what do you think about where I’m at creatively? I’m a little confused about what I should be writing.

Fire: Where do you feel me in the body?

Me: Hmm, my heart?

Fire: I can’t tell you. You tell me.

Me: My heart.

Fire: Your heart. Great! What does your heart burn for? What lights you up and what burns you out? What keeps you smoldering?

Me: But isn’t what lights me up not supposed to burn me out?

Fire: Answer the question!

Me: What lights me up is sharing my story. I’ve lived a wild one.

I was born and raised in Texas, always dreaming of Broadway—until mental health struggles (or maybe my mystical misunderstood?) rerouted me. Senior year of performing arts high school, I traded the stage for pre-law at UT Austin because I thought I needed to “make money.”

I dropped out sophomore year, moved to LA to become a rockstar, got assaulted, spiraled into depression, moved home, found yoga, and became a certified teacher. Later, I went back to school at UT and earned an anthropology degree.

After graduating, I bought a one-way ticket to Chile where I taught English for a year and learned Spanish. I brought my ukelele and started writing songs again (I wrote my first at 19 on a fair amount of party favors).

A year later, I decided to get a “real” job and became a flight attendant. I still remember sitting on my bed in Texas, memorizing airport codes, feeling that ache in my chest: “I guess I’m never going to be an artist.”

Then I got based in NYC, got married, and had a baby. Afterward, I sank into postpartum depression. A traumatic abortion cracked me open and became the catalyst for my artistic rebirth. After many years, I started making art again.

That’s just the CliffsNotes. I haven’t even touched on addiction recovery or the sacred medicines I’ve learned to work with—and now serve—to heal. The best parts? I can’t even say them out loud yet…but they’re coming.

What keeps me smoldering is, well, Existential Kink. It’s the gift that keeps on giving.

I burn out when my energy output outweighs my input—especially when it’s for things I’m not excited about.

Fire: So, you want to write a book?

Me: I mean, I feel like you have to be successful to write a book that people would actually want to read.

Fire: What is success to you?

Me: Making a living from my art.

Fire: Then write your fucking book.

Me: Heard.

Note: My goal for this year is still to finish my full-length music album, but writing a book is a dream for the future.