Extinguishing The Twin Flame: From Fire Crotch To Firefighter.
“What matters most is how well you walk through the fire.” ~ Charles Bukowski
On the chance that you should happen to meet someone new in the midst of your swirling heartbreak, pray to the god of your choosing that he is an actual firefighter.
As a trained first responder, he will be fully equipped to handle whatever hot mess you have gotten yourself into. Don’t be afraid to show him your freshly mangled heart. Without a hint of judgment he will touch your cold clammy skin, kiss your blue lips, and fearlessly witness the look of shock in your eyes. Remember, he has seen it all.
Before the firefighter arrives on the scene, feel free to have a word with the gods once more. Tell Aphrodite that you have had enough of her mischief. Tell her that her son has shitty aim and that you are definitely not in love with the silly ginger who happens to be traveling the world with a broken inner compass. Kindly let both mother and child know that you no longer require their matchmaking services. Tell them you are now in need of Emergency Medical Services. Let the firefighter buy you a drink.
Call upon Kali Ma to help you destroy any evidence of your prior romance. Take the love poem the once sweet ginger wrote to you and toss it in the fire pit. So what if he wrote that he wished the two of you would transform into celestial beings in order to hold hands for all eternity? The fact of the matter is that if he tried to take up the same plot in the sky as you, well, you would commit star suicide, and turn yourself into a black hole. Search the house for gifts he bestowed upon you. Shred the t-shirt with a pair of scissors. Smash the crystal with a hammer. Have your torch ready if he sends flowers your way. Feed every trace of him to the flames.
Accept that your hair will now reek of smoke for days. Consider it an aromatic aphrodisiac for the firefighter. Rest assured that the scent will lure him directly to your bedroom. When he falls asleep nuzzling your scented strands, take your index finger and gently trace the large Christian cross tattooed along his torso. This will be your way of letting Jesus know that you are well aware of his alchemical skills; surely turning one soul’s pain into pleasure would be a mere parlor trick for him. Swear to Jesus that you will have compassion and forgive the wayfaring ginger for his foolishness, but first you just want your heart to stop hemorrhaging.
Make the conscious decision to pick your sad self up off of the cold linoleum floor. And while you are at it, put away the goddamn bag of potato chips. Fight this feeling of sloth that has taken hold of you. Just get your ass up and out the door. Find yourself at the local bodega buying a devotional candle with the Virgin of Guadalupe depicted on it. As the original Lady of Sorrow, she will be sympathetic to your sorry state. Put a light to her wick and pray. Surely her tiny glow will signal to the firefighter, as you lay in bed together, that you are still severely entangled with one specific element.
Close your eyes and consider the darkness for a moment. Know that the minute the firefighter blows out your candle, his services are no longer needed. But before he goes, offer him one final kiss of gratitude, then feel free to slip into a heavy slumber. After you awaken, splash cold water on your face, and quickly head outside. As you practice getting acquainted with the other elements, find a tree to plant yourself under. With legs folded or unfolded, you need only sit for a while. Ask the Buddha to show you how it is done.
Thank the gods for their combined efforts. You now have the strength to sift through the rubble. It is hard to say what you will find between all the ash and debris. It could be a postcard addressed to you from Jerusalem, Kolkata, or even Madrid.
It could be the old love struggling to rise up from the ash, and like the great phoenix — own its newborn status.
Michelle Price is a swimmer, siren, and sea serpent who calls upon her favorite elemental muse (the water) for inspiration. She presses her pen to the paper and waits for the ink to flow; she will not rest until she sees waves. When a hurricane of emotions hits, she stands on the shoreline, taking inventory of all the things that were suddenly swept away. She records what is wrecked, what is gone, and what remains. She is the barefooted explorer who dances between pieces of broken glass, trying to retrieve any traces of treasure. She believes in the power of art to bring to the surface that which has been buried deep below. When we gain the courage to free ourselves from forces that hinder our true creative expression, we begin the healing process. Be it pen or paint brush, she honors all the many different tools of healing humans chose to be reminded of our true divine nature. Michelle also writes bios for holistic health professionals. You can learn more about her services at her website.