On Staring Into The Flames

You know, I’m already thinking that title was a little over zealous. I’m worried it might give you the wrong idea. I’m hoping you weren’t coming here for a deep, philosophical conversation about destruction or entropy or metaphorical desires…because that’s not why I’m here today. I’m here to rant and rave about literal fire and staring into it. 

I’m assuming most, if not all of you, have now left to do more important things. If you haven’t, then buckle up, buttercup. It’s about to get weird. 

I love sitting around a fire. Obviously, the warmth is a big reason why, especially on a cold night. The ability to cook something (usually delicious items like hotdogs or marshmallows) is another point in the “Fires are awesome” column. But, the thing that I love most about a good fire, is staring into it. It’s something I’ve been drawn to since I was a small child, and I think I’m hardly alone in this feeling. 

There’s just something about letting your eyes lose focus and watching the flames flicker and dance that absolutely delights the strange, primitive part of the brain that connects us to our primate ancestors. I assume it’s the same part of the brain that commands us to pick up smooth stones or shiny objects. Maybe it’s just me? Maybe my brain is more crow than human. Anyway…

I love the social aspect of sitting around a fire telling stories and drinking beers as much as the next guy, but there is a certain magic in that moment when you find yourself alone by the fire. The flames lull your eyes into a trance like state with their perpetual motion. The way they ebb and flow mesmerizes in such a way that time seems to lose all meaning. By the time you blink and bring yourself back to the present moment, it isn’t clear if you’ve been absentmindedly staring for a minute or an hour, but your eyes are dry and your hair smells like smoke.

There is a Zen like peace I always feel when staring into a fire. It doesn’t matter how stressed I am, how worried or excited I’m feeling, there is an evenness that staring into the flames brings. I find myself both completely present and absolutely dissociated. Simultaneously, feeling the warmth, watching the fire, thinking no other thoughts, but also feeling disconnected from my body, my mind, and time itself.

Maybe this is how truthful and practiced meditation is supposed to feel? A way to clear your mind of all the busy thoughts and simply be present. Or maybe it’s the complete opposite, feeling not at all in touch with your mind or your body or your sense of self? 

I don’t know, and I doubt I’ll ever find out but, I’ll keep staring into the flames whenever I get the chance because sometimes it’s just nice to zone out and let your lizard-brain enjoy something.