She Has Fire Inside

I had always admired those who had this inner flame in them. Who lived with fire. I admired those who left their lives in blazing trails of glory. I wanted to be like those who debated with a passion akin to a space dragon on fire. I wanted to be like them. I wanted to be fiery, fierce, and passionate. I hoped to be able to powerfully brand ideas in words presented with passion. I had thought and hoped that someday my fire would add to the glorious passion I saw.

I wanted to find the fire inside of me. 

I wanted and hoped and wished to be like them. I wanted to be fiery, fierce, and passionate. As I went throughout this debate course, I searched with increasing urgency for this fire inside of me. I wanted to debate with passion, logic, and power. I worked incredibly hard. I prepared as much as I could for each debate. I wanted for this fire to come out of me. I lost every debate. This fierceness that I longed for evaded me. I did not find the burning inferno I sought.

Yet, I have fire inside of me. 

My fire wasn't meant to burn or destroy. It wasn't meant to leave my life seared by flame. It wasn't meant to leave things simply ashes of what they were. It wasn't meant to be fiery and powerfully branding. My fire was meant to give warmth and heat. My fire was meant to draw people by it's light. My fire was meant to encourage others to draw near to me, and not further away. At times my fire will burn or singe, but such is the nature of fire. My fire was meant to burn bright. My fire was meant to warm and to heal.

If I am to be completely vulnerable and flawed here, I was not thrilled by this discovery. I wanted to awe people with my fire. I wanted to show them a side of me that they wouldn't expect. I wanted so deeply for this fierce fire to be inside of me. I felt frustrated by the gentleness of my nature. I longed to be seen as a force worth reckoning with, and not simply mediocre. I didn't want this. I didn't want this gentle flame. I wanted to find an edge to me. I wanted to find that I could have just as much grit, just as much passion, as those whom I so admired for their flaming passion.

But I am learning. 

Ohhhhhhh I am learning. 

I have learned that there are many kinds of fire. I learned that the gentle ones, though often overlooked and stepped upon, are important. They make a difference. I learned that my fire is needed. I learned that my fire was given to me for a reason. My fire gives light. My fire keeps others warm. There is value in that.  The healers are needed in this world. The illuminaters of the path are needed. While vastly unseen and largely unrecognized, they are there. The power of healing is just as powerful as the power of destroying. Perhaps it is more powerful: I would advocate that it is so. For many can tear down; few can build.

And thus it is that I discovered there was fire inside of me. Now tell me, for I am insatiably curious, what is your fire?