Alicia Keys’ “Girl on Fire” began playing through Spotify in our car the other day, and our three-year-old, Logan, suddenly got very quiet.
After taking in the first few lines where Keys repeats the word ‘fire’ a few times, he chimed in with, “Fire!”
“Yes,” I replied. “Fire.”
I didn’t know what he was making of the lyrics, but fire was clearly sticking.
Eventually, we reached the chorus where Keys belts out, “She’s walkin’ on fire!” and Logan responded immediately.
“Walking on fire?!” his voice raising with incredulity and excitement.
“Yeah,” I said. “What do you think about that?”
“I want to go there!”
“Go where you walk on fire?”
“Yes. I wanna walk on fire.”
Over the years I’ve probably heard that song dozens of times, and while I have appreciated the intense energy and imagery, never once have I thought to myself, “Gosh, walking on fire sounds amazing! Let’s go there.”
And yet, something in Logan’s three-year-old mind was drawn to that very idea.
And maybe that’s not so bad. In fact, is it possible we could use a little more of that kind of inclination these days?
—
About ten years ago I began hearing people use the phrase “Dumpster Fire” more frequently, and I continue to hear it with some frequency.
Usually, it’s a reference to a political situation.
Other times it’s about a work situation.
Sometimes it’s about a relationship situation.
Occasionally it’s about something going on within, and we simply do not want to go there. At. All.
Always, though it is about some kind of total mess that nobody in their right mind would want to walk toward, deal with, or in any way get near.
It smells.
You’ll get burned.
It’s beyond repair.
And so - quite understandably - a good many people tap out of dumpster fire realities. ASAP. Myself included.
But this wasn’t always my first inclination.
As I tucked Logan into bed later that evening, I reflected more on his walking-on-fire desire, and I was reminded of my Kindergarten and first grade self. If you had asked that Bobby, “What do you want to be when you grow up?” the answer was quite clear: “Firefighter.”
Why? I don’t think I could have put it into words, but somehow deep within I was drawn to the idea not of running from the fire but going into it.
And…
Helping.
Making things better.
At least cooling things off.
—
Children have not yet learned to be practical and realistic. They have not learned to put up their guard and nor have they been trained that safety, comfort, or money is the single most important thing. Which is why I’ve come to believe that oftentimes children prove prophets of some of our era’s most timely wisdom.
For instance, they see fire and wonder about…
Walking amidst it.
Bringing water to it.
Whether it is somehow within the fire that there is a gift or a call or both.
Minimally, this speaks to the fact that their curiosity burns far brighter than their sense of resignation, despair, or fear - and that’s worth a lot these days.
And, most notably, their surprising inclinations echo some of the most enlightened wisdom and promises of old.
Like…
A blazing fire makes flame and brightness out of everything that is thrown into it. (Marcus Aurelius)
The time has come to turn your heart into a temple of fire. Your essence is gold hidden in dust. To reveal its splendor you need to burn in the fire of love. (Rumi)
When you walk through the fire, you will not be burned; the flames will not set you ablaze. (Isaiah 43:2)
And then on the more contemporary side of things, there was another catchy fire song from twenty years ago that had a good measure of dumpster fire lament-and-wisdom, too:
The world is on fire, it's more than I can handle
I'll tap into the water, try to bring my share…
(from “World on Fire” by Sarah McLachlan)
—
How do you name the dumpster fires around you today?
In one right this moment?
To be sure, I’m not saying to go running into every dumpster fire you see. Nor am I saying that if you are in one you shouldn’t find your way out as soon as possible.
I simply want to note that for a long time children and sages alike have recognized that the fire may be about more than just total destruction to be avoided at all costs.
Because maybe it is precisely in the depth of fire…
That a lot of old, weighty dross finally melts away.
That our truest self is forged, clarified, and sharpened.
That we walk with a kind of grounded calm that slows the fury.
That our call to bring water unfolds most meaningfully.
That we discover ourselves held-and-not-burned in ways we could never have imagined.
And if any or all of that is going in the fire, we should probably ask ourselves - is Love somewhere among these flames?
After all (mindful of those ancient voices),
Love burns like blazing fire, like a mighty flame.
Many waters cannot quench love; rivers cannot wash it away. (Song of Solomon 8:6)
—
Maybe that’s it. Maybe Logan was simply saying, “I want to walk where there’s love.”
I don’t know. But he snuggled into me that night while I thought about my old firefighter dreams.
And at least in that moment, his response to the song made all the sense in the world.
Good one kids do make you think about things in their level of thinking!
I love how you are listening closely to Logan. The world through a child’s eyes can be wondrous to behold.