What Do You Want to Learn Today?
I’ve decided that there’s no better way to say goodbye to your past than to commit it to the flames. Tonight I had my first ritual bonfire, and I feel an unexpectedly strong sense of closure. Ancient cultures like the Celts used bonfires for purification and consecration, and it turns out that knew what they were doing.
My sister, Gill, and I stacked up the paper evidence of our old memories on the living room floor. She took a pile of her junior high notes from friends, skimmed a couple of them, and placed them inside our long-neglected family fireplace. She then struck a match and dropped it on top of the carefully folded pieces of binder paper, watching the paper ignite. The orange flames licked the corners of the pages and curled up the edges. They began to crumble into black ash.
“Ahh, that felt good,” she said. “Your turn.”
I started with old love letters from high school and college. I read through a few quickly and wondering how I could feel so disconnected now from what I felt back then. I knew that I would always have a point of connection to the main characters of my personal history, but any strong emotions about them were long gone. Still, I hesitated for a moment before throwing the letters onto the flames, because the action felt so final. After a few moments, I tossed them into the fire and watched them dissolve. I felt as if I could breathe a little easier when they had disintegrated.
Gill and I took turns throwing papers into the fireplace for two hours, each time describing what we were releasing, until each of our stacks had vanished.

Freedom!

Saying goodbye to the ghosts of boyfriends past.

Ashes to ashes.

I officially let go of my identity as Spark Co-Director. Goodbye yellow pads, goodbye Rolodex and workshop notes. I don't need you anymore.

Isn't it beautiful?
Burning the written documentation of your past is much, much more cleansing than dumping it in the recycling bin, or even shredding it. When the flames consume the pages that symbolize your past, your former self and relationships instantly cease to exist. What remains is nothing, and it forces you to relate to people — your best friend from middle school, or your enemy, for that matter — in a completely new way instead of clinging to how things used to be. You may find it harder than you’d expect to throw into the fire things that once had power over you, but I can all but guarantee that you’ll feel more peaceful after you do.
At the age of 28, I went back to kindergarten. I needed to get my life back on track, and I wanted to start over from the very beginning.
Over several months, I repeated my education, from kindergarten to college. I spent the months that followed learning how to grow up. I'm still learning.
This site is a place for me to tell my story of education, and for you to tell yours: our experiences past and present, and our vision for how it could look in the future.
— Melia Dicker
Mr. Hsu
March 20th, 2009 at 7:03 pm
First off, AMAZING shirt. Simply Amazing.
Secondly, this post is so inspiring. There’s something so mysterious, so alluring about a fire burning, whether a giant bonfire or the small flame of a candle. For me, fires have especially symbolized a sense of unity and individuality at the same time, so I like how you and Gill made it a shared yet unique experience. I think we all have things about our pasts that we could cleanse; for me it’s nothing tangible that could be burned with a fire, so instead I will let them go by “burning” them inside my head. I hope that visualization can help me progress forward.
Thank you!
Melia
March 25th, 2009 at 7:04 pm
Margaret just advised me that “the basketball team goes by Celtics, but the people like to be called Celts in history books, re: your last post.” Haha! In my head I was pronouncing it with a hard C; didn’t even think of the team. Changed it.
Stephen, there’s definitely something hypnotic about fires that encourage people to stare at them quietly, or to divulge things about themselves that they wouldn’t otherwise. Every time I’m around a campfire, I’m surprised by what I learn about people. I like your visualization. I sometimes do that through breathing: in with the good energy, out with the bad.
No Dowry » Blog Archive » Therapy Through Pyromania
April 2nd, 2009 at 2:04 am
[...] wrote a blog post about our fire, and she captured very eloquently how I felt about our [...]
Gilliebean
April 2nd, 2009 at 10:57 am
I love this post. In fact, I quoted you in the post I just wrote about the experience. It felt so good to get rid of that old baggage. I think we should have a bonfire at least once every couple years to clean out the past and move forward.
Melia
April 2nd, 2009 at 2:04 pm
Loved your post. (Check it out at http://no-dowry.com/2009/04/02/therapy-through-pyromania/) You captured the awesomeness of burning up old identities and painful experiences. SO much better than recycling. Let’s definitely make the bonfire a regular event. I’m already looking forward to our next one.
Gene
April 3rd, 2009 at 1:26 am
The orange flames licked the corners of the pages and curled up the edges. They began to crumble into black ash.
Yours and Gill’s entries about this experience was awesome, and those two sentences brought it to another level. Beautiful wording. I got goosebumps that was so good.
Thomas Beck
May 28th, 2009 at 9:43 am
I’ve done the same thing. It was a liberating experience, watching all those old memories go up and dissipate in the atmosphere.