It had been too long since I’d last had a fire. And I’m not talking about grilling some steaks on the ol’ Webber. I’m talking about a real, feel the heat penetrate deep in your soul fire, lots of big pieces of wood fire, the kind of fire that the neighbors might call the fire department for!
And the next morning putting on that favorite worn and totally comfortable T-shirt you get that unmistakable smell of wood-smoke that floods in the memories of the night before.
I don’t think I washed that shirt yet.
After watching movies like The Revenant Legends of the Fall I found that I was missing that part of being a man. Of that rugged youth and adventure, I had experienced years ago when living in Maine.
Bonfires on the beach at Little Cranberry Island, running like the wind across large boulders and rocks at the Coast Guard Station and drinking up the friendship and camaraderie of fellow fire watchers as the alcohol and weed permeated our minds and happiness permeated our hearts.
My soul had filled back them with these seemingly insignificant events. It is the simplicity of being outdoors with like-minded individuals. The sharing of a moment in time that is so primitive and so ingrained in our soul, a sense of well-being and a sense of worth and purpose can only emerge days and weeks later.
I look back at those times when my soul was nourished. I look back at the moments when being alive had a definite feeling, a feeling of worthwhile membership in life.
I sit here today with a bourbon chilling on the coffee table. A laptop open next to me with my one main way of checking in with friends, FACEBOOK.
There are no more bonfires. Friendships are merely a comment here a smiley face there. We have become too busy trying to figure out how to get through the year without remortgaging the house.
Remember how simple it all still can be?
I can put on my headphones, lose myself in some Beethoven. Drift into a deep slumber with the sounds of the master in my ears.
Recently I dusted off an old leather-bound journal and after reading my thoughts and dreams of my past bonfires. I began writing down my may-be futures, my dreams of where the last third of my life will be spent. And what will my daughters think of all these miscellaneous ramblings?
And I can engage in real conversations. We spend a great deal of time in nonchalant banter with those we meet. Even those we work with. When I’m at the store and waiting as the sales clerk rings up my good, I begin to talk with them, call the person with the silly vest on by name. I start a short and engaging conversation. Life is about stories, we all have them. We all have had bonfires of our past and those stories remain hidden within until someone takes the time to ask and talk.
And, unplug everything. Take a long walk with your best friend. Don’t fear the silence nor the deepness of the conversation.
AND FINALLY, one evening, when the air has a chill to it. Invite a few friends over. Break out that bottle of bourbon (or hot cider) and build a bonfire.
Life has become complicated, but we can take back the simplicity and continue to create those memories.
Don McCoy
Reprinted from: 22 November 2016
The Journey of a thousand miles 