LIFE BONFIRE: Sharing the Experience from Another Perspective

This might be the most narcissistic realization. Of. My. Life.

I waited until this post – my swan song on “Fire and Motion” – to allow someone else write and/or share on my blog. How egotistical and self-centered am I?

For the last four years – 162 blog posts – I have been the lone contributor to this hedonistic purging of words, thoughts, ideas and bullsh. It’s so disappointing and gross to think about.

What was possibly going through my head? “I have the laptop and you’ll listen to every damn word I say?”

Well, the vanity stops here...

Even though this is my final post on “Fire and Motion,” I’ve asked three other people to write it. These three people (right) were an integral part my “Life Bonfire,” and I begged them to share their thoughts and feelings about that night. They obliged.

The reason why I’m kicking myself about not having a “guest blogger” before this – these accounts are AWESOME! TK and our friends, Dave and Kimbra, do an amazing job of capturing the essence of that night around the fire. I love how each one of them describes the exact same event in their own wonderfully great way.

I can’t stress enough how grateful I am to each one of them for playing a role in this amazing journey.

Sure, we were burning my “crap,” but that was just the catalyst. Kimbra put it best in her narrative: “...it was as if the embers landed between us and sparked conversations that could not have been created any other way.”

– – –

You’ve Got to Keep the Fire Burning
by Tanya Myers (a.k.a. TK)

Even though Drew had written blog posts, and often mentioned his "burn box,” I did not realize how heavily it had weighed on him until the fire was roaring and the first conversation started. I saw a seriousness come over Drew as he began to take things out of the box and put them in the fire.

One of first things that he pulled out of the box were the many, many brochures from his failed business (e-Partners in Giving). There was real sadness in me as he set them on the fire. The words in my head were frantic...

”Wait, that dream can't be over...not yet!”

“We can give it one more shot!”

I began to tear up a little as Drew kept adding more brochures to the fire. The flames even started to fizzle out, because the brochures were literally smothering the fire.

As I started to write this recap, I realized those brochures were smothering us too.

The many boxes that sat at the back of the garage whispered to us every time we were in there: “psst...failed business...psst...broken dreams.”

As Dave and I worked really hard to keep the fire going, Drew – ever the coach –told us how to do it....how to keep it burning. And that is really a metaphor for life. We have to get rid of the crap to keep the fire burning. And sometimes we need the help of friends and family to keep it alive.

Now I can walk in the garage and listen to other things that speak to me: upholstery projects to be finished, bikes that need riding, things to be donated or pitched. (Trust me, my garage is not somewhere you want to enter in the dark – or the daylight for that matter.)

For me, the best part of the evening was the conversation and being with dear friends. Someone would make a point, and then the others would think about it and apply it to their own lives. There were many moments of peaceful silence as we all contemplated our emotions and took a deeper look at what we were hanging onto and why. We were able to just sit and think about life, instead of being too busy living it.

The memories of this evening will stay with me for a while, and if not, we took a few photos...something to hold onto so we won't forget. (Of course!)

– – –

Looking At the Fire From the Ashes
by Dave Quinn

Drew’s “Life Bonfire” proved to be much more intriguing than I thought it would be. I really figured I would just be there to cheer him on and enjoy a free weekend on the Brazos River with my family. But as we prepared for the bonfire, I felt myself slipping into a ruminating state. The simple act of talking about our pasts allowed my memories from long ago to crawl out into the open.

As Drew began to toss various items into the fire, and our discussion began in earnest, I was struck by an interesting thought: Just seven months ago, I had witnessed thousands of people lose everything they owned in a devastating fire. Here, Drew was freely tossing his past into the flames. He had a chance to carefully select, say goodbye and come to grips with letting go of his stuff.

Those who lose their belongings in a disaster are not given this kind of opportunity – to pick and choose between mementos to save and crap to get rid of.

I know ceremoniously tossing my “precious keepsakes” into a bonfire is a better option, because having them taken by a natural disaster would be a depraved act of thievery. But how many people spend a lifetime boxing up and storing random items from their past? (Only to have their children or grandchildren sort through it at the worst possible time in their lives.) People, who are unwilling to let go of their life “road-markers,” force their family to make decisions they’re too afraid or too lazy to make themselves.

While I would never suggest losing everything in a fire is a great way to reduce clutter, having everything you think is important ripped from you does force you to refocus on the truly important things in your life – family and friends. I appreciate Drew allowing us to be a part of his interesting adventure. I look forward to bonfire part deux. My box of "to burn'” is already beginning.

– – –

Getting Down to Heart of the Matter
by Kimbra Quinn

As we gathered around the fire to say goodbye to Drew’s treasures, I felt like we should sing a round of “Deep in the Heart of Texas.”

It was the perfect Texas night – an incredible night sky, the Brazos River meandering its way through the countryside and century old oak trees, with twisted branches, that left plenty of room for the stories that they had witnessed. The perfect setting only served as the backdrop for the true perfection of the night.

As Drew tossed each of his prized processions into the fire, it was as if the embers landed between us and sparked conversations that could not have been created any other way. We talked about the moments in life that have brought us to this point. We talked about past loves, life events, hopes and dreams. We talked about life’s experiences, our thoughts and feelings. We talked about the people.

Somehow, Drew’s bonfire harnessed our collective pasts and gave us a moment in time. It branded the experience and our friendship forever in my heart. I guess I could have scooped up some of the ashes as a reminder, but that would have been contrary to the point, right? After all, the ashes would not have told my children how blessed I felt to share in Drew’s history, his life. That will be up to me to do as I teach them the importance creating memories and sharing our lives with others.

That night, I thought about my treasures, and I thought about the things that I have gotten rid of over the years – like the boxes of home decorating magazines from days of wanting to be an interior designer. I thought about the cigar box of full of letters from my high school boyfriend and binder after binder of research papers from graduate school. All part of my story, but not necessary to have in my hand to remember how they changed my life.

I am the sum of those experiences. Therefore, when I am no longer on this earth, my hopes, dreams, values, morals, and my very being will live on through my children and those I love because I have invested in their lives. They won’t need a token to remember how I made them feel.

I can’t wait to have a “Life Bonfire!” I think it will be liberating. (A little like what I imagine burning a bra might feel like!) It will be more than burning things, but creating an opportunity for others to share in my life. It will create an experience that seals the meaning of friendship into our soul. And, so much more fun than throwing things in the trash!

Thanks, Drew! I am honored to have been a part of your life bonfire not only from “Deep in the Heart of Texas,” but also from way down deep in my heart!

– – –

EDITOR’S NOTE: As mentioned above, this is the last blog post on “Fire and Motion.” It’s time to start Defining Audacity.

Thanks for all your support to this point of my “blogging career” – I appreciate you reading my blog more than you’ll ever know. (Feel free to check out definingaudacity.com NOW – just realize there is no fresh content and still a little construction going on until April 2.)

'Treasures' Stoke Fire, Night to Remember

I did it – I burned my “treasures.”

Expired driver’s licenses...gone.

Newspaper articles with my byline...gone.

My high school diploma...gone.

Sitting around a fire pit – under a blanket of the brightest Texas stars that I can remember– I created one of the most profound memories of my life. It was one of those once-in-a-lifetime moments – filled with so much emotion, reflection and hope.

Reminder: I came up with this “Life Bonfire” to simply purge some of the personal “crap” that I felt compelled to hold on to all these years.

I NEVER dreamt it would turn into such an amazing journey. It was so extraordinary, I almost don’t know where to start.

How about the beginning? Makes sense, right?

Last Friday, I loaded up a box of my keepsakes and headed out to my parents’ house. They live in the country, and I thought it would be the perfect backdrop for this personal exploration. I also invited a couple close friends to be part of the adventure.

After dinner, and the kids were tucked into bed, we poured some adult beverages, put on some Texas Country Music and lit the fire. It was not an A&M-inspired inferno, just an above-average campfire. (“Bonfire” was definitely a stretch.) I lit a cigar and started to stoke the blaze with my memories.

– – –

If I had to describe how I felt before my “Life Bonfire,” I would say anxiety outweighed all the other emotions.

If I had to describe my emotions as I started to toss things into the flames: Reflective and alive.

If I had to describe my state of mind afterwards: At peace and inspired. (Not to mention intoxicated – the Jameson really helped me battle the sentimental hoarder who lives inside me.)

The best part of the evening was the conversations sparked by the fire (pun intended). The wonderfully great part was the fact that the dialogue was NOT all about me and my “crap.” I’d throw something in the fire, and someone would share about a particular moment in his or her life, tell a story about a similar keepsake or simply offer a judicious nugget for the group to chew on.

It wasn’t forced or scripted conversation – just insightful and fun. There were a lot of laughs – and not a single tear. More often than not, someone would share something profound and we’d just tuck our lips, nod our heads, and expel a barely audible, “Hmmm.”

I wanted to share some of the commentary, because it definitely does the best job of capturing the essence of the evening:

• We gave our opinion on why we thought people hold on to these "treasures." TK offered the most weighty perspective: “I just think a lot of people are scared they’re going to be forgotten.” WOW!

• We also decided that our “crap” simply helps us remember – it's a trigger mechanism. Maybe it doesn't enhance a memory, but it does remind you to stop and reflect.

• Our friends, who live in Bastrop, brought a unique perspective to the conversation. Last summer, their community – which is located just east of Austin – was devastated by some of the worst wildfires in the history of the state. More than 1,600 families lost everything in the fires – and here I was, actually burning my stuff on purpose.

It made me feel a little guilty, but it reminded me of something I wrote in my initial post: “I want to take the inevitable into my own hands...” More than anything, it made me sad for those families. They didn’t get the opportunity to “say goodbye” to their “treasures.” I feel fortunate that I did.

• You have no idea how much I appreciated the comments I received following my initial post. They were so enlightening and thought-provoking. We discussed these comments at length around the fire. It was neat to get everyone’s thoughts and opinions, but it was even more interesting to discuss them as my mementos turned to ashes in front of us. (If you haven’t already read these comments, I encourage you to scan them. If you shared a comment...thank you!)

• We all agreed that there is a fine line between being a sentimental hoarder (keeping anything and everything) and being flippant and/or reckless (“BURN IT ALL!”)

That’s a great bridge to this necessary point of clarification: I did NOT burn everything. (I’m sorry if I gave ANY indication that I was jumping off the deep end and torching every keepsake in my possession.) Before I loaded up my box and took it out to the country, I scanned through all my “junk” and made a judgment call.

Here’s an example of three things that were NEVER considered for the burn pile:

Book of poems and short stories

from my high school creative writing class

High school letters & patches

(why they were never put on a jacket is beyond me)

The board game I created when I asked TK to marry me

I received some great advice about handling similar “treasures” in the future: Use one box and only keep the best of the best. If your box gets full, don’t start another box – decide if that keepsake is more important/sentimental than a particular item already in the box and replace it if it is. LOVE IT! (Thanks, Nina)

The items pictured above will definitely be the first things in my new “treasure chest.”

There were also three items that snuck into the burn pile and were rescued at the last minute. For some reason, I unfolded each one of these keepsakes right before I tossed them into the fire. After reading them, I decided I couldn’t let them go:

• A note from my mom. It simply said:

“Dad said this morning that the day you were born goes down as one of the best days of his life...mine too. ILY, Mom.”

– – –

• A letter I wrote to my extended family about the love between my grandparents (I wrote it from the perspective of my grandfather):

Excerpt: “Not everyone can understand exactly what it’s like when my wife, my soul-mate, my best friend takes hold of my hand...”

– – –

• A poem about my high school friends (I promise I wasn’t a HUGE dork growing up):

Excerpt: “A friend will be beside you and do whatever he can...To put a smile on your face and warmth in your heart....A friend does not care if you belch or you fart.”

These three "treasures" exemplified love and gratitude to me – two things I’m convinced have the power to change the world. I wanted to save these mementos to help drive home that point to my son.

They will also find a new home in my “treasure chest.”

– – –

The last thing I burned on Friday night was my infamous high school diploma.

I was really OK with it – and I wasn’t 100 percent sure that I would be. I think it was because of the strong opinions I received either way about putting it in the fire.

Confession: The expired driver’s licenses were harder for me to let go of. I’m not sure if it was because of the photos, the uniqueness of each one OR the fact every single person sitting around the fire said: “I still have one my grandparents’ licenses.”

It forced me to quickly ask myself these questions again: Should I hold on to this and share it with Crash when he's older? Will he care?

Then I smiled and tossed each ID into the fire – one at a time.

As each one melted in front of me, I smiled even more and made a personal vow to myself:

“I will leave plenty of ‘treasures’ for my kids to cherish, but they will be a lot more impactful than a laminated piece of paper with an awkward, deer-in-the-headlights photo on it.”

EDITOR’S NOTE: This is the first of three blog posts revolving around my “Life Bonfire.” For my next post, I’ve asked TK and my friends to share their written perspective from the experience.