The Fire We Feed
Imagine someone shoots a flaming arrow into your camp. The logical response would be to extinguish it quickly, minimizing damage. But what if, instead, you found yourself gathering wood to feed that unwanted fire? What if you spent hours, days, even weeks, meticulously maintaining the very flame that was meant to harm you?
Sounds absurd, doesn't it? Yet this is exactly what many of us do with emotional injuries.
When someone hurts us – through a thoughtless comment, a betrayal, or an act of disrespect – we often don't address it directly. Instead, we become unofficial caretakers of our own suffering. We gather the wood of "what-ifs" and "should-haves." We fan the flames with imagined confrontations that never leave our minds. We feed the fire with worst-case scenarios and rehearsed defenses against situations that may never occur.
This fire-tending becomes a full-time job. We invest countless hours replaying the incident, analyzing potential responses, and anticipating others' reactions. We walk on eggshells, tiptoeing around the flames we're supposedly trying to avoid. The original injury – that single flaming arrow – has now grown into a bonfire of our own making.
And here's the truly peculiar part: this fire-tending feels oddly comfortable. Like a familiar blanket, we wrap ourselves in the warmth of our practiced suffering. Why? Because familiarity brings a sense of control, however illusory. By replaying scenarios or imagining confrontations, we may feel prepared or even justified in our pain. Yet this false sense of security keeps us tethered to our wounds.
But what if we could pause long enough to notice this pattern? What if we could recognize that while the initial arrow wasn’t our choice, maintaining the fire is?
The emotional energy spent tending these fires is no small matter. Studies show that ruminating on negative events not only reinforces distress but also contributes to anxiety and depression. Repetitive negative thinking activates the brain’s default mode network, making it harder to break free from these patterns.
Suppressing emotions or avoiding conflict adds to this burden. Research into emotional regulation reveals that avoidance and suppression can increase stress responses, leading to exhaustion over time. In contrast, expressing and addressing emotions in constructive ways often results in relief and a greater sense of empowerment.
Mindfulness offers us a pause – a moment to step back and observe our fire-tending habits. In this space, we might ask ourselves:
The path to liberation often begins with small steps in safe spaces. Practice expressing your needs with trusted friends. Start with minor grievances – the equivalent of tiny sparks rather than raging fires. Notice how speaking your truth, while initially uncomfortable, requires far less energy than maintaining a lifetime of silence.
Consider this: you don’t need to be the keeper of every flame shot your way. You have permission to let fires die out. You can choose to pour water on the flames rather than wood. Your time and energy are too precious to spend them tending fires meant to harm you.
Self-Reflection Exercise: Tending Your Inner Fire
Take 5–10 minutes to sit quietly and reflect on the following prompts. Write your answers in a journal if it feels helpful:
This exercise encourages you to identify and begin releasing your own patterns of suffering, one small step at a time.
Meditation: Letting the Fire Die Out
Find a quiet space where you won’t be disturbed. Sit comfortably and close your eyes.
Your camp could be a place of warmth, connection, and growth rather than a smoldering field of old battles. Imagine what you could build – a stronger sense of self, deeper relationships, or simply the peace of mind that comes from letting go.
The next time you find yourself reaching for wood to feed a fire you didn’t start, pause. Remember that you have options. You can speak up, set boundaries, or simply let the flame extinguish itself.
After all, wouldn’t you rather use that energy to build something new than maintain the fires of old wounds?