For hundreds of years, Indigenous people have carried out selective burning of forest lands, a practice informed by a close relationship with and deep knowledge of the ecosystems. These fires renew a forest; they provide nutrients that enrich the soil and promote new plant growth including that of medicinal plants, they provide forage for animals, they control the spread of pests and diseases affecting plants, they increase biodiversity and they raise the water table.
Beyond these physical benefits, intentional fires are restorative on many levels. In the Western part of the country for example, this history is well documented; under the supportive stewardship of indigenous people, the land now known as California was brimming with life, a mixture of shrubland, grassland, and meadows teeming with native plants and wildflowers.
Starting in the mid-1800s, local and federal governments outlawed these practices, obstructing tribal relationships with the land, and irrevocably disrupting a balance that indigenous people had tended for generations. Fire suppression has damaged ecosystems tragically. Today the US Forest Service carries out controlled burns, but without the intricate cultural knowledge and practices of indigenous land stewards, the positive effects of these burns are limited.
It is important to pay attention to these histories and their continued unfolding, as there is much we can learn. The lessons we gather can inform both the ways we care for our environments and the ways we care for ourselves. In The Element Theory, the macrocosm and the microcosm are inextricably related.
Summer is the time of Fire. In spring, we celebrate Wood, the color green. The earth has woken up and so have we. Plants have risen from the depths and painted the landscape. We, in our own way, have appreciated their miraculous rebirth and joined in with our own revival. In summer this young energy matures, and we can enjoy the first fruits of our spring planting. Signs of summer surround us. On my neighborhood walks I see baby bunnies venturing out on their own. At the farmers’ market, flame-colored peaches sit like small suns, filled with juice that is medicine.
Fire is vital to life. Inside of us, small fire powers our digestive system. The Small Intestine relies on this fire to assimilate nutrients from the food we eat. The Triple Heater uses the fire to keep our body at a temperature ideal for life, our hands and feet warm but not sweaty, and our heads cool enough to think clearly. When fire is out of balance, all sorts of symptoms can arise.
Too much fire in the Heart can cause anxiety and disturbed sleep, in the head and chest inflammation in the sinuses or dryness in the lungs, lower in the body symptoms such as burning urination, diarrhea or constipation can arise. Conversely, too little fire and the feet and hands can become cold and numb, the digestion sluggish, and breathing impeded. As always, balance is everything.
Fire is also present in our ability to give and receive love and feel joy. The Fire element is present when we come into ourselves when we become fully realized. When we accept and actualize our true selves, exchanging love and delight can feel easy, we know our value and we know the importance of others. In this way, summer can also be a time to practice boundaries and reflect on the ways we love. How can we use our fire to warm others, to fill them with a sense of respect and compassion, to love without burning? What has taken root inside of us that asks for release? What might we want to set alight within ourselves so we may grow from the ashes with greater health and stability? If delight feels out of reach, how can the sun show us how to revel again? Can fire reignite a flame of joy where we’ve grown cold?
In the Yurok and Karuk tribes, traditional baby baskets are made from the stems of hazelnut shrubs. In order to collect these stems, the shrubs must be burned. This practice demonstrates the fluid relationship between creation and destruction, and how they are beautifully entangled. A bush is burned and then collected, someone weaves the shorn stems into a basket, and a baby sleeps safely within this vessel, within this timeless process.
Fire transforms! And it empowers growth. This season may we embrace the spirit of fire, may we find the strength to let it change us, and the grace to let it reveal what new seeds it sows.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR:
Casper Valentine is a Shiatsu practitioner based in Tucson, Arizona. After graduating from college with a degree in psychology, personal development led him to desire education in bodywork. He attended massage school and after trying out several forms post-graduation, he found his way to the Five Lights Center of Shiatsu and began to study Shiatsu. In Shiatsu, Casper has found a form that both grounds and inspires him. Additionally, he is trained as an acudetox specialist through NADA. He enjoys practicing Aikido and QiGong, crocheting, and making rugs.
As the Student Liaison for the Five Lights Center, he is excited to support both new and continuing students as they learn Shiatsu. If you have any questions about our courses, you are always welcome to reach out to him at admin@fivelightscenter.com.
Strength to allow change and grace to accept it. This is simultaneously hard and important. To grow familiarity can fall away. This may invite new stressors. It requires strength to stay the course and allow growth to occur. This is a struggle for me but I continue to balance effort in this quest.