You're a Furnace

When Times Are Tough, Find Your Light.

This morning I arose to a cold house. It was 48 degrees in the warmest part of the living room. How cold is that? Well, I'll put it this way. I woke up to the sound of my dog drinking out of the toilet, strike that, cracking through a layer of ice to drink from the toilet.

That is something not everyone can claim they've experienced. And as awful as that may sound to some of you, know I could have avoided it. It was a choice.

The farmhouse has two wood stoves, one in the back mudroom near the plumbing and one in the living room. Had I stoked both the fires and got up earlier it could have been a lot more comfortable than this, but since the temperature wasn't dropping below zero outside I chose to put my energy towards sleep instead of comfort.

And sleep I did. I got a solid eight hours under wool and sheepskins, Gibson the border collie curled under the covers against my chest. Together we were our own kindled fire, warm as could be inside our little nest.

I was smiling in the dark. I lifted back the heavy covers and watched the steam rise off my bare skin and swirl in the air around my curvy body. I laughed in absolute joy, because I'm not sure what could be more proof positive that I am alive and well? Fire always win the battle over ice and I am a goddamned furnace.

Now, I wanted to share what happened next because I think it may bring some of you out of a place of worry or despair and into one of joy and power.

I knew I had the farm chores waiting for me out in the biting air, had hunting to do in the icy forest, a list of deadlines, bills, worries, and obligations. I knew I was still behind on the mortgage, over my head in so many ways. I no longer wake up to a world of financial or physical comforts by any stretch. I could be the kind of person that stays in bed, lets worries about money consume them, let the easy heat of the undercover realm keep them prisoner, and give up…

Or, I could get up, let my skin steam and start a fire.

I headed over the the wood stove, naked and crouching, like something out of National Geographic about primal woman's first invention of fire. I looked into the stove and saw all I needed to see. The thing that changed my outlook on the entire day: hot coals.

When I opened the tightly-sealed wood stove the first flash of fresh oxygen lifted those coals from embers to sparks. A red orange glow lit up my face in the darkness. A light I created through a lineage of choices, from installing the stove years ago, to harvesting firewood over the summer, to stoking the fire last night, to opening it this morning to let that warmth hit me in the cold dark.

Next to the stove was a hatchet, some light pine, and paper. I had all the tools I needed to start a real fire, how about that? Someone was looking out for me, after all.

I chopped into some cordwood and within moments I had kindling. I placed it in a teepee shape around the red coals. It smoked a little and then erupted in flames. I had a proper fire. I added slightly larger pieces of dry wood around that little triangle and a small dance of atoms later, there was a true stove blaster. Guys, fire was there all along, I just needed to bring it into being with the right tools, preparation and knowledge.

I got dressed, made coffee, let the dogs out, and started my day. Shortly after, the animals were fed and the farm was humming. I already started a new logo project for a reader's farm and handed over a new comp sheet of logos to a college for their draft horse club. This was work I was trained to do and helps bring income to this farm. It's an act of creation, of skill, of light just like fire.

I avoided Facebook, Paypal, Reddit, Twitter... the whole damn internet. I didn't want someone else's picture of their 10-point buck or engagement ring or new kitchen counters starting my day with any sense of lacking. Not because other people's joy makes me sad, but because it's hard for anyone to see such things and not start the day feeling she needs to be something besides the naked, laughing, perfectly Rubenesque farm goddess she already is.

Nothing puts out an inner fire like self doubt. So I just did my work in this morning storm of creativity. See, when I was naked and cold in the dark all I saw was a hint of possibility: a red coal. But I knew with every piece of my being that dry wood, a little effort, and a hatchet would be the perfect combination of intention to bring out flames.

As I placed kindling, no part of me doubted that the fire would come. It's simply what happens next, a proven fact. I knew within ten minutes I would be sipping hot coffee in a wool sweater. And no part of me doubted that fire would bring heat, and inspiration, and that washing wave of blessing for living this life on my own terms. It's a Wednesday morning and I am about to spend a weekday writing on my own farm. That was a fairytale through most of my twenties until I realized I was a furnace.

You are a furnace, too.

Here's what I want to share today: don't focus on what you lack. Don't start your day with other people's accomplishments. Start your day knowing you are capable of making the life you desire. You need to see your own story as a pile of embers that needs a little focus and patience to explode into something wonderful. I live my life that way, everyday. And when I am scared or anxious or worried; I remember the certainty in which fire comes from hope and force.

As long as I am able to hold the coals of this metaphor close to my heart I can achieve anything. It requires homing in on the good of yourself, the good of others, and the bounty of this kind world. And it also means moving yourself out of a sense of victimhood and lack and into one of power, a gift you can only give yourself.

But once you start playing with fire, it's hard not to feel like anything is possible. The proof is here at this small farm and hundreds of others out there among you fine folks.

You never have to worry about me. This farm will always be okay and only grow to be stronger, healthier, wiser and better equipped to help others find the same happiness if they want it. And I think the best thing I can do to make my fire burn a little brighter is remind you that you also have a hot coal in there somewhere.

So choose to be happy, and know it is a choice. Smile when you are cold, naked, and scared. Light the Need Fire of your own story, and share that heat with the rest of us.

We sure as hell need it when the toilet bowl freezes.

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This post was originally written December 2014, making it a decade old. I wanted to share this because I wrote it during the hardest, darkest, time in my life. Those years right after quitting my stable job, but before coming out, were the most emotionally confusing, terrifying, and lost years I ever lived. And all I had to encourage me in the morning that things would be okay was a few bright coals and a warm dog walking back to my bed in the dark with toilet ice on his muzzle.

The old blogs are gone now. I did it in the hope that I can somehow, someway, make a living writing again. I am trying to encourage people to upgrade to paying members if they can afford it without personal hindrance. I hope to see you in the comments.

This is a working class writer’s story. And I share it honestly, openly, and often. It’s romantic and hard and cringe and soft. It’s me. Please consider upgrading.