The Burning

I had an amazing experience. I remember that experience. And I still fall short of the ultimate goal of exhilaration, peace, and okay-ness at any time. Brief glimpses of not okay-ness sneak in. So last night my two good friends, Lindsey and Jackie, came with me for a symbolic burning of the spaghetti box my spoon chimes came in on my birthday. Somewhat fitting that it was on his birthday. We took our ipods, the box and a lighter, and Jackie's car, and headed out to the parking lot for our night of revelry.

Lindsey looking appropriately angry.

Jackie's car also showing awesome angry squiggles.

The darn box wouldn't ignite, so we had to bring in extra kindling in the form of newspaper. I guess you could say the many attempts were also symbolic of my several attempts to cut this out of my life.

Success!!

And it was gone. We switched from angry music to liberated music. Freedom. Then we just listened to any old music, as loud as we could, and danced around heartily for half an hour. Circling, twirling, grooving, jumping, leaping, I felt like a little kid and it was great! Thank you friends. Thank you burning, purging, freeing.