When we’re young and comfort surrounds us, it seems everything will last forever. There’s no sense of wondering the people and places amidst which we belong. There’s no regret our innate hope and optimism can’t transcend.

When we grow up we do begin to wonder, and regret. And the inclination to move quickly arises. To just burn through any experience that proves less than perfect, so that maybe the next one can be perfect, maybe we’ll want to stay in the next one forever.

There’s satisfaction in the burn, in thinking we’re active participants in bringing ourselves closer to ease and joy. And further if we’re the ones to start the fire, everything we lose is our decision, right? The places we no longer go, the faces we no longer see everyday, well we’re the ones who decided upon that, so it should be… fine.

But to reverse the traditional saying, where there’s fire there’s smoke. There comes a point, fairly quickly, where we can’t see clearly anymore. Just like a wildfire in the Rockies. What started as a good thing, a way for nature to regain balance, becomes larger than itself. Suddenly we can’t see the sun and stars anymore. Even the stable sight of the mountains we came to rely on is lost. Now we don’t even remember where this fire started, or why. All we know is the amount of oxygen we’ve exerted to keep it going.

So perhaps I’ve come to feel best about the fires I didn’t start. To believe that the energy it takes to create a fire against others could be better used creating one for ourselves.

Because we can change our minds. People can surprise us. And in every occasion we can realize how great our capacity for compassion is.

Moment of Gratitude: If we choose compassion then the fire doesn’t burn others, it warms us.