I woke this morning to the most precious sound ever: rain.
I rolled over and looked out my bedroom window into the reserve, and all the trees were glistening green and humming with joy.
I felt like crying.
For months, it’s only been brown trees and grass, and smoky air and burning and stinging eyes, throats, lungs. Everything completely parched, totally thirsty.
But the heavens had parted and blessed us with a downpour … I lay there and basked in this delicious lush of wet and green.
You’ve probably heard about Australia’s national bushfire crisis. Bushfires are a yearly occurrence here. When I was a kid, it happened most years (I thought it was awesome, no school for a couple of days). But this year it’s been of an epic magnitude.
Our hot, barren, coastal climate is the perfect coalescence for bushfires. They spread, wiping out miles and miles of land, animals and wildlife, townships, homes, and sometimes even, people. It’s terrifying and cruel.
We lost our family house and pets (a dog, two cats) to fire in 2000. It wasn’t because of a bush fire—but I know the terror and devastating loss of that.
Actually, just this week I’ve been revisiting this time in my life.
I’m currently editing my book, From Dark to Light. I’ve just sold the rights to a major publishing house. (So excited about this. Will be sharing the details very soon 😊.)
In chapter 9, I write about how fire swept through my life in 2000. I didn’t only lose my family home and beloved animals, I broke up with my boyfriend. My parent’s marriage ended. Both my grandparents died. I got really sick with a gastric ulcer (stomach fire). I almost had a mental breakdown. It was one of those years.
Last year I had one of those years again. Fire came back into my life, and took me out. This time it was fire in my brain (a neurological condition called vestibular migraines and epilepsy) and it burned me so bad I almost didn’t make it.
My neurological condition is much more under control, but now I have fire all around me, literally.
Australia is burning up, and the sky is hazy pink and smoky red most days (the sunsets are spectacular but feel apocalyptic).
Fire, everywhere. Fire.
Fire is a powerful change agent.
It’s actually the most powerful change agents of all the elements. Its job is to clear away anything that’s old to let in the new. It scorches, rages, wipes out, extinguishes … until you are left with only the bare bones so you can rebuild.
I’m not saying the bushfire crisis in Australia isn’t about climate change. I’m convinced it is.
But we do have a choice in how we handle the element of fire and its massive transformation, when it enters our life.
When I look back, the fire that roared through my life in 2000, paved the way for me to become a medical intuitive and spiritual coach and teacher.
Because of it I embraced my psychic abilities and talents.
The fire that roared through my life last year—and is still roaring all around me—is paving the way for something higher, bolder, more beautiful.
I know life can be shitty, unfair, and at times, downright horrible, but I still believe we have a choice how we view what happens to us.
And more importantly: we have a choice what to do with what happens to us.
Are you going to turn your suffering into art? Your pain into beauty? Your gunk into gold?
Are you going to use it to reach out, heal, help, serve?
I sure am.
with love,
Belinda
P.S. If you dig poetry, here’s something I wrote some time back about fire. And here’s a poem I wrote last week about the bushfires.
P.P.S. Here’s a video of Oprah interviewing Lady Gaga about how massive tragedy made Gaga one of the most powerful women on the planet today.
