By Qualia Reed
Don’t Rush
In my journey, I often return to the analogy of caring for a campfire. Having grown up in the 80s and 90s, I remember the Smokey the Bear ad campaign and its message about preventing forest fires. As I got older, it continually surprised me how often people didn’t put their fires out properly. Didn’t they listen to Smokey the Bear for all those years?
What about the metaphorical campfires in life? I sat with dedication to ensure that all real fires were extinguished, but I raced from one relationship to the next, or raced away from loss without taking the time to process or grieve life’s changes. What I came to realize over time was that many of us do that. Life is chaotic and stressful, and we tend to rush from point A to point B as fast as we can to conserve energy or spare ourselves suffering.
It’s as if the coals are still hot and smoking as we make it to our next site and begin building a new fire. In that rush of modern life, we’re already overworked and overstressed. The idea of setting aside time and space for maintenance and closure can feel like adding another sack of bricks to our already overloaded backpack. It’s natural to want to reduce the effort and think the fire is out and no further energy is required, even when we leave the coals burning.
This can be complicated if, like me, you are a neurodiverse person or have life experiences that have made multiple campfires feel like normal. For me, my normal was to be someone constantly juggling multiple fires at once, and when that became normal, the idea of one thing at a time felt boring, dull, or even painful at times. This continued for me for many years until a life event happened that forced me to take a long pause in much of my life. Reflecting on my life, I drew the connection that emotionally, I was doing the same thing. I was rushing forward to the next thing, leaving those coals still glowing in my past. In doing this, it risked overlapping and making things more difficult by having to balance focusing on the new fire while simultaneously checking over my shoulder to see what the last thing was.
Many of us leap from one relationship to the next and inevitably draw in aspects of our previous relationship because that fire is still cooling in the distance. When that other fire is still burning, we may find we are often comparing this situation to the last one, and we risk bringing the pain of the last relationship into the new one. Sometimes we meet someone and fall in love with them, even while we are still with someone else or just getting out of a big relationship. This doesn’t mean that this new relationship won’t work; it simply means we may now have to balance building this new campfire with attention and dedication while also healing and making sure we spend time fully putting out the last fire. Having multiple fires at various stages can increase the risk of feeling overwhelmed and make it more difficult to move forward with authenticity and a clear mind because of the things that keep drawing us to the past.
We All Want To Get Away From Pain
When we leave a relationship, or a job, or if we are experiencing loss or pain, there can be a strong drive to move forward as fast as possible. I see this is a very human drive. Much of Western society is geared towards the almost subconscious idea that pain is something we should never want to feel, and so we can be stuck in a pattern of avoiding pain at all costs.
“There is a great deal of pain in life and perhaps the only pain that can be avoided is the pain that comes from trying to avoid pain.” ― R.D. Laing
Staying in the moment and giving ourselves time to properly put out the fire, or to heal, can sometimes mean acknowledging that the pain we feel sucks, and that it’s okay to feel that way because pain is part of life. We can check in with ourselves on an ongoing basis, acknowledge our thoughts and feelings, reconnect with ourselves, center ourselves in our physical bodies, and then engage with the tasks we are doing, the people in our lives, or ourselves.
It is also human to realize that checking in with ourselves and giving ourselves time and patience is not always enough to get the job done. I think it’s also important to remember that it becomes much harder to put out a fire without the right tools and support. I want to ensure I’ve got my bucket, access to a water source, and a shovel or stick to stir up the coals. With mental health, we also want to ensure we have the right tools and supports that we need to help us heal and make changes in life.
Spending time with friends or family, being in nature, engaging in creative self-expression, such as writing or art, and talking with a professional, such as a counsellor, can all be useful supports in these situations. When thinking about support, I often use nonviolent communication to engage with myself by asking: What experience am I having? What feelings is this bringing up?
Do I need anything, and if so, what? How do I ask for it? Sometimes we need to talk with a trusted friend and go for a walk, sometimes we need to take a break from our job, and sometimes we need to speak with a counsellor.
Freedom from the past
With a neurodiverse brain, when we take the time and are supported in doing so, we can fully put out the fire before moving on. In my journey, I began asking myself: What would it be like to pause and heal before moving on, so that when I did, I could commit myself fully to whatever comes next, rather than having multiple fires going at once. As with life, the journey of healing is about balancing. The past is a destination that we can never return to, and the future doesn’t exist at all. If we only have the present, then our actions inform our present reality. Through practice, we can take the time to find the tools we need to put out one fire with the care and respect it deserves before moving on to the next one, as a whole, undivided, and authentic self
By Qualia Reed