My friend Mike recently retired from being a policeman. He is also a fireman, so there were a number of friends from the fire hall at his retirement gathering.
Mike was destined to be a public servant. As kids, he was always at the fire hall and sometimes brought me along to help him clean the fire trucks. He’s always been a hard worker and a selfless guy. He always wanted to be a part of the mix and help others and wasn’t afraid to get his hands dirty. Between the police force and working as a fireman, he’s seen things I can’t even imagine. He was also sent to aid in rescue attempts and cleanup efforts at the Twin Towers during 911.
Mike told me, “You never know what you’re walking into on a call. Your mask is foggy, it’s hotter than hell, and flames all around you, so you feel like you’ve entered hell; it can be claustrophobic, you never know what repellents people have in their houses and how that may add to the mix and blow unexpected gasses at you, things are falling on you, floors crash due to heat and you never know when you may encounter a dead body – you never know when it’s your time.” It’s a no-nonsense battle of will, but firefighters still walk into danger.
I am curious about people who put their lives on the line for others and asked his fellow fireman a few questions about his work. Mike’s friend talked about it like the consummate professional as I asked him what prepared him mentally for taking on death like that? He shrugged and said, “There’s no time to think about your mortality. You focus on what you need to do.” You are present to the circumstances and have trained your whole life to meet danger where you see it.
I put myself in his position and it makes sense. An active imagination can inspire menacing thoughts and take you on a ride you don’t want to take. You need to mindfully conquer what’s before you, one situation at a time.
Still, I think how would I respond in that situation? Would I hold up all right? Would it be the undoing of me? How could I move forward after witnessing the gravest of sights? Would the lessons I’ve learned through my spiritual discipline provide for me to overcome the trauma I’ve faced?
Trauma comes with the job, and although a firefighter may have been told this in schooling, he may not have realized to the extent of how deep the trauma could touch him. I certainly don’t want to test it, but the ultimate test of faith is to face the fire as that fire is presented to you.
Metaphorically speaking, we all are facing certain fires that could lead to bigger blazes. It may come in the form of a death, a battle with an illness, a loss of job, or loss of home, a debilitating form of ill treatment or bullying, or a financial concern. Every person has his own life and death dilemma to meet; the spark of a fire that has consumed the mind with worry and ill-timed propositions he needs to conquer.
There is always a point of reckoning where we determine that we need to face the thing we fear the most, so it does not have control over us and put out the fire of uncertainty.
In Greek literature, a phoenix built its own funeral pyre only to be consumed by what it has created. Like the phoenix, we, too, are consumed by decisions we’ve made with little or no thought, but we are faced with a stinging reality that we must move on and forgive ourselves. Hopefully, we rise like a phoenix from the ashes to overcome the darkest of days and find that glimmering light of hope in the darkness fully knowing that our experience has changed us in meaningful ways.
The humanity I’ve witnessed in firefighters is powerful. There is no greater bond than those who have lived in the trenches of danger consistently, faced life on life’s terms, and come out of it together as a unit. Those who’ve gone to war know this reality all too well. Community has its place and, no doubt, the act of processing insanity with another person in a reasonable way is one of the few ways to rise above. We are reminded that we are not alone.
It’s no mistake that the “Maltese Cross” that firefighters wear is from hundreds of years ago. During the Crusades, The Knights of St. John battled an enemy known as the Saracens. The weapon of choice that caused excruciating pain to those fighting against the Saracens was fire.
Although the symbol elicits a battle between two religions, the central image of conquering fire is the intended takeaway. Those who wear the symbol are willing to sacrifice themselves for their fellow humans. Sound familiar?
When we’ve walked through a fire, we have been transfigured in some way. With every harrowing realization comes new life and rebirth in understanding. When we have interpreted the poetry of this meaning, we’ve arrived at a significant transformation. Sacred scriptures teach us this.
In the end, the sacrifices we make in the name of helping to put out the fires we see is what matters. How we conquer the battle for life and involve others in the process demonstrates that we are battling the flames with faith and determination. The little disciplines we have acquired throughout our lives make the difference. Knowing that you have a community that has your back. Knowing you have conquered and put out everyday fires through tenacious mindfulness, spiritual discipline and a faithful spirit can go a long way.
Every battle with a spark of uncertainty, teaches us what we need to know in facing the bigger blazes of where certain death “to self” looms large.
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