The Impossible is Possible

On Saturday a little girl gave me two precious gifts. The first gift was a statement. The second gift was two dollars.

I'm still glowing from both of them.

This story starts at the end of May, when I had an inspiration to do one last firewalk in Austin before the Texas summer heat began to melt everything in its path.  And it ends Saturday night after a young woman walks on fire for her first time.

I love firewalking; it is a catalyst for huge transformation. Whether you walk or not, when you watch someone walk over 1300 degree coals one of the first agreements we all learn: that fire burns; dissolves, and suddenly every agreement you have ever made is more easily changed. Firewalking has been used for thousands of years by people all over the planet to increase energy and focus and to heal both self and community.

There is something so primal about people around a fire, whether that fire is a bonfire or a bed of coals ready to be walked on. There is a deep nourishing that happens when we connect to the element of fire, and when we do this in a group that nourishment is increased ten-fold.

And sometimes this nourishment of connecting to fire and being supported by a group, like we did Saturday night as we cheered and celebrated each person that walked across the coals, sparks a transformation that changes a life.

Towards the end of the evening we invited people to walk across the coals in silence, after saying a word of intent. A young girl, who had walked with a couple of adults the first time, stepped in front of the fire by herself. We all held our breath as she spoke her word to the circle: happiness. And as she walked across the coals she was surrounded by 65 people saying "happiness" back to her.

During the shares after the firewalk she said one of my new favorite statements:

"My grandfather sometimes tells me that not everything is possible. But now I know he is wrong."

And that is the lesson for all of us to digest: the impossible IS possible.

Later I asked for donations, and she walked up to me and handed me two rumpled dollar bills. She was radiating like a little sun, full of joy and wonder. "This is for you," she told me. "I had an amazing time."

I so treasure those two dollar bills, and knowing that she is going to go into the world holding that she can do anything she chooses.

May we all remember that we are so much more than the limits we place on ourselves, and that regardless of what anyone tells you, the impossible IS possible.