fire woman


By Sue Adair


“The phoenix must burn to emerge.”
― Janet Fitch, White Oleander

“What does a hot flash feel like?” he asked.

It always starts as a spark in my heart, catching me off guard. It begins to glow, slowly spreading out from my heart and then down into my arms. The intensity increases and it shoots up my neck and into my face.

Sweat begins to drip down my neck and off my shoulder blades. I can almost hear the fire crackling through my bones and I wonder if my wings are finally breaking though my body.

My body is changing its seasons. I am turning from summer to glorious fall ablaze.

I am glowing. Pulsing. My energy vibration is transmuting all the tears I have swallowed over my life. They are crying out of my body instead of my eyes. There is simply not any more space to bury all these tears. They must be released somehow.

I now trust my body’s wisdom.

I don’t turn away from it, thinking that something is wrong. Why would so many women’s bodies do the same thing? How could this be considered unhealthy or unwanted?

Now when a power surge sparks, I glorify in it. It commands my attention. It’s so intense that I must stop whatever I am doing and focus only on this burning away. A new dawn is breaking within my body.

In my previous incarnations as a student, wife, mother and cubicle rat, I so often gave my power away. Sometimes knowingly and other times unknowingly. Never willingly.

Always to keep the peace. Always to fit in.

Each time I acquiesced, my beautiful essence became buried and was replaced by conformity, which grew invasively. One by one, these jagged lies are flushed out, and burned to smoldering embers, leaving only the fire-resistant tendrils of grace and insight.

Often this burning comes to me at night, alone in the dark. Instead of being afraid, I embrace it. I am a glorified fire in the darkness. My body steams in the cool midnight air. I awake glowing surrounded by powerful light-beings.

Every morning, I climb out of my bed of ashes. As I make my bed, I sift through the charred remains of submissiveness that burned away from me in the nighttime.

Yes, I tell myself.


My glorious and powerful essence returns to me.


Sue AdairSue Adair successfully raised her four amazing children in the first half of her life, keeping her sanity working in the corporate world. The second half of her life is blue sky. Sue is a columnist for elephant journal and has been published at Tiny Buddha. Sue enjoys making things with her hands, especially spinning yarn, knitting and cooking. Her blog—uncomplicatedlife—is about letting go of what we no longer need or no longer serves to create space for what brings us happiness.


Photo: Better Love/weheartit

Editor: Dana Gornall