Spanish snail

It’s been a busy few weeks. I have been everywhere and done everything, and now I’ve run out of excuses for not blogging much. Except that I’m still getting myself together again and I have a big pile of books that need blogging… Ho hum.

So anyway – hands up, who’s walked over hot coals?!

It was the most amazing experience. Beforehand, I just kind of decided that since the physics say it is possible and you don’t get burned it is no big deal and therefore to be filed in Stuff To Be Done Soon But Not Quite Yet So No Point Wasting Time Or Space Thinking About It For Now.

When you are there, though, and you see the long, long line of turf ready for the fire to be laid, it’s a bit different. You pace it out. You imagine it on fire. You wonder how you managed to let yourself get talked into it. What you need, apparently, is to raise your energy to match the fire. Mumble, mumble.


I won’t spoil the magic of the training – no funny tricks or hypnosis (although plenty of people thought I was hypnotised). You come out ready and there is the fire and the drums are drumming and something takes over your blood and your body. There is a wildness about you, a lion queen, a fierce mistress, a primal joyous instinctual freedom. You are the goddess. You are the tribe.

Two days later, I am still beaming out positive energy. Wherever I walk, I feel like I am walking on fire, and it feels good.