There is a great deal of fire moving through the collective right now. Not only are we in the Year of the Horse (which is fire), but Jupiter is transiting the fire sign of Leo, and Neptune and Saturn are transiting the sign of Aries, the first fire sign of the zodiac. Aries is the beginning—the first spark, the instinct to move, to initiate, to act. Its symbol is the Ram, an animal that meets the world headfirst, horns forward, willing to push through whatever stands in its way.

That image feels powerful. The horns can become a weapon when threatened, but they also help the Ram protect itself, establish its ground, and meet resistance. Aries energy carries that same primal force within us: I am here. I want. I will. I move.

But without awareness, that force can become reaction rather than conscious action. We can lower our heads and charge simply because something is in front of us. Or we can learn to lift our heads, see what is actually before us, and decide where our fire is worthy of being directed.

Adding more fire to this moment, Jupiter expands whatever it touches, and in Leo, it amplifies the fire of the heart—your creativity, self-expression, courage, joy, and desire to live more fully. It invites you to take up more space in your own life, but it can also magnify what is already burning.

And that is what I want to speak to you about. It is part of what this collective activation is asking of us—not to extinguish the instinctual fire within us, but to become deeply conscious of where we are pointing it.

I feel it in my own life, and I witness it in the lives of the people around me and with those I sit with. For some, the fire has gone quiet. There is a longing to feel something again—to rediscover passion, desire, creativity, purpose, sexuality, courage, or the simple feeling of being fully alive. That fire needs tending. It needs breath. It needs permission. It needs space to become a flame again.

For others, the fire is already burning, but it has become difficult to contain. It may show itself as anger, rage, irritability, anxiety, fear, urgency, reactivity, or the feeling that everything inside is moving too quickly. That fire does not need more fuel; it needs relationship. And if you are willing, the invitation is to learn how to be in relationship with your own fire.

Fire is life force. It is the energy that allows us to move, create, protect, choose, speak, desire, and transform. Fire is not inherently destructive. Without fire, there is no warmth, illumination, and there is no transformation.

But fire requires tending. Too little and it dies. Too much and it consumes. The spiritual work is not to extinguish your fire. It is to learn how to channel it.

The Fire in the Body

This fire is connected to the nervous system. When we feel anger, rage, or fear, our nervous system is activated.

Urgency, defensiveness, control, impatience, and the need to do something right now are signals that the body has moved into a state of activation before the conscious mind has even understood what is happening.

This is where awareness becomes part of the medicine you need to work with the fire you are experiencing. But you first have to recognize that you are in it.

• You begin to notice the heat.

• The tightening.

• The racing thoughts.

• The shortened breath.

• The impulse to react, defend, attack, fix, flee, control, or make something happen.

• Instead of immediately obeying that impulse, learn to stay.

• Pause, and breathe.

One of the simplest practices I return to is slowing the breath to approximately a four- or five-second inhale followed by a four- or five-second exhale.

Again. And again.

Not because the breath makes the circumstances disappear, but because it gives the body another message: you do not have to react to the fire. In this practice, you begin creating more space between activation and action. Each time you do this, you teach and re-map your nervous system.

As Above, So Below

We can also see the fire playing itself out collectively, through conflict, division, hatred, anger, or war. People are entrenched in positions and battling one another.

It is easy to look outward and see what we each perceive as “wrong.” But the deeper spiritual practice is to become willing to look within.

• Where is there a war happening inside of me?

• What am I battling and fighting against?

• Where am I trying to overpower life?

• Where am I consumed by fear?

• Where has anger been burning without being listened to?

• Where have I extinguished my own desires?

As above, so below. The collective is not separate from us. What we witness outside of ourselves is an invitation to examine the places within ourselves where the same energies live. Not so that we blame ourselves for what is happening in the world, but so that we take responsibility for the consciousness we bring into it.

What Does Your Fire Need?

That is the question for this moment!

Not: How do I get rid of this fire?

But:

What does my fire need from me?

• Does it need to be rekindled?

• Does it need expression?

• Does it need movement?

• Does it need boundaries?

• Does it need somewhere creative to go?

• Does it need rest?

• Does it simply need me to sit beside it long enough to understand what it has been trying to tell me?

Because beneath anger there may be grief.

Beneath fear there may be a longing for safety.

Beneath restlessness there may be unlived desire.

This is not a time to fear your fire. It is a time to become intimate with it. To know when to feed it and when to stop adding fuel. To know when to move and when to become still. And to know when our fire is illuminating the way forward and when it has become so large that we can no longer see clearly.

Fire is not an enemy; it is an ally. The invitation is to become the keeper of the flame and tend it consciously. To allow it to warm you, illuminate you, transform you, and return you to the aliveness that lives within you. Because that aliveness is the fire. It is the life force that moves through your body to fully participate in your life. It is the part of you that still wants to feel, create, love, move, experience, and become.

Tending your fire is ultimately about tending your relationship with life itself—learning to carry the fullness of your own life force without extinguishing it or letting it consume you.

Fire is not asking to be put out. It is asking to be lived.

Aho.