Flames

On the cusp of the new millennium, I made a dear friend who shared with me the many rituals she uses in her personal life and art process. She told me that when she was a child, she occasionally found solace from a large chaotic family by attending services at the local Catholic Church. Her family was not religious, so she went on her own. She customized some of the practices learned there to create her own rituals.

If I understand her correctly, she prays or makes a request and lights a candle as a way to signify the hope or desire and to make it manifest in as an element. Shortly after she showed this to me, I began to do it too.

I've kept on top of a chest of drawers a candle that I acquired on a visit to Notre Dame cathedral in Paris. It was a religious votive candle with the Virgin Mary printed on it. Usually these candles come in glass jars, but this one seems to be made of plastic. I've lit the candle many times over the past couple of years, but didn't allow it to burn longer than an hour or two.

Last night I prayed and lit this candle. A half our later, it burst into flames.

When it caught on fire, I was about ten feet away in an adjoining room. From the corner of my eye I noticed a very subtle increase in light intensity, but it quickly faded so I figured it was a flicker. For some reason, I was compelled to get up and check on the candle.

I'm glad I did because a portion of the table top was on fire. The fire was about the size of my hand and I tried to blow it out. But the fire was spreading too fast and wouldn't be extinguished this way.

I ran to the other end of my apartment to retrieve a cup of baking soda by my stove. As I poured it on the flames, they got higher. I realized I had never actually used baking soda to put out a fire and started to doubt it worked. Just as I was about to panic, the flames died out suddenly.

I'm not sure what happened to the candle, but it appears to have exploded. There was wax sprayed like a mist around the area where the candle had been. The cup was gone. Only a small pool of wax and the bottom tray of the container remained.

The furniture is badly damaged. There is a small circle of wood intact where the candle sat, but a five inch ring of charred wood surrounds it. This is a fine piece of furniture, and I would be upset about its condition if I wasn't so grateful that the fire didn't escalate.

This incident rattled me. The fire was nearly out of control. It could have caused a lot of damage to me and others in my building. My circumstances, which are not good, could have gotten much worse.

Although I am not a Santeria follower, I made inquiries with friends who are. A combusting candle is a strange phenomenon. I wondered whether it would be regarded as a good or bad omen.

My friends interpreted the event positively. One said the candle was lit to deflect negativity so abundance could flow in. She thought the explosion indicated that the candle was doing this job powerfully, and that it was a lesson that I need to expect positive change rather than negativity.

That sounds about right.

Shifting Prayers

Spirituality is a concept I grapple with. I wasn't raised within a religious household, so superstition is about as close as I come to following a religion or acknowledging some kind of force in the universe.

I tend to be superstitious (don't step on cracks), yet I know that superstition isn't likely to work (most mother backs are unbroken).

I consider performing the superstitious acts (blowing out the birthday candles and making a wish) a method to be more thoughtful or to help put aside concerns temporarily.

I suspect that all of the things that are too complex to know (the future, why are we here) are just lumped together in spirituality. People pray for things to happen because often there are too many variables out of their control. Even billionaires lose elections from time to time.

Years ago, I had spiritual friends who chastised me for not praying. They argued that I needed to say aloud what I wanted to happen.

The process of praying made sense to me, if only as a means of articulating desires clearly. By naming a desired future event, perhaps I would formulate a better plan for achieving it.

That said, instead of articulating a Utopian vision, I usually pray by asking for the tools I need to handle the struggle of life: strength, resolve, and love.

As I requested these things once again last night, I wondered whether my requests had invited the tests I have endured this year.

It is unlikely that the requests in my prayers matter, but perhaps I should pray for something else. Perhaps I should reformulate my prayers into more positive visions of the future. Just in case it does matter.

Sympathetic Magic

While recuperating I read Joan Didion's "The Year of Magical Thinking." It led me to consider how much I engage in magical thinking. It was surprising to discover I did so many times each day.

As a kid I would attempt to foresee the future by setting up scenarios such as: If I see a blue car on the way home, Mom won't be angry with me for forgetting my permission slip.

I'm ashamed to admit that as an adult I continue these searches for signs of affirmation. For example, if he sends me a text or email within 24 hours, it means he likes me.

Much of this behavior is so ingrained, it has continued without examination. I avoid certain clothes because I associate them with bad experiences. For example, I will probably send to Goodwill the sweater I wore on the day I was laid-off. It is an old sweater I hadn't worn in a couple of years. Yet, I happened to have worn it on that day because it was snowing. Now it is forever tainted.

It's unclear even to myself whether I really believe the sweater is bad luck or whether there is a longer chain of variables that lead me to avoid it from now on. Its strong association with an awful event will significantly diminishes my confidence each time I wear it. When I wear it, it will conjure up a very unpleasant event that is likely to make me glum. That lack of confidence and glum demeanor will have some repercussion, and it will not likely be positive.

I've tried on several occasions to read a classic early anthropology text that outlines many rituals, "The Golden Bough." So far, I have not made it past the first 40 pages. Although I haven't opened the book in at least five years, I recall with clarity a couple of ideas presented in it. There are similarities among rituals; one being the charm of association (i.e. love potions made of the sexual organs of animals).

It appears that I am continuing this tradition by designating items associated with very good events as good and items associated with very bad events as bad.

A while ago I heard a radio program in which a psychologist said the root of superstition was a lack of control over one's environment. His comment made me think about all of the things I do almost daily in an attempt to attract good luck: blow away eyelashes and make a wish or light candles and pray.

I am an intelligent person who understands that these rituals probably have no impact. In spite of my intelligence and talents, I have not enjoyed the income or credentials that would insulate me from the whims of the New York housing or job markets.

I can only interpret my emphasis on superstition as a reflection of my own sense of powerlessness.

It's strange that it has taken such a long time for me to come to this realization. Perhaps I am not as intelligent as I imagine myself to be! Or maybe I have been too distracted by other pursuits to pay attention to this behavior and thinking.

I equate money with power generally. It is ironic that my strong desire to make money has emerged at the very time the worldwide economy has collapsed.

On the one hand, I wonder whether I am overly concerned about the events that impact my life. Am I too sensitive? On the other hand, it is widely recognized that having to move or getting laid-off is a traumatic event.

It is unlikely that the emergence of these situations will wane no matter what ritual I follow to ward them off. There is little I can do to prevent these events from happening. I need to learn how to improve my reaction to them.