The Folk Fire
Fire. The breath of life. The start of it all. Without which we would surely perish. Destructive as it can be, fire is also the catalyst for life. Without death there can be no life, without fire there cannot be new growth. This sacred symbol of rebirth and passion is also what brings human beings together. A symbol of survival, love, and community. That is what we focus on within the ritual we call Folk Fire. Community.
Our ancestors gathered around fire, especially in the dark and bitterly cold months of winter, in order to survive. Without the warmth of the flames those frigid nights would surely take them. This necessity made the petty squabbles between families and tribes seem much less important. The time spent together around the fire was an opportunity to connect with each other as well as the gods. Ritual fire has been one of the longest standing traditions across the northern cultures, and as such is still a very popular way to commune in our modern age today.
For the Fellowship, we use the ritual known as Folk Fire to connect with our ancestors as well as with one another. Bonds are forged by sharing stories and vulnerabilities, often times detailing the journey that led us each to the fire which we now surround. Whether that be the life story of ancestors who traveled far to seek out a better life for themselves and their children, or more personal hardships which had been endured individually over the past year and beyond.
Pagans often share a similar story- a shared experience of feeling out of place in our modern society. The urge to retreat into nature, communicate on a deeper level than the superficial ideals of the 21st century, and to connect to gods and spirits long ignored. This feeling of otherness and isolation can be particularly devastating and detrimental to a pagan’s mental wellbeing. Perhaps one of the most powerful moments that can occur at a gathering is when that feeling of total acceptance and lack of judgement is experienced for the first time.
I remember my first gathering like it was yesterday, although it has been more than a full year now. The first Georgia gathering in December of 2020 which celebrated Yule. A fire was built that weekend which burned hotter and higher than any I had witnessed in my life prior, and the love and trust I built with those pagans will forever hold a special place in my heart. That first feeling of home and community will always be sacred to me, and it is one that I endeavor to bring to each new face I meet at these gatherings. The hope of our Fellowship is that traditions such as this will be built over time to reflect the very best aspects of our community, and that the warmth of the Folk Fire will burn brightly for generations to come.
A full cycle of seasons has now been completed since that first Georgia gathering. Time is a fickle thing, and while I can logically recognize that this singular year is perhaps insignificant compared to the 26 I had endured before it, somehow it has become the most important. Through my triumphs and my hardships one thing has remained constant, and that is my enduring love for this family and the gratitude I hold for each of the souls I have met and shared time with. Acceptance, love, and gratitude. Community.
For lonely souls who have only known isolation and judgement the flame of community burns all the brighter. It may take time to ignite, just as logs can be soaked through with rainwater and slow to burn. Trust is built slowly, through the telling of tales and the sharing of cups and good food. Even through physical exertion! Through sparring and boisterous laughter and japes as we heartily whacked one another with practice swords and axes, this past Yule we bonded well. But it wasn’t until the final night when we gathered around the Folk Fire that those bonds were truly forged within the heated flames.
The vulnerability which we offer to one another around that fire is sacred, make no mistake. As our ancestors and the gods watch over us we are gifted with hope and with wisdom also. The knowledge that each of us carries with us a spark more powerful than we could ever imagine. That spark is something to be nourished and well-tended, as it is the pagan spirit within us all which begs to be let loose. At the end of this cycle I implore you all- let your spark grow. Feed it as you would feed the fire to keep you and your family warm over winter. Feed it well, and feed it often. That spark is what makes you special, it is what you have to offer to the world as a testament to your journey and your personal power.
Be the spark. Embrace your fire, embrace all the things which may seem difficult and ugly and insignificant, because I promise you there is value in it all. Do not be afraid to be vulnerable, or to seek connections with those who join you around the Folk Fire. Your ancestors were not afraid of the cold nights because they knew that the community fire would be there to light their way in the dark. I have found so many blessings within the warm flickering flames of our community, and I sincerely hope that one day very soon you will be able to experience the same. Until then, and until the hall where we shall have the biggest, most bright and shining Folk Fire of them all- I wish you all the very best.
Skål.
-Lauren, North Carolina Fellowship Leader
