I saw one of my Signal Fires quoted in a book (with my permission, but I’d forgotten) I like it, so I’m sharing it again. 

Which leads me to say that, having been urged by several readers and for several years, I have agreed to go though the past issues of Signal Fire, choose ones I like, and arrange them by topic. Thus having them easily accessible in one place, such as a book. I’ve barely begun that project, but I’m already finding some Signal Fires I like a lot. I will probably share those with you again. Which isn’t saying that I won’t publish new Signal Fires, but we’ll see. 

You can help me! If there are issues of Signal Fire that particularly speak to you, please let me know. Thanks.

Here is this one from the past.

I stalk beliefs. I lurk around the corners of my mind, listening to what I think and to what I say, ready to pounce on a belief when it appears. When I catch one, I investigate it. Becoming as open and undefended as I can, I try the belief on. What is its purpose? How does it feel in/on my body?

Their purpose, it seems to me, is to make me feel safe, to make me feel less bewildered about life. But the feeling of beliefs is almost always something like being encased in cotton batting, sticky cotton batting. They inhibit my breath, they cling to my skin, they make me feel energetically murky.

Safety takes up space that could be occupied by glory, by wonder, by awe, by curiosity. Glory, wonder, awe, joy, endless possibility — they feel spacious, airy, bright. There is no contest — they feel way better than sticky cotton batting.

So I stalk beliefs. I lurk and I pounce. And when I catch one, I celebrate. Because then I can freely choose whether to keep it or release it.