Fire Festival

[shosen]

Koani takes out a decorated box, and opens it.

These things are symbols, of the person I was.

So much has changed, but I, like too many of us, am still caught up in what I was, what I have lost. I’m in stasis, and remaining like that, it is barely existing.

Koani holds up a small and worn mace.

Of the way I faced the world.

I never fought well. But I remember how solid that mace felt when I took it in my hands the first time. How its weight put it forever apart from hazy memories of pierced skin and pouring blood, from my mother’s lectures on weapons appropriate for a lady.

I’m barely strong enough to hold it anymore. It sinks when I try even a practice swing. Waking here, I reverted to that old weapon without a thought, and for now, it is what I need to carry.

Koani tosses the mace into the fire.

Koani holds up a simple shirt and pair of pants.

Of what I thought I wanted.

I had nothing, when I entered the Cathedral. Even the simple shirt and pants they gave us were welcome. I set them aside as soon as I received something grander, but they rested in this box, because I always expected that I would once again be left with nothing.

Those who expect the worst usually find it. I need to look ahead with at least a small sense of hope. Even if I lose what I have now, I am no longer helpless. I can earn it back on my own.

Koani tosses the clothing into the fire.

Koani holds up a pair of rough boots.

Of where I thought I would be going.

I had no direction. I chose my path on the wind of circumstance and the directions of others. I never cared where it went, and ignored the instincts that told me I would not end up anywhere I wanted to be.

I need to walk with direction. I have no margin for error anymore. Wherever I wind up, I want it to be because I chose that direction with a goal in mind and the belief that I would be happy.

Koani throws the boots into the fire.

Koani holds up a simple, but well mended robe.

Of who I thought I was.

This is the hardest. When I was given this robe, I felt for the first time as though I had a purpose. That running away. working in that bar, losing a year, that none of it had been waste after all. I felt as though I had a place where I belonged.

I have a place now, a real one. I may have found it through questionable choices, but I can work with it, and I can accept it. As long as I give myself permission to.

Koani touches the cloth softly, takes a deep breath, and then throws the robe onto the fire.

I am not that person anymore, and I can never be.

Our pasts shape who we are now. I can never be separate from who I was, but I can’t keep mourning what I have lost.

Koani watches the items burn in the fire.

I need to let them go, so I can look back, and move forward.

I need to be able to face myself, as I was and as I am, and I need to accept them both.

Koani sighs and stands.

I cannot remain trapped by the past any longer.