Fire informs my zazen sessions and complements my rather haphazard “altar”. In fact, this space will probably replace my Christmas tree this year (sigh).
My plants glow; the water mala bowl glistens; and Baby Buddha is adding another century onto his life since he was turned to bronze in China in the 16th (or 17th?) Century. My favorite rocks take root in a piece of furniture my father made.
Capturing fire apparently made us who were are, as it gave us artificial daylight and thus the ability to be up and about for a good 16 hours/day. We shared our ideas around the campfire, creating both community and technology.
Without fire, our great-ape cousins didn’t get as far, it seems (Smithsonian’s November issue ruminates on this puzzle).
I wish I could read the Chinese prayer on my right-hand candle!