I Lost Every Thing in the Fire

The First Time My Home Caught Fire

One of my homes growing up was directly across the street from my Granny's house, which was super convenient for my mom because, on days when she had to work, she could just wake my brother and me up, get us ready, and have us walk across the street before she left. This also meant that I never had to worry about leaving one of my favorite toys at home by accident because I could always just walk back across the street to retrieve it.

One day, while at my Granny's house across the street, my brother and I were outside playing when we looked over and noticed that the blinds on the front windows of our house were drooping, as if they were melting. We told our grandmother, and she walked across the street, opened the screen door to our house, touched the doorknob on the front door, and noticed it was extremely hot. She turned around to call 911—ironically, where my mother worked—to get the fire department to come and see if our fears were correct. Within minutes, the police arrived, and the first officer on the scene kicked in the front door, where a billow of smoke met him and began pouring out of the opening he'd just created.

Soon after, the fire department arrived, and our house was surrounded by the lights of police cars and a fire truck, as well as by neighbors standing outside, trying to figure out what was going on. Eventually, my mother arrived, having left work early, and as soon as she did, she broke down sobbing at the sight of her house filled with smoke—a house she had worked so hard to afford, to move my brother and me out of the projects about a year prior. Even though I was small, I could tell her heart was also broken by the reality of losing the bulk of her possessions—either lost in the blaze or covered in ash and soot, never to be quite the same again.

It turns out the fire was caused by a faulty electrical circuit behind the washing machine. Because we noticed the fire when we did, things weren’t nearly as bad as they could have been. The walls of this particular house were made of concrete, which was inconvenient in the summer because they were prone to sweating, but in this situation, it was a saving grace, as our house didn’t burn down. Though we lost many things, we didn’t lose everything. And though it hurt my mother deeply to lose so much of what she had worked so hard for, she was ultimately grateful that we weren’t home when the house caught fire. In time, we replaced what was lost and began anew.

The Second Time My Home Caught Fire

About 20 years later, I had another experience of my home catching fire—except this time, the fire was more proverbial than literal. Ironically, this proverbial fire destroyed my possessions far more thoroughly than any literal fire ever could. It was sparked by the existential crisis I faced upon hearing the news of my mother’s seemingly imminent death. This fire began with a stroke of grace that fell upon me while I was in a closet, pleading with 'whatever gods may be' for relief from the suffering caused by living in constant fear and anxiety over my mother’s future.

This fire was a slow burn. It started around December of 2014 and did not reach its peak until my 29th birthday, July 20th, 2019. During that period I underwent a transformation that was often extremely painful and extremely frightening but also extremely enlightening and extremely transformative. This fire consumed me and changed my life forever. It completely destroyed the 'Micheal' I once was, and from its ashes, the 'Micheal' I was destined to become was born.

This fire not only destroyed my home, it also destroyed my world. It destroyed so many illusions that I held dear to my heart. It destroyed relationships. It destroyed hopes and dreams. It destroyed a specific vision for my future that I'd been clinging to for so long. Though I often wished for it to end, though I often wished for myself to end, though I often wished that this fire never started, when it finished burning, I discovered something that I did not expect. I discovered that what this fire burned was not who I am but instead it was who I am not and that what remained was the truest, clearest, most accurate version of myself that I could be — pure spirit, unnamed, undefined, unblemished, unborn, and undying.

This fire revealed to me that the physical world is entirely superficial, unreal, and devoid of any true substance, and that clinging to this imaginary world in any way would only lead to more suffering. It showed me that, in order to be free, I needed to let go of every form—including the form that held my mother’s spirit and the form that holds my own.

I don’t think of myself as much of a poet, but every now and then, poetry flows through me, yearning to be expressed. What follows is a poem about my spiritual awakening, born from a fire that helped me realize my true home is not within four physical walls, surrounded by fleeting, material things. Instead, my home is a spiritual "place"—a permanent refuge within my own soul.

I Lost Every Thing in the Fire
by: Micheal Sinclair

On one of my soul's darkest nights
devoid of love and light, alike
I awoke to the most frightening sight
of a fire engulfing
my home

Afraid that I woke up too late
I searched, but I found no escape
just me, the flames
some time and space
to face my fate
alone

Images of my family and friends
blistered, and charred, and curled at the ends
the money I'd earned
couldn't pay for my sins
so I paid with
flesh instead

I wept and I moaned
and I gnashed my teeth
I fell to my knees in dis-belief
I wanted so badly to fall back asleep
and not meet
death ahead

I lost every thing I knew in that fire

Every thing I desired
Every thing I despised
Every thing I admired
Every thing I disguised

Every thing that I'd stolen
Every thing that I'd bought
Every thing I believed
Every thing I was taught

I lost every thing I'd ever loved—
or at least,
that's what I thought

But when the flames finally
ran out of fuel,
I realized that I could see clearer

I looked around
expecting to meet my maker
but instead,
I met a mirror

And in taking account
of what I'd lost while that
lake of fire turned

I saw that despite the pain
of losing every thing
Somehow I,
remained,
unburned

What's Going On With Me?

Everything we experience, we experience relatively. A few months ago, I would have never gone outside for a bike ride in 50 degree weather because it would have been too cold. Today, the high in Pittsburgh is 54 degrees and I was so excited to get out for a bike ride today because, since it's been in the low 20s for the past couple of weeks, 50 degrees no longer feels too cold. Instead, it's become a brief respite from what is my new 'too cold'.

Similarly, typically speaking, most people are against murder. But as we've seen lately, even murder can be enjoyable under the right circumstances. What I'm referring to is the recent event of the United Healthcare CEO being murdered to the overall resounding support of the general population. I'm not really one to delight in anyone's demise but I find it extremely telling that there's a general lack of remorse for this man's death—and it makes me wonder if all the money he made denying others a chance to live was worth it in the end?

What profit a man to gain the world but lose his soul? Absolutely nothing because, as spiritual awakening leads us to discover, the physical world is absolutely nothing. And so, in my opinion, it's not at all worth striving to step on others in order to build a castle that is ultimately made out of sand and will inevitably be washed away by the waves of time. Instead, perhaps our time here is much better served trying to help one another evolve, by getting to know ourselves beyond our physical forms, by trying to discover who we truly are and what is the true purpose of this experience.

This year my writing has been more reflective of my human experience and I think it was important to express those things because before we can go beyond, we much develop a deep understanding of where we are and how we got where we are. I think a major reason why so many stop progressing spiritually is because they want to bypass the pain that comes with reconciling with the wounds of the past but as my teacher says "you can't leave a mess behind— it will pull you back". That being said, I feel like next year my writing will be more focused around spirituality and philosophy and I'm looking forward to diving into those deep waters with you if you're interested in exploring them with me.

With love,

Micheal Sinclair 💜