FIRE APPRENTICE
Before 65, cold was just weather.
Now I know better.
This morning it was 3°C, and the cars outside had white ice on their roofs. That is not scenery. That is instruction.
The world speaks through small conditions.
Cold. Breath. Foot. Fire. Timing.
So I listened.
I got my feet sorted as soon as I rose from bed. Supportive shoes on. Gas lit. Kitchen opened up. Pups’ breakfast sorted. Our breakfast things laid out. Kettle on. Then in to wake Pete and the pups.
The day began as a small ritual.
Wood stove lit in the snug. Light breakfast eaten. Breathwork done. Gas fire lit in my office. Coffee in hand. Room slowly warming around me.
No heroics. No pretending. No standing around like some noble frozen idiot waiting for the body to complain.
I did not always know how to live this way.
For most of my life, cold did not mean much. I could push through it, ignore it, shrug it off.
But the body changes, and if I am paying attention, I change with it.
That is not defeat.
That is apprenticeship.
The body teaches. The weather teaches. The morning teaches.
Cold is a real force now.
And I have learned something of fire.
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