walking through the fire
nevada: being refined, shedding identities, and wandering through the mojave desert
there’s something addictive about running away, especially when it includes otherwordly places with surreal views, you can sign me up any day. so when i was asked to join jelani on a work trip in vegas, i wasn’t excited for the gambling or the shopping (okay, maybe a little), but mostly for the chance to visit a quiet corner of the mojave desert.
about 50 miles away from harry reid international airport (las vegas’s primary airport) and the las vegas strip you’ll find the valley of fire state park. with steady traffic and a smooth 5 to 10 over the speed limit, it’ll take you about an hour to get from sin city to desert land with little to no electricity and cell service.
located in southeastern nevada, the valley of fire is miles and miles of seemingly hand-painted red sandstone waves, rock walls, and canyons. the earth is a beautiful thing, and witnessing this ancient wonder up close definitely solidifies my belief that the southwest is the most outrageously beautiful region of the united states.
the moment you enter the park you’ll wonder how places this unreal exist on the same planet where you’re stressed about timelines and worried about credit scores. like… be for real. we are really just tiny beings living on a big spinning rock.
if you’re not looking for strenuous activities, you could come here and just drive around. you’ll be in awe of the sights regardless. but we chose to get out and walk the various mapped-out trails.
bundled in a jacket i wish was a little heavier and some comfy asics (not pictured: the light-colored shoes that got dusty immediately), we wandered the park for about 4 hours on. a breezy november day. a quick google search will tell you october to april are the best months to visit. outside of those months it can be too hot to bear. but learn from me: during this season, don’t think you’re too good to wear/pack more layers.
Isaiah 43:2
“When you walk through the fire, you will not be burned.”
this year brought some heat. i know i’m not the only one who had nights of tears, overthinking, and i filled more journal pages than any other year prior. but this year felt different. i could feel the fire doing it’s “proper” job. as fire is supposed to do, it constantly refined me.
visiting the valley of fire reminded me of the metaphor to walk through the fire. it also made me think about joseph campbell’s hero’s journey. this is the concept that the hero in every story has to face hardship, doubt, and trails to become who they’re meant to be. in every version of the story, the trials always come before the rebirth. that space, the in-between, is the part where you walk through the fire, when life gets so hot it’s meant to either transform you or crumble you.
there were so many moments this year where i could’ve folded. my inner thoughts were loud, mocking, asking if chasing a life as beautiful as the one in my dreams was even worth it. that’s the valley of fire. it’s the moments that test whether you shrink or step forward. somehow, i stepped.
the fire is meant to refine you. the hardships might leave burns, but they’re here to test you. in the hero’s journey, the character has to release who they were to become who they’re meant to be. the fire represents that same thing. it’s the burning away of ego, fear, old stories, and identities that no longer fit. and in true social media fashion, sometimes that shedding looks like a late night rebrand with pinterest boards and canva templates. like glass or metal, we don’t go through the fire to stay the same, we’re meant to come out of this refined and reshaped. so, let it burn.
at this big age, i finally understand that life has many moments where you’ll be asked to or thrown straight into the fire.
don’t be afraid.
the fire is meant to be walked through, survived, and risen from.
when we make it through one valley of fire, we can look back and realize that the flames are proof. they are proof that you can stand in the hardest season of your life and still rise. proof that you can face what should’ve taken you out. proof that you can endure when you cross the threshold and step out as a new version of yourself.
i’m writing this note before stepping into the fire again. something bigger, different, and not yet revealed has been calling me forward. it’s asking me to move differently, to show up differently. the only way forward is through the fire. and i’m ready to allow it to shape a brand new me.
if you’re in the same place, i hope these thoughts make the fire feel a little less scary now that you know what it’s trying to shape.
xoxo,
tyshaia
