Friction Fire is a Time Machine
I’ve found a practice that warps time and connects future and past in the eternal now. It is a method of birthing fire you may have read about in a cub scout manual, or seen in a movie once upon a time.
Some know this method as the bow-drill, others know a similar, but far more difficult method, the hand-drill. Still others know better the old “flint and steel” method, which in movies usually involves someone striking a stone with a piece of metal. In all cases, the actual experience of bringing forth fire in these ways invokes a feeling of the sacred, of transcendence, of the holy. For in all cases the one who endeavors to bring forth fire in this way always makes a nest out of dried grasses, flammable tree bark and other tinder materials and it is into this womb-like place that the living, smoldering coal is placed and breathed into flame. One who births fire in this way must become father and mother and child.
Learning the craft
But before one has a coal one must first learn the craft, the making of the kit, its constant tuning needed, its proper components (types of wood and their proportions etc.) and the proper attitude and technique. Most importantly it is a technology that asks for humility and gratitude, for an emptiness of ego and a sincere, selfless effort. One must become a friend with failure if one is to birth fire in the palm of one’s hand.
The spinning of a wooden drill pressed firmly down into a wooden hearth board creates friction, heat and the intense grinding of wood on wood creates wood particles that begin to accumulate in a pie shaped wedge in the hearth board. As the speed of the spindle increases and the downward pressure builds, dust gets very hot and then smoke begins to swirl around the spindle like a tornado. This swirling vortex of smoke has an intoxicating aroma when one uses white cedar, my favorite tree for bow drilling. It is a smell both earthy and spicy, grounding and warm.
The spinning drill begins to puncture a hole in space/time. Only the act of spinning the spindle of pressing it down, of holding all the components together exists. Like Atlas holding the world, or Brahma holding all existence in its consciousness, I use all of my body, mind and spirit to become unified in this rite. I am the portal through which the element of fire is born. And for the process to be pure, I can’t be there. No attachment to outcome. Everything has to come together.
Exhausted and trembling I cease my spinning and check the notch that holds the super heated wood dust with baited breath…is there true smoke? I look for the ribbon rising out of the dust? I check the color of the dust, is it black as night? Only black dust makes coals. Is the smoke rising strong and steady from a living coal or is it only the smoking surface of the hearth board? Have I birthed a living fire or have I failed?
Life, eternity, all hope hangs by a thread in this moment…for the fire is hope.
Fire is life and warmth and light and comfort. It is ancient electricity, the element that conquers the night, that conquers fear and loneliness and death.
When I see the true smoke rising steady from the coal I know I can relax, catch my breath and give thanks. The coal is alive, it has wood dust to consume, I have time and I can be present with this new life.
This is the time of gentleness and nurturance.
Now I hold my tinder nest and ever so gently transfer my smoldering coal into the nest where it will be loved and protected. In my tinder bundle the baby coal grows, its heat increases. Held within my hands, gently squeezed, the living coal of burning dust meets grass and birch bark. Small tendrils of aromatic smoke begin to ride into the heavens. As I breathe into the nest the smoke begins to bellow and pour from my palms until the heat rises to a crescendo and bursts into flame. The coal and the nest are transformed into light and movement, heat and color.
In that moment, I touch the eternal now, the rainbow bridge that connects ancestors and progeny. In that eternal moment, the spirit of my ancestors are with me, all of life is with me; stars, wind, root and stone, flowing waters and rustling leaves. The bow and hand drill method is a time machine. When I learn to birth fire in this way I open a signal to eternity and humble greatness.
