Since my fire in September, I haven’t been able to walk down the street where it occurred. I’ve taken a few steps, and then I quickly cross the street, averting my gaze and avoiding any chance of looking through that door. To look at the building now, you’d never know that a fire happened there. It’s been reconstructed with new brick, repainted, doors and windows replaced. Everything covered over. For me, that street has a smoky covering, an eerie, uncomfortable feeling. Yesterday, I finally needed to stare it in the face.
I got out of the subway and made the turn I’ve been avoiding for almost 8 months. Since it was the Beltane yesterday, a day that celebrates life in all its glory, it felt like an appropriate time to face fear. It wasn’t as hard as I thought it would be. I didn’t cry. I didn’t really feel anything until I got right up to the building, and saw to my right a giant statue of Ganesha above a psychic reading place. Ganesha is the Hindu deity who removes obstacles to our spiritual development. On occasion, he will place obstacles in our path for us to deal with so that we grow and evolve. He gives us what we need, even when we don’t know exactly what we need at the time.
In that moment, seeing Ganesha juxtaposed to that building where the fire happened, I realized how much I needed that fire. In the three years that I’ve lived in this neighborhood, I’ve passed that statue many times. I just didn’t know who he was until my yoga teacher training. Now, it has a special significance to me. Now, I understand what I’d been seeing all along. I guess life is like that: we look and we look and we look, and then one day, the clarity that has been staring at us all along finally comes in to focus. I wish it didn’t take us so long to really understand what’s in our line of our vision, but then again, if we understood everything on Day 1, what would we have to look forward to? Here’s to seeing more clearly and facing more fears in the days ahead.
The photo above is of the Ganesha statue next to my old apartment building.
Christa Avampato 