Beautiful things that are not for you.
This is a story about how and why I set myself on fire. You are welcome. Let’s start from the beginning.
I was on my way to visit a friend. Ahead awaited an evening of storytelling in the company of creative people from County Mayo, lots of cool conversations, a few craniosacral therapy sessions in my friend’s living room, and who knows what else. Even though I felt like I might rather wear pants, I decided that my green Gudrun Sjöden designer dress was the right choice. It’s my favorite dress. With one small footnote: this particular color has never quite matched my skin, eyes, or whatever else (my aura? my personality?). One of the downsides of online shopping—you can’t try on clothes before buying them. But still—favorite designer, favorite dress. So, on it went.
A few hours later, I was standing in my friend’s kitchen, talking actively and animatedly about the next day's plans, when suddenly, I glanced down and… my dress was on fire!!!
You see, it was quite cold at my friend’s place (old Irish farmhouses with no insulation), so I had been standing cozily close to the gas heater. Except, I thought it was a radiator—when in reality, a living flame was burning at its core. That living flame had found my several-hundred-euro green Gudrun Sjöden dress and was now flickering up my legs like a tiger freed from its cage, racing towards my heart.
In utter shock, all I could think somewhere in the back of my mind was, “Where can I get sand to smother this???” (I was one meter away from a water tap), and all I could say was, “Oh my god! Oh my god!” Naturally, I also started jumping up and down in panic, which only fanned the flames.
My friend didn’t immediately understand what was going on or why I had suddenly started dancing so enthusiastically. But then she noticed—and grabbed the oversized cup of peppermint tea she had just made for me a minute ago and poured it all over me, likely saving my small, precious life.
Her first thought after pouring the tea? “Oh my god, I made such a mess with this tea!” Here’s a lesson: in a crisis, people don’t think logically—or they don’t think at all. But we survived, we laughed a lot, and we even dried the floor. Well, she dried it—I was still clearly in shock.
And when I had changed out of my now slightly burned green dress and peppermint-tea-soaked tights back into pants, it was finally time to sit down, drink a fresh cup of tea, and think, WTF?!
Some people who know me, know that for the past three years, I’ve been working through different nuances of a breakup (because in life, you have to try everything—ha!). And on this full moon night (yes, Friday night had a big yellow full moon—because when else would a witch self-combust?!), I had just unraveled yet another layer of myself and that relationship. I sat at the table and realized that I need to fully let go of beautiful things that aren’t quite meant for me and don’t match my eye color. Even if they are expensive, from my favorite designer, and something I once chose for myself. And I need to let go of beautiful people and relationships in my life that aren’t 100% for me. I have to allow them to burn because, you know what? I remained untouched by the fire. I walked out of the flames without a single burn. Because when our outer image, identity, or life—things that are beautiful but no longer ours or meant for us—burns away, we remain whole within it. Let it go! And I am wildly blessed because I always seem to have a friend nearby with a big cup of peppermint tea, ready to pull me out of the fire and laugh and laugh and laugh.
An hour later, I was sitting in a tiny Irish farmhouse with 15 Irish people, singing an ode to Mother Earth in Estonian in honor of Mother Language Day (yes, they all sang along). I read a spot-on poem by Chelan Harkin and a hauntingly accurate description of my status quo and upcoming life phase from a deck of MUSA art tarot cards.
In the Middle Ages, witches were burned, but in Ireland, allegedly, only four witches were ever executed because the Irish blamed mischievous deeds not on witches but on fairies. This Friday, 600 years later, in the depths of County Mayo, Ireland’s fifth witch burned. And today, I feel unbelievably free.
Hi! I’m IIDALA aka Ida Materasu, and I’m a professional therapist, writer, spiritual mentor, mother, woman, and human being, who has walked the path of healing for more than 20 years. I facilitate breathwork and nondual healing groups, offer courses, subscription programs, and silent nature walks as well as receive clients one-on-one live and via zoom. I’m based in North-West Ireland, but work internationally. To book a session or get more info on NONDUAL courses or programs, feel free to explore the website or contact me directly.