I have always wanted to walk on fire. When I was young I saw a picture in an encyclopaedia of a firewalker and it ignited an intrigue and passion within me.
Feeling the wall of heat from the flames burning in front of me was a reminder of what I set out to do. I would walk over these burning embers to help other mums searching in the dark for a hand to hold, to help them through their suffering.
There is a moment, just before you step onto hot coals, where the whole world seems to hold its breath. The guiding arm in front of you falls away, and there is nothing stopping you, the path ahead is clear. And although it’s just a small step forward, it feels like a vast black void of impossibility.
That evening, lying in bed, I knew I needed to go to sleep but I just couldn’t switch off. I started to realise that I hadn’t felt this excitement about anything for a while either. Something was telling me I needed to go for it. I knew that this challenge was something I had to do. I turned over to my partner, Jeff, and said: “I think I want to do the fire walk.” I had no idea what his reaction would be.
It all seemed like a good idea at the time. A firewalk to raise money for our school. What I didn’t know at the time was just how far and deep I would have to reach inside to achieve it.