Playwriting

Playwright Eats Fire

fire-pic-for-blog

This past month I have stood among those with vastly different skills than I. More than that, these performers have skills that require a sense of fearlessness. You can’t be ruled by fear when you’re flipping in the air on the trampoline.

It’s been intensely interesting to see performers so effortlessly do something that scares the pants off me.

Fear is such a funny bird. It grips you by the throat and tells you that you are worthless and completely incapable. So many people avoid so many wonderful aspects of life because of what they fear might happen. Vapour like consequences.

So when the opportunity came up to eat fire this week, I didn’t say no.

It did scare me. Almost as much as trying out the trapeze. Because it’s fire coming at your face. And you’re supposed to put the fire on your tongue. And then close your mouth. Ha ha.

But when else was I ever going to get this chance? There is no fire eating in my world. None. There’s a lot of quiet, a lot of tea, a lot of sitting. I’m not even a fan of spicy food.

fire-pic-2-for-blog

There is nothing like the moment when you’re standing there and the torch is right there and you’re being told – ‘ok, tap the torch (flaming torch) on your tongue.’

Every instinct tells you HELL NO.

And yet, the fear is the worst part.

Taping the flame to the tongue, actually doesn’t hurt.

And closing your mouth around the flame is surprisingly painless.

A couple of people have called me brave for doing this. Which makes me laugh a little, because I know I’m not a brave person. At all. I love my little quiet world in which a pot of tea makes my day. But I do think that fear is not all it’s cracked up to be. Sometimes a flaming torch in the face is not a bad thing.

About the author

Lindsay Price