The phoenix is one of the oldest stories we have.
A bird that lives for centuries, builds its own pyre, and burns.
Completely.
And from the ash, a new creature rises — not in spite of the fire, but because of it.
The Greeks believed the bird that emerged was more radiant than the one before.
We love this story. We reference it constantly.
And we almost never believe it when it’s happening to us.
Something happens. It’s heartbreaking, or terrifying, or slightly alarming, or just deeply disappointing.
We’re surprised. We start running the analysis:
How can I make sure this never happens again?
What went wrong?
Was it me? Was it my upbringing?
Did I cause this or deserve it somehow?
Maybe we decide it went the way it did because of something we did wrong. Some old mistake. Some failure of character. Some pattern we can’t break.
The thing that happened becomes evidence.
Evidence that we’re doing life wrong, or we can’t trust ourselves. Evidence that this always happens, or that something about us or our life needs to be fixed.
But what if we didn’t have the story that whatever happened then means something bad?
Life is complex and full and wild. Who knows what happens and why it happens?
You don’t always get to choose what burns down.
But you can question what you believe the fire means.
You can look at the conclusions you’ve drawn about yourself, other people, what happened, and what’s possible from here.
I don’t mean this as a platitude. I mean it as an actual practice.
One worth sitting with, without answering too quickly.
That’s a lot of what we practice inside Year of Inquiry.
Year of Inquiry begins next week.
Orientation Week starts September 8 and 10. Inquiry sessions begin September 15 and 17.
This is ten months of sustained practice. Not a paint-by-numbers strategy — each person who comes is their own unique self, living a life that’s precious and particular and just for them.
What we do together:
We identify the core beliefs running within — some of them you may not even know you’re operating from.
We question these beliefs, not so you forget or suppress or pretend, but so you can really see what is reality and where your blind spots are.
We practice facilitating with each other, learning to meet people where they are with an open mind.
We dissolve shame by sharing our thinking out loud and discovering we’re human, and it’s OK.
And most of all — we wake up to reality, so we can get out of the addiction to believing-every-thought-that-appears.
We’re not pretending to be spiritual. We’re not looking for the “right” answer.
We’re looking at what’s true.
And sometimes what’s true is that the thing you were certain meant everything was ruined doesn’t mean that. At all.
Pay in full or split into 10 monthly payments starting on whatever date you register. You have until December 7th to decide if it’s right for you. If cost is a barrier, there’s a scholarship application link on the YOI page.
[Learn more about Year of Inquiry → HERE]
And since we’re talking about fire and what comes after:
As one of my favorite musicians Trombone Shorty sings: What It Takes.
Put on the song. Dance today.
You’re welcome.
P.S. The October 29–November 1 Grief Retreat (The Work + Grief Ritual) has 6 spots remaining. Use code EBIRD before September 9th for the early bird rate. This is a standalone in-person event in Seattle — some Year of Inquiry participants also attend, but it’s open to everyone.
[October Retreat details → HERE]
Much love,
Grace