The modern fire dancer waits before her performance: breathing deeply, centering her mind, grounding her body. She is costumed simply, in cotton and leather. Tribal makeup covers the skin that peeks through her clothing. Her dreadlocked hair, wrapped in a cotton scarf, piled high on her head. A pair of poi-balls made of wicking, attached to the ends of arm-length chains, hang from her hands by leather straps. The poi-balls have been soaked in white gas and rapidly spun to remove any excess fuel. The dancer languidly swings her poi back and forth and waits for her turn on stage. She dreams of the fire she’s about to play with. Each time it’s different, she thinks. The fire has a life of its own.

Finally, she is ready. Her Safety, armed with a fireproof
blanket, clicks a lighter. Flaming heat and
light instantly rush upward from the poi, and
the fire dancer is alive. Spinning the poi around
her body and over her head, she surrounds herself
with the magical force of a living element.

Across the stage, her fellow performers dance
with fire in other ways: one spins a staff with
flaming ends, tossing it high into the air and
catching it behind his back; another moves
with a pair of flaming fans. These are modern
toys, she marvels, but they’re based on ancient
weapons. We are a new breed, creating a new
dance, a new ritual. The element is as old as the
earth, but the way we utilize it is as modern as
the techno music we dance to.

But she can no longer hear the music. The sound
of the rushing flames drowns out the pounding
techno beats, allowing the dancer to fully
immerse herself in the moment. Her mind is
quiet, but her body responds on a cellular level,
conjuring images and memories of lifetimes
past, when she danced around a primeval fire
with her tribe. She watches the fire as it surrounds
her, feeling its force as both protector
and destroyer. This fundamental component of
life kept her family warm at night and cooked
food for her community; this essential element
of war killed enemies and destroyed their villages.
She fully understands the power of the
fire. She bows her head in respect. This element
allows her to play, but it demands complete
awareness of her body, of her surroundings …
of this eternal moment.

With every movement, the fire creates a pattern
that can never be duplicated. With every toss of
the staff or dip of the fans, the flames reverberate
throughout history, calling upon our ancestors
to bring hope to the future. By moving in
this moment, the dancer frees her body; by manipulating
the fire, she frees her soul.

The fears that arise when she plays with fire are
both practical and primal. She is afraid to get
burned again, to feel hurt; afraid to be vulnerable
and powerless. As she dances, the fears
rise and she confronts them head-on—spinning
the wicks at her side, close to her body, in
front of her face. She shoos away the fear with
each swish of the poi, with each sensual drop
of her wrist and powerful extension of her arm.
The fears are real, but they are soon silenced by
thrill, by exhilaration … by bliss.

The staff dancer is now behind her. He wraps
his arms around her waist and passes the
flaming staff back and forth across her body.
She holds her poi high above her head, acutely
aware of the other dancer’s presence: his body,
his strength, his own control over the fire. In
front of her, the fan dancer drops to her knees,
swaying in time to the motions and rhythms
of the other two dancers. The three lock
energy and move as one. Time stalls. The
force of this creation swells and pulses. They
are of one mind, of one consciousness … of
one beating heart. Flames blanket the dancers
in warmth and protection. The fire frees their
single soul, birthing peace and compassion.
Wordlessly, dancers and witnesses understand
that in the magic of the moment, all were baptized
by the fire.
Slowly the flames fade; once shocking yellow
and orange, now streaks of blue and violet.
Hypnotic trails of light beam against the black,
star-studded sky. Dropping to her knees, the
fire dancer spins her poi hard, one last time.
The flames disappear into the night.

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For more information, visit:
www.homeofpoi.com • www.fire-dancing.com