On the Urge to Light the Match
And what the fire is trying to tell us.
It's a feeling.
A quiet hum at first, then a roar.
The fantasy of burning it all down.
Of walking away from the carefully constructed life, the career, the project.
This is not a confession.
It is a thought experiment.
An observation of a deeply human, and often deeply unsettling, urge.
It’s not an impulse born of failure. Often, it visits when things are going well. When the view from the top is clear.
So what is it?
What is that part of us that wants to light the match?
Perhaps it’s a revolt. A rebellion from a part of you that feels your current life no longer fits.
A cry for a more authentic self.
Perhaps it is a strange defence.
A fear of the height you’ve achieved, and the pre-emptive choice to jump before you can be pushed.
Or perhaps it is simply profound boredom.
The mastery you worked so hard for has become a comfortable cage, and you feel an animal need to break out.
Maybe it is just a clear, raw signal of burnout. An exhaustion so deep that the only solution seems to be obliteration.
I don’t think we are meant to suppress this urge.
It is a messenger.
And the message is never just "destroy."
The message is a question.
What need is not being met here?
The need for rest? For play? For meaning? For control?
Instead of reaching for the matches, what if we just sat with the messenger for a while? What if we listened to what it was really asking for?
The urge to burn it all down does not have to end in ash.
Sometimes, the heat is just a signal.
A signal that we need to build a window.
And let in some air.