Monday, April 27, 2009

Weaving a Life out of Fire and Dance




"Having that connection with the element (of fire), respecting it-and using it to create beauty-that's what I love."  Hallie Seronko is embarking on the less-traditional career of teaching and spinning fire.  "What if I put all my passions and bliss aside to do the normal safe thing to do and I die tomorrow?  Then I haven't really truly lived in my opinion."

As dusk turns to dark, she lights candles around the back yard. Meditative music floats softly through the open windows of the house; friends gather on the deck. She hands a wet towel to a friend with instructions on safety, retrieves the specially designed balls, called poi, from the fuel and pauses for a moment. 

In the dark, one of the poi flares off a candle, passes the flame to the second. She spins the flame gently in the darkness, until the momentum carries the fireballs into comet-trails of arching spirals and woven circles — fire with dance. Dance with fire. 

She says: “I’m here to be alive and live and exist and make every moment as beautiful as I can.  

“So that’s where fire comes in. It just captured my heart and it’s what I want to do and what brings me joy whenever I do it — and that’s a big part of creating beauty in each moment for me.  

“Fire is a really beautiful way of expressing the magic of being alive.” 

The fire spinner is Hallie Seronko. You may have seen her, or someone like her, dancing with unlit poi at concerts or street fairs. Spinning fire is rarer, needs a special, safe place; it’s more challenging —  and more exciting for both performer and audience, drawn as we are like moths to a flame.  

“There is this danger: Touch fire and you will get burned… And so to have five minutes (before the flame goes out) to actually dance with this element — almost unite with it— have a bond with it — is so magical. 

The root of dancing with fire is the ancient art of spinning poi — the word is Maori, meaning ball on a string. Warriors of New Zealand would spin poi to increase strength and coordination for battle. Women kept their hands flexible for weaving.  

The tradition immigrated and evolved; Maori did not light their poi. Today, though, there is a growing culture of fire dancers and poi spinners as artists develop their own styles, choreography and meaning. 

“During the dance, I go really inside and it’s a meditative experience. Actually, I like to use ‘prayerformance’ instead of ‘performance’ because it puts you really present in the moment.” 

The first time Hallie saw fire dancing was when she was 15 years old at a String Cheese festival.  

“I thought it was the most beautiful, inspiring thing, but it never crossed my mind that I would end up doing it and being so passionate about it.”  

After she graduated from high school, Hallie criss-crossed the country with eight friends in a Volkswagen bus. She followed concerts and worked at festivals, practiced poi, met other fire spinners. And decided: Fire was to be her career. 

“For a while I was just pushing the fire thing aside, saying oh, that’s just play; (something else) is what I should be doing…I came to this place where there is no ‘should.’ What do I want to be doing? I want to be doing the fire thing — so that’s what I should do.  

“I realized that doing the fire, creating these experiences and this joy and this magic is just as important as learning to live sustainably and going to college and becoming a doctor. There are so many people in this world and infinite options and if I choose not to do it, somebody else is going to choose to do it.”  

Hallie is 22 years old. While for many of us, our course was charted through parental expectations or college-right-after-high school, or the necessity of a job, Hallie is inventing her own way to this career of fire performance and instruction. 

“The paths are different, but any society creates a path for people. I feel like some of us decide to start bushwhacking instead of staying on the path. I feel like I’m bushwhacking. It’s exhilarating; sometimes it’s scary. But there’s no going back once you start. 

“You can never know what’s going to happen. Even if you try to have a planned course, you never know what’s really going to come — we don’t have that control. We can try, and I do try, but at the same time, why not experiment?  

“For me, I don’t see why everybody shouldn’t be able to follow their bliss and follow their hearts — so I’m experimenting because the only way to know is through your own experience.” 

One might ask about the job security, the 401(k) possibilities and retirement plan. “I don’t have anything to lose right now,” she says. “I’m young.” 

“I’d rather do what I love in each moment and if I keep doing what I love in each moment, I will always be doing what I love, no matter what.  

“I would rather be living my truth doing what I love and not have very much money — than having a lot of money and be doing what I’m not passionate about.  

“For me, my health and spirituality come way before finances. But finances are really useful tools to have. So I’m definitely working on finding that balance between making money and my bliss — or trying to incorporate the two. And that’s the experiment.” 

Article and photography by Katherine Jones of the Idaho Statesman
Friday, August 15, 2008-Main 11