Cold Iron

When I pondered what I might call my hermitage, it took me less than 10 seconds to come up with the phrase "cold iron" to describe by vocation at rest. My professional hobby for 20 years has been blacksmithing, knife-making, and smelting of iron and steel from raw ore. While the fire arts are powerful and creative, they represent a small fraction of a piece of iron's lifetime. Most of the time it is cold and patiently waiting to be useful.

As I contemplate the metaphor, it strikes me that we are often of similar character. There are experiences which mold us, change us, bend us to the moment's need. We can be hardened or relaxed and ductile, but usually we're not thinking of ourselves as changing. Of course, we are changing, but the process happens slow enough that most people are not aware of it. In much the same way, iron left out will rust and corrode, forming an skin of oxidized material, which will eventually crumble back into dust with enough time.

The bar of iron, like us, can be turned to many uses. Sometimes we need a tool, sometimes a weapon, but usually we build with it. Occasionally it turns into art. This hermitage's purpose is to inspire compassion, kindness, and peace. We do not need to be beaten in the hot forge all day long to accomplish that. We can just sit, and bear witness, support those around us, and shine in the sun as an example of stable and simple peace.