Following in the footsteps of my father, Sir Nicholas Winton, whose remarkable acts of saving children in danger have become a part of history, I’ve inherited not just his legacy but also a profound fascination for fire. This elemental force, so mesmerising and powerful, was something my father enjoyed, whether it was a cosy blaze in the hearth or a grand bonfire made from a pile of broken branches. This passion, though seemingly simple next to his heroic deeds, offered a glimpse into his soul and has deeply influenced my life.
Nestled in the heart of New Ditton, our home, was a wild area with a small wood, a natural canvas that my father looked after with the care of an enthusiastic tree surgeon. Here in the wilderness, he became transported as he chopped, cut and pulled the remnants of the broken limbs of the trees into piles to set them on fire. His Sundays were often spent in the orchard, emerging only when called for lunch, his appearance was evidence of his morning’s adventures. These moments showed his joy in simple things and his dedication to the pursuit of trying to tame nature.
There is in our family history, a lovely photograph of my father at the grand age of 105, seated in contemplation as he watched a towering conflagration made from the branches brought down by a storm. The flames, as tall as our family home yet contained within the walls of our then derelict swimming pool, were a striking image of his former dynamism, energy and spirit.
This same attraction to fire has been passed down to me, instilling in me a similar passion. It became more than a mere curiosity – by chance it developed into a profound lesson in life that touched the very core of my being.
In a retreat where the participants were given the opportunity to explore their self-imposed limits there was the opportunity to walk on fire. It may sound almost trivial to some, yet for me it became a rite of passage and a catalyst for transformation.
Picture a bonfire made from thick, long logs too heavy to lift, its flames racing skyward in a dynamic display of flickering light and darkness. The fire roaring with a life of its own, a symphony of crackles and hisses with sparks flying up into the sky, it is full of power and raw energy. As the boughs burn, they slowly give way and disintegrate and form a hill of glowing embers. They become a heap of redness with heat so fierce it is impossible to stand close. Now, from this inferno, imagine that the red-hot cinders are spread out to form a runway—a glowing ribbon of fire, a ribbon of fire that calls to the brave to travel along its fiery path.
To walk on this bed of coals, to feel the searing heat yet emerge unscathed, is to challenge the very limits of my beliefs of what is possible. it is a vivid illustration of the boundaries I impose upon myself, and maybe that you do too. These self-limiting beliefs hold us back from achieving the impossible – because I know that it is not possible to walk on fire.
My father taught me many things, but perhaps the most enduring lesson is his belief that the impossible may, in fact, be within our reach. His motto which encouraged him to keep trying in his challenges: “If something is not fundamentally impossible, then there must be a way of doing it”. To carry this as a legacy is to believe in the potential for greatness within each one of us. It is to recognise that the barriers we face are often of our own making. It is a message of hope, of courage, and of the boundless possibilities that lie waiting for those of us who dare to challenge the limits of our imagination.
Reflecting on our shared captivation with fire, I see it as a symbol of my father’s lasting impact, reminding me that his legacy is not just in the celebrated deeds that define his life, but in the everyday moments of passion, dedication, and belief in the boundless potential of the human spirit.
What steps will you take, knowing that achieving the impossible might just be within reach?
© Nick Winton 2024