The Return of the Fire Horse

Bill Dandie
Dec 31, 2025
2 min read

There are moments in life when you realize that nothing was wasted.

Not the years of meditation.

Not the fasting.

Not the countless hours of research, reading between lines, following clues hidden throughout the ages.

Not even the pain.

All of it has brought me here—to the threshold of the Year of the Fire Horse.

I was born on April 20, 1966, under the Fire Horse. And for much of my life, that is exactly who I was.

In business, in relationships, in love and ambition—I carried passion and purpose in abundance. But fire, when untamed, burns indiscriminately. I singed the ones closest to me. Employees, friends, lovers—many fell away, not because the intent wasn’t pure, but because the heat was too intense.

Over time, I learned to tame the fire horse.

What was once a raging blaze became something smaller, safer—what I jokingly came to call a “sparkle pony.” Functional. Contained. Acceptable. The world prefers that version of fire.

But something essential was missing.

Awakening the Fire Again

On August 13, 2023, I set a clear intention for my second—and final—ayahuasca ceremony:

Awaken the Fire Horse.

And it did.

Not as chaos.

Not as destruction.

But as memory.

I brought that fire back with me—to Ketchum—and from there, everything began to align. The land. The work. The reflections. The stillness. The knowing.

Since then, the discoveries have been many.

I faced aging parents and the unresolved weight of childhood trauma.

I quit drinking.

I stepped back from fear—especially fear around money, survival, and attachment.

I loosened my grip on what I thought I needed to control.

What remained was clarity.

February 17, 2026

There is a date that continues to resonate deeply within me: February 17, 2026.

The Fire Horse returns.

Yes, I will be 60 years old. But this is not an ending—it is a completion of a cycle. A return, not to the wild fire of youth, but to a mature flame: disciplined, purposeful, and creative.

The fire is back now.

And it is saddled.

It moves with a beautiful energy—the horse no longer fighting the rider, and the rider no longer suppressing the horse. This feels like alignment in its truest sense.

I know, without bravado and without doubt, that 2026 will be a year of Creation.

Not creation born of force, but of coherence.

Not ambition driven by fear, but purpose rooted in truth.

Not fire that consumes, but fire that builds.