Into the Fire Again

Re-entering the crucible: embracing the cyclical nature of spiritual transformation.

It’s happening again.

That familiar pull. Not upward into light, not forward into purpose, but down. Inward. Into the heat. Into the contraction. Into the raw, structureless place where nothing holds and nothing answers.

You thought you’d already walked through this. That you'd been burned clean. That whatever fire there was to face had long since consumed you.

But here it is again.

Not the illusion of a problem to solve. Not the drama of a seeker with something to gain. Just the slow, tight twist of reality turning its gaze back on you. Asking for more. Without words. Without promises.

This isn’t a crisis. It’s a confrontation.

Not with suffering. Not even with fear. But with that part of you that still holds back. That still wants to be spared. That still hopes to keep some small corner untouched.

The fire knows.

It doesn’t care about your clarity. It doesn’t care what you’ve seen, or said, or shared. It only cares what you’re still hiding. And it burns everything that isn't clean.

So into the fire I go again. Not as someone brave. Not as someone ready. But as someone out of places to run.

Because there’s no edge to truth. And no finish line to fall across. Only this:

The willingness to let what wants to burn—burn. Again. And again. And again.