Burn The Boats

There may come a moment when you have to set fire to everything you know.

Not literally.

But structurally.

From the inside out.

When you must burn the boats

and never go back.

Not everyone is meant to awaken at once.

If they did, the world would rupture under the weight of so much collapsing at once.

Awakenings must be paced

so that what remains is stable. Lasting. Real.

Because when the fire comes,

it does not ask what you want to keep.

It only leaves behind what is true.

Your past.

Your patterns.

Your marriage.

Your roles.

Your identity.

All of it is fuel if it wasn't rooted in coherence.

You do not get to negotiate with the fire.

You only get to decide when you're ready to let it start.

And when you are-

you stop waiting.

You stop managing.

You stop pretending the unraveling is optional.

You say

"I'm ready,"

and in that moment, everything false begins to fall away.

Not slowly.

Not politely.

Immediately.

And maybe it doesn't leave your life physically-

not yet.

But it leaves your structure.

And once that happens,

it cannot survive in your field much longer.

This path is not for everyone. Because the fire doesn't just take what you don't want.

It may also take what you think you want.

What you think you need.

Because not everything can come with you.

You cannot obtain the new by dragging the old behind you.

You cannot live aligned while still gripping what comfort gave you.

And yes, it will hurt.

It will hurt you.

It will hurt others.

But if the fire comes from clarity- not reaction or avoidance-

if it is lit with compassion and respect,

not abandonment or lack of empathy-

then it can lead to something better than you ever imagined.

But how you leave matters.

How you close the door defines what remains behind you.

This is not a reckless burn.

This is not emotional arson.

This must be done with precision.

With care.

With intention.

With the kind of honesty that leaves no smoke behind.

And you will need resolve.

You will need to emotionally regulate yourself.

You will need to hold your vision steady and not waiver.

There will be moments when you collapse.

When your fear of hurting others becomes louder than your fear of losing yourself.

You'll want to go back.

To soften.

To wait.

You will need to keep moving anyway.

Because certainty is not a gift of the present.

It is the reward of walking anyway.

The present asks that you stay inside it,

without knowing what's next.

Without knowing who will still be there.

And yes- this may hurt people.

It may cause structures around you to collapse.

Systems that depend on you to stay small, to stay silent, to stay the same.

But the cost of that collapse

does not outweigh the benefit of you

living in complete truth with full integrity.

Your changing shape may hurt them at the surface.

But your becoming whole

heals them- and the grid- structurally.

What survives the fire

is the only thing that ever truly was.

Burn the boats.

For those who prefer to listen, the spoken transmission is available below.

Same words. Different entry point.

Let it move through you.