Shedding, softening, returning.
Suddhi — purification — is not always fire. Sometimes it is water. Sometimes it is simply sitting still long enough that what is not yours falls away on its own.
I have been on this path long enough now to know that the work is not in adding. It is in letting go. Of identities, of stories, of the heavy armour we built when we were young and frightened.
What is left when all of that falls away? Something quieter. Something older. Something that was always there, waiting beneath the noise.
Still shedding. Still softening. Still returning.