There are moments when everything we built begins to fall apart — not out of cruelty, but out of necessity. The soul has outgrown its confines, and life answers by unmaking what no longer serves truth. We call it crisis. But perhaps it is mercy. Crisis is not punishment; it is purification — the spirit’s way of shaking free from the illusions that bind it. When identity fractures and certainty disappears, the deeper self emerges, raw and luminous. The unraveling reveals what

We do not suffer from the world itself — we suffer from how we see  it. Perception is the quiet battlefield of the soul, where the mind and spirit wrestle for dominion. The mind tells stories to protect us, to make sense of the chaos. But those same stories, when left unexamined, begin to close in like walls. How often do we mistake survival for truth? We cling to our narratives because they make the uncertain familiar. Yet each attachment, no matter how comforting, clouds ou