Reflection · 2 min read
When Holding On Hurts
The mercy of a clean cut
The cost of holding
We hold on for many reasons. Some are love. Some are fear of what comes after. A role, a promise, a story about who we must be: we keep carrying it long after it has stopped carrying us.
What she cuts
Kali holds a sword. Those who love her say it cuts only what binds: the knot of fear, the old vow made in a frightened hour, the thread that keeps pulling you back into the same harm.
She does not cut what is yours to keep. She cuts what you could not cut alone, because your own hand kept shaking.
Severance is not abandonment
There is a difference between ending a tie that harms you and walking away from a duty you hold dear. A mother still cares for her child. A woman may still keep her word. Kali’s sword does not cut love. It cuts the belief that you must carry everything, and the ties that were never truly yours.
Not every ending is today
Some endings ripen slowly. Grief cannot be hurried, and the cut is not always yours to make this week. Some endings need others beside you: a friend, an elder, someone who knows the law.
Kali’s time is not the clock’s time. Seeing clearly what must end is already the beginning.
Practice
Sit at dusk, as the day is ending, and light one candle.
Bring Kali before you, dark and vast as the night, her sword raised, one hand open in blessing.
Name to her one thing that binds you. Say it aloud, plainly. Recite softly: Om Krim Kalikayai Namah.
Then see her sword fall once, cleanly, through the cord that ties you to it. Do not reach for it again tonight. Rest in the space where it was.
A QUESTION TO CARRY
What are you still carrying that was never yours to carry?
Kali is arriving soon
Her sanctuary is being prepared. Until she is ready, sit with one of the goddesses who is open today and draw a card in her world.
Begin five days free