Crucible and Chance

Affliction has a wondrous capability to reduce its target into their most fundamental unit: a trembling human.

Our anesthetics eviscerated.

Raw, disorientating, searing perception.

This is the nature of our crucible.

Transfiguration or reduction: the result of weighted chance. There is no honor in the result of luck.

To emerge from the crucible with a greater capacity to love is the echo of miracle. To defy the pull of affliction is supernatural; it is beyond my cognition.

I pray for those in this world to scarcely encounter affliction. I simply wish for less suffering.

It has always been in that crucible where I feel the most alive, the most human.

The wonder in affliction is its ability to pierce our defenses. The destruction of our scaffolding from the inside, forced to witness the collapse.

Painfully beautiful.

Sincerity remains in the rubble.