So here you are. In the rubble. Maybe the relationship ended. The job disappeared. The version of yourself you spent years building just... collapsed. And everyone's got their platitudes ready: "Everything happens for a reason." But right now you're standing in ash and the only thing you know for sure is that something died and you're not sure yet if you died with it. Here's what nobody tells you about transformation: it doesn't feel like a butterfly emerging from a cocoon. It feels like burning alive. The ancient yogis knew this. They had a place for it—the shmashana (shma-SHAH-nah), the cremation grounds where everything burns down to ash and truth. Kali dances there. Wild-eyed, tongue out, wearing a garland of skulls. She's the force that clears the ground. The dark mother who loves you enough to burn away everything that isn't actually you. This pathworking takes you to meet her. To stand at your own pyre and see what's burning, what survives the flames, and what grows from the ash