My Reset as Embodied Experience

Reframed as Poetry 

Te mura o te ahi
The refining fire

There is a fire
that does not ask permission.

It arrives
quietly at first –
in the tightening of the chest,
in the knowing you can’t quite name,
in the spaces that no longer fit
the shape of who you are becoming.

This is not destruction.

This is Te mura o te ahi.
The refining fire.

Where what is not true
cannot stay.

We step forward thinking we are here to do the work –
to lead,
to carry,
to make things work for the good of many. Not just some. 

But the fire asks something deeper:

Who are you in the fire with?

And who are you when what you’ve relied on falls away?

When the giving becomes too much.
the compromise is to taxing; 

When the silence costs too dearly.
When the spaces you once fit
no longer hold you with integrity.

Who are you when others don’t share your truth? 

Because in the fire you will find out that status quo is convenient. 

Because doing so requires more of them. More of what they don’t want to do. 

Because greater transparency shines a light on the invisible web of steady income they have come to know and enjoy.

Oh how the comfort of convenience has a price. 

And it’s in the fire there will come a moment –  you will know it – 

where you begin
reclaiming authorship of your leadership.

Not loudly.
Not all at once.

But in the quiet decisions —

This is mine to hold.
This is not.

This is aligned.
This is not.

And suddenly, through the smoke you find out true leadership is no longer performance.

It is placement.

You start to notice the invitations.

The ones that stir something deep within you –
the call to step forward,
to speak,
to stand.

And still – you momentarily hesitate.

Because to accept them
means becoming visible
in a way you cannot undo.

So the question lingers:

Where are you being invited to lead –
but holding back
from your own becoming?

And then – there are other moments.

Quieter.
Sharper.

Where you are no longer called in.
Where doors close
without explanation.

Where your presence
is not required.

And the ego may ask: Why? Why don’t they like what I have to say? 

But the deeper knowing responds:

What barrier is this creating for your highest good – and what is it protecting you from?

Not every space you are uninvited from
is a loss.

Some are protection.
Some are redirection.
Some are the fire
clearing the path ahead.

This is the tension of transforming.

To be both
who you have been –
and who you are becoming.

To feel the pull
toward something greater,
while grieving
what you must leave behind.

To stand in the in-between –
not fully recognised there,
not yet arrived here.

But the fire does not leave you unchanged.

It refines your knowing.
It sharpens your discernment.
It strengthens your voice.

Until one day,
without announcement,
you realise – 

you are no longer trying
to make yourself fit.

You are no longer offering yourself
to every space.

You are no longer leading
from obligation.

You are standing
where you are meant to stand.

Not by force.
Not by chance.

But by truth.

This is what it means
to be rightly placed.

Not just relied on –
but aligned.

Not just present –
but purposeful.

Not just leading –
but living
in full authorship
of who you are here to be.

Te mura o te ahi – 

the heat of the fire
does not consume you.

It reveals you.