Let It Burn

Have you ever wondered what it would actually feel like to live defenselessly?

Not to understand defenselessness intellectually.

Not to quote A Course in Miracles about it.

Not to nod wisely while reading:

“In my defenselessness my safety lies.”

But to live it.

To be misunderstood and not correct the misunderstanding.

To know you are factually right and not build a courtroom inside your mind.

To feel the ego preparing its closing argument—and choose peace instead.

During my final years with Ken, I had begun studying A Course in Miracles. Curiously, the section that drew me most powerfully was the Manual for Teachers, especially its teaching on defenselessness.

I didn’t merely want to understand defenselessness intellectually.

I wanted to know what it felt like, as Jesus showed us while he was being crucified.

And apparently, life took me seriously.

Jesus must have heard my question and said:

“Excellent question. Here’s Ken.”

😂🔥

Welcome to the Puri-Fire

My relationship with Ken became the classroom where I discovered that defenselessness did not initially feel peaceful.

It felt like fire.

Every time I resisted the urge to defend myself, prove my innocence, establish my accuracy, or make him wrong, something inside me felt like I was in hell, painfully burning.

And boy, did it fucking hurt!

I began calling that experience the puri-fire because I could feel that the burning was purifying my mind.

Although it sometimes felt as if I were being consumed, the fire was not destroying anything real. It was burning through my arrogant and ignorant pride. It was consuming my need to be vindicated, validated, understood, and declared right before I would allow myself to be at peace.

What hurt was not the destruction of who I was.

It was the dissolution of everything I had mistaken for who I was. My ego was starting to dissolve. 

I was overriding my egoic need to be right.

During those years, I am certain I read and reread Chapter 7, Section VI, “From Vigilance to Peace,” a hundred times, as I tried to make sense of the lived lesson Ken was providing.

That section helped me understand why this inner process required such extraordinary courage, patience, and vigilance.

ACIM explains that the mind cannot serve two contradictory masters peacefully. One is founded upon fear, separation, attack, defense, and the need to be right: ego. The other remembers love, innocence, unity, and the unchangeable truth of what God created: Holy Spirit.

As long as we believe both voices contain some truth, we experience conflict.

And so vigilance becomes necessary.

Not vigilance against another person.

Not vigilance against the world.

Not even vigilance against the ego as if it were an actual enemy.

We become vigilant about which teacher we are allowing to interpret our experience.

When the Ego Is Accurate but Insane

One of the ego’s most effective strategies is using facts to justify attack.

They said it.

They did it.

They lied.

They betrayed me.

They misunderstood me.

Those things may be factually accurate.

The ego can be perfectly logical—and still completely insane.

Being accurate does not necessarily mean we are thinking with God.

During my last years with Ken, I was factually right many times. My righteous ego could assemble evidence, call witnesses, prepare exhibits, and deliver one hell of a closing argument.

But the deeper question became:

What is my righteousness costing me?

Was being right bringing me peace?

Was proving my position helping me remember who I am as God created me?

Was defeating Ken in the imaginary courtroom inside my head setting either of us free?

No.

My righteousness was blocking the Love that could have liberated my mind.

I did not swallow my pride because Ken deserved to be right.

I swallowed it because I deserved to be free.

Let me repeat this for those in the back: 🗣️

I swallowed my pride because I deserved to be free.

That distinction is everything.

The Fire Between Reaction and Peace

In our recent Advanced ACIM class, one of our magnificent beings described an encounter that brought this lesson to life.

While walking her dogs, Joy ran toward another dog. The man accompanying that dog picked up two large rocks and said that he would have crushed Joy’s skull.

The situation was frightening. His words were disturbing. And the ego had more than enough material with which to build a case against him.

But she did not allow his fear to recruit her fear.

She collected Joy, walked away, and quietly repeated:

I’m sorry.

Please forgive me.

I love you.

Thank you.

And then something remarkable happened.

She chuckled.

That chuckle was not denial. She did not pretend his behavior was loving or appropriate. She did not surrender discernment or abandon responsibility for protecting Joy.

She simply refused to let her ego's fear decide what the experience meant.

Perhaps this man had once been attacked by a dog. Perhaps a dog had harmed his child or another animal he loved. We do not know.

What we do know is that, in that moment, he received one less judgment.

Instead of reinforcing his perception of a threatening world, she left him with a different memory: a person who did not attack him back.

That is how vigilance leads to peace.

We notice the ego rising.

We feel its demand that we defend, retaliate, correct, or condemn.

And we choose again to extend God's love.

The Burning Is Not Evidence That You Failed

When we begin practicing defenselessness, it may feel negligent.

The ego tells us that if we do not defend ourselves, we are weak. If we don't correct someone, their version of events becomes the truth. If we allow another person to be right, we must be accepting that we are wrong.

Being wrong feels like death to the ego.

Then comes the burn.

We feel an almost unbearable urge to explain ourselves, send the text or email, produce the evidence, or deliver one final devastatingly brilliant sentence.

You know the sentence.

The one that will finally make them see everything clearly, recognize their insanity, apologize for their behavior, and perhaps erect a small monument commemorating our innocence.

But when we do not obey that urge, something holy happens.

We enter the puri-fire.

The discomfort is not evidence that something has gone wrong. It is evidence that an ancient identity is losing its authority.

We are allowing the beliefs beneath our defensiveness to surface:

If I am wrong, I will be punished.

If I am misunderstood, I will be rejected.

If I do not protect myself, I will be hurt.

If they don't validate me, I don't matter.

If I don't defend myself, I am worthless.

If I don't stand up for myself, dad/mom will be disappointed in me.

These beliefs were often formed in childhood, when being wrong could mean punishment, humiliation, exclusion, or withdrawal of affection.

No wonder the ego fights so hard to be right.

It believes being right keeps us safe.

The puri-fire reveals that our safety never depended on another person’s understanding.

Our safety lies in remembering who we are as God created us.

From Vigilance to Peace

ACIM tells us that vigilance has no place in peace.

We need vigilance only because the mind is still conflicted. If we completely recognized that love is all we want, there would be nothing else to guard against. Choosing peace would be natural and immediate.

But until the natural becomes normal, vigilance is required.

At first, we may recognize the ego after we have reacted.

Later, we catch it as the words are leaving our mouths.

Eventually, we feel it rising as a thought and choose not to give it our voice.

Over time, righteousness no longer feels powerful. It feels like contraction.

Attack no longer feels protective. It feels like the self-inflicted pain it is.

And peace stops feeling like surrender.

It feels like strength.

It feels like Home.

Our progress is not measured by never leaving peace. It is revealed in how quickly and honestly we recognize that we left Home—and how gently we choose to return.

Vigilance is not the destination.

It is the bridge.

We remain vigilant for God’s way until God’s way becomes the only way we genuinely want.

Then vigilance quietly gives way to peace.

This peace cannot be understood; it has to be felt.

The Courage to Stay in the Fire

Looking back, I regularly thank Jesus for the lessons Ken provided.

I am deeply grateful for the woman I was—the woman courageous enough to stay in the puri-fire while her pride, spiritual righteousness, and need for vindication burned away.

I did not always understand what was happening.

I did not always enter willingly.

And I certainly did not float through it wearing a halo and whispering serene ACIM quotations.

Sometimes I entered kicking, screaming, and carrying enough supporting documentation to bury the defendant.

😂🔥

But beneath all of that resistance, I was determined.

I was fucking vigilant for only God’s way.

Little by little, the mind that needed to defend itself began discovering that nothing real was under attack.

The woman who once believed she needed Ken to understand her eventually understood herself through the eyes of God.

She discovered that defenselessness was not passivity.

It was courage.

It was not tolerating abuse, denying facts, or remaining in situations that were no longer loving.

Defenselessness meant that no human being had the power to alter what God created her to be.

It was not weakness.

It was her safety.

It brought a peace beyond understanding.

It was her freedom.

And that's when it clicked: what others thought of her did not alter who she is as God created her.

She was Home!

Integration: Entering Your Own Puri-Fire

The next time you feel the burning need to defend yourself, pause before responding.

Ask yourself:

What am I afraid will happen if I am not proven right?

What does my righteousness appear to offer me?

What is it actually costing me?

Would I rather win this argument—or free my mind?

Do I value being happy or being right?

You do not have to deny what happened.

You do not have to agree with someone else’s perception.

You do not have to remain silent if Love genuinely guides you to speak.

Simply become willing to release the belief that your peace depends upon the outcome.

Let the discomfort rise.

Let the ancient conditioning burn.

Bite your tongue if the ego wants to utter unloving words.

Let the Holy Spirit show you that what God created cannot be threatened by anyone’s opinion, misunderstanding, or accusation.

Then allow the fire to consume only what was never true.

Let your ego's power dissolve.

Trust the process.

Lainaism

"I did not swallow my pride because you deserved to be right. I swallowed it because I deserved to be free. So, sweetheart, if being right costs you your peace, enter the puri-fire—and let that shit burn."

Closing Transmission

Beloved, the fire is not here to destroy you.

It cannot touch what is holy, whole, innocent, and eternally safe in the Mind of God.

It can burn only the defenses you built around an identity that was never true.

Let it burn through the need to be understood.

Let it burn through the hunger for vindication.

Let it burn through the fear of being wrong.

Let it burn until nothing remains between you and the Peace that has always been yours.

One day, perhaps sooner than you imagine, you will stand where the battle once appeared to be and realize there is nothing left to defend.

And maybe—just maybe—you will chuckle.

Because the fire did not take anything from you.

It set you free.

With joy and a potty mouth,