Dancing with kali

The Sacred Work of Destruction & Renewal

There are times when I feel the world unraveling, not just in politics or culture, but inside myself. Old identities crack, systems crumble, illusions shatter. It is terrifying and liberating all at once.

Spiral Dynamics teaches us that each stage of consciousness eventually collapses under its own weight, making way for what comes next. At the higher stages, what some call Violet, we understand this truth not only with our minds, but with our souls: destruction is not the end. It is the doorway. This is Kali’s dance.

Kali’s Fierce Compassion

Kali, the dark mother, is not here to coddle us. She does not gently pry away what no longer serves. She tears it out, root and all, so that truth can breathe. Her compassion is not soft; it is strict, fierce, uncompromising.

She whispers through fire and storm:

A relationship that has outlived its truth must burn.

A system built on injustice must fall.

An illusion that keeps you small must die.

This is not cruelty, it is love that refuses to let us stay bound.

Violet consciousness sees what Kali embodies: collapse is not failure but fertile ground. Fire purifies. Ashes nourish. The spiral turns, and life renews itself.

The paradox is carrying this mystical awareness into the everyday.

How do I pay bills while the world burns?

How do I parent within systems that were never built for compassion?

How do I honor cosmic unity while living amidst fractured institutions?

Kali’s answer is clear: Do not flee. Embody.

Her dance is wild, but it is not escapism. She plants us in the ruins and says, “Stand. Breathe. Let the old fall. You are not dying, you are transforming.”

At Violet, everything is sacred, even the mess, even the collapse. And that sacredness does not mean bypassing the pain. It means standing in it with unshaken presence.

The Dance of the Spiral and the Goddess

Spiral Dynamics maps human evolution as a rising staircase, each step a new worldview. But in truth, the spiral is not linear, it is a dance. And Kali is there at every turn, clearing space for the next rhythm to emerge.

She was present in the Purple stage, when tribes feared the spirits and sought safety through ritual. She was present in Red’s ego battles, in Blue’s rigid dogma, in Orange’s hunger for progress, in Green’s yearning for inclusion.

And at Violet, the octave of mysticism, she is still here. Reminding us that unity is not fragile, it is forged in fire. Reminding us that endings are beginnings in disguise.

To walk with Kali now is to accept the storm. To bless endings without rushing to rebuild. To carry the flame while also being the hurricane.

Being human in this moment feels like holding a candle in a hurricane. The flame flickers, and I fear it will go out. But then Kali laughs, reminding me: You are the flame. You are the hurricane. And you are the one who dances in the ruins, barefoot, fierce, free.

The spiral turns. What is falling will feed what is rising. And my role, amidst the chaos, is to dance with her, to let go of what cannot last, and to trust the sacred work of destruction and renewal.

Om Krim Kalikayai Namah