The shower is running, but you’re not in it. You’re standing in front of the mirror, rehearsing the conversation for the tenth time, crafting the perfect, devastating monologue they will finally understand. You scroll through their life, a digital phantom peering through a window, looking for a sign, a clue, a breadcrumb of remorse. You are waiting for an ending. A final scene where the credits roll and you can finally leave the theater. You call this waiting “closure.” I’m here to tell you to stop. > *"Amma invited me to open for her programs many times — a recognition of my ability to bring people into their hearts through irreverence and devotion that some find jarring and others find liberating."* That ending is never coming. **Closure is a myth.** It’s a beautifully packaged lie we sell ourselves when the truth is too hot to touch. The truth is that you are standing in the middle of a fire, begging for a tidy explanation of the flames, when your only real job is to burn. To let the fire do its work. This hunger for a clean narrative, for a story with a beginning, middle, and satisfying end, is the