There was a time when nothing important was decided in the open.
People gathered when the fire was low, the day had spent itself, and what they carried was not announced, but simply placed where the heat could reach it.
Some things survived the fire. Some things did not.
No one hurried the outcome, or asked for certainty.
This was how resolve was forged.
This is The Cauldron. π₯
A weekly space to add what youβre carrying, apply a little heat, and leave clearer and more focused than you arrived.
Those who search will find it in βοΈ The Forge.
Those who are meant to be there will arrive.