Seven gates. Seven fires. Seven keys to a door that was never locked. The ancients mapped them on the body because the body was always the temple — not a prison of bone and breath, but a living altar built from stardust and intention. When the lowest flame reaches the highest, when earth energy rises to meet the light of the cosmos, something irreversible happens. The illusion of separation burns away. What remains is not emptiness — it is fullness beyond measure. A being standing at the center of all things, radiating in every direction at once, finally understanding that the universe was not something to be found. It was something to be recognized. In the mirror. In the silence. In the fire that was always, already, burning within.