The modern cult of “holding space” has become a sanctuary for avoidance. We glorify tolerance while privately hemorrhaging self-respect. The phrase once meant presence; now it often means paralysis. Hold Dis L detonates the myth that unconditional compassion justifies self-erasure. Krishnamurti warned that conformity masquerades as kindness; Hawkins proved that guilt vibrates lower than anger. Together they whisper: love without discernment isn’t love—it’s spiritual codependency with better vocabulary.