Behind the curtain, under the bed

...and I still have no idea where the spare keys are poised. 

I'm actively disengaging with 'doing' at the moment. Or trying to at least learn how to just 'be' more. I start a new Hermetics course next week with Ebonie Allard and _Belonging_ is on our reading list. It's a lot to process, this book, so much so that I have to both listen and read it because there is so much that settles on my skin.  Having paused all romantic endeavours and opportunity, I am preparing to fall into the void of isolation so that I can be the future ancestor I am destined to be, preparing to let the necessary blade of loneliness cut beyond

One of the most fascinating aspects is Turner's view of the Death Mother. And to reckon with the nuance of this archetype leaves me breathless for the sheer diabolic nature of the subconscious continues to amaze and astound me. That one can journey so far, do so much work and then bust up the beautiful thing we are creating, because something so bright, dangerous and familiar returns and temptation knocks.   

Why is Pandora a woman? More and more, I think it must be a man. 

There are not enough naps today.