We are at a crossroads. The world as we know it is ending – it has been ending for a long time, but now most of us are becoming aware that it is happening. The question is – what story will we choose? What macro narrative will inform the new world? Or to put it in other terms relevant to this blog -> What myth will we live by?
From the decaying corpse of turbo capitalism two children are emerging, fighting for our attention. These fraternal twins both want the same – a safe future, a predictable environment and peace on Earth. But their modus operandi and underlying values are widely different. Their names are Technocracy and Ecocracy. Continue reading
Still waters. Clear skies. High spirits.
She closed her eyes. Familiar red-tinged darkness. Entoptic larvae crawling in imaginary space, a spastic dance of perceived light. Her hands resting on the skin of her qayaq. The soft sound of water caressing its underbelly. She imagined the waters within. The ebbs and floes of her inner reservoir of H2O, the swirls, the eddies, the crushing waterfalls and deep, still ponds.
„I am a mirror“ she whispered, allowing her mind to float and dissolve into the vast ocean below. Picture: Her lines of thought as erratic strands of photons falling apart, dropping like fairy dust. Small submerged specks of energy interacting with the informational content of the liquid surrounding them. Becoming one with it. A somewhat guided vision, to be sure. Yet she also tried to stay open, to receive whatever intutive imagery that would come to her in this state. Every time she did this. Every day. There: A flash of darkness, something deep. And a lingering memory of too much death. Translated in her being as a tightness in the chest and a welling of the eyes. Continue reading
This Easter, when the world is in relative isolation, forced to look within, my thoughts go back to last year’s Easter. I was in The Netherlands, readying myself to join about fifty other people of all ages, all dressed in white, in communion.
The sacrament that we were about to imbibe was not the blood of Christ, but Ayahuasca. Ayahuasca is a Quecha word meaning Spirit Vine and plenty of people have written about what it is and what it does. I won’t go into details about the composition and history of this entheogen, but I will speak about the journey. A journey that I can best describe as diving into the realms of myth. Continue reading
The grapes were shining. Giving off light, a reflection of the raging firestorm in the city below.
“It is true, then.” he said, looking up at the red, shaking sky; a canvas of hell, “These are the days of the Apocalypse.” Silent tears streamed down his cheek, pooling up in the shallows of his beard. A piece of cloth appeared in the corner of his eye, dapping his moist skin. He turned to look. It was her veil, still covering her hair. Seeing his surprise, she withdrew her makeshift handkerchief, letting her hands rest on the box between her legs. Continue reading