It was supposed to be a game.
A way to spend Eternity.
To understand, to know, to name.
It was supposed to be a game. Continue reading
Category: On a Sunday
The Sacred Clown
Trump is probably the most famous person on the planet right now, eclipsing even the Pope and the Dalai Lama.
An aspiring tyrant of Nero-like proportions to the political left, and a holy crusader to the political right. But there is also a third mythical perspective (and certainly more, but we will focus on this particular one here):
Trump as The Sacred Clown. Continue reading
Technocracy vs. Ecocracy
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
A Tear in the World
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
The Unbearable Everything
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
Calypso
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
I’m your Shadow, Bitch!
Recently I had a dream. A couple of weeks before Norway went into corona semi-lockdown. I was in a bedroom, getting ready for the night, looking at my reflection in a full-size mirror with a golden filigree frame.
Suddenly I saw another version of myself, fully clothed and with a greying ponytail, reclining in a dark yellow (nearly golden) velvet armchair, slowly grinning at me. In many ways like my own personal version of Twin Peaks’ Bob. Continue reading
Corona of Fear. Corona of Love.
Corona. Latin for Crown. From Ancient Greek κορώνη meaning Garland / Wreath. Usually used to signify the aura of plasma surrounding our sun and all other stars in the Universe. A crown or garland or wreath extending from the sun for millions of kilometers. Or, if you’re not so astronomically inclined, a Mexican beer. Continue reading
Now
Now. Continue reading
The Wound and the Bottle
A few days ago I was struck by a deep sadness. I know that feeling, it is centred around the heart, it feels like a deep grief of being disconnected with life. True life. A disconnection within the self, a rift, a gap, a lack. A lack of wholeness. It’s a terrible feeling and often kickstarts mechanisms in the psyche which makes me want to drink insane amounts of coffee, play computer games, watch meaningless Youtube-videos, scroll my Facebook feed etc. etc. Just to avoid the pain.
This time, though, the underlying sorrow was too intense. Escapistic strategies wouldn’t work. From experience I know that pain can be a teacher if you let it. So I tried to sink into it, to look for the origin of the wound. An image appeared in my mind, a specific tree in a nearby park, a gentle suggestion to go there and see. “Why?” I asked myself. “Just go” was the reply. Continue reading