A soul-guided reflection for transforming an ordinary walk into a mythic pilgrimage. PRELUDE: THE INVOCATIONBefore you step outside, pause. Stand at the threshold of your door—literal or symbolic.Place one hand on your chest. Feel your breath. Feel your weight.Now, whisper […]
Field Notes from the Edge #007 There’s a moment in every myth where the hero stands before a gate.Not a grand gate of gold or marble—but something subtler, more symbolic.A shimmer between worlds. A crack in the ordinary.A child in […]
Somewhere between the womb and the wave,between the clenched fist and the open hand,there is a rhythm. It is not rushed.It is not forced.It is the rhythm of becoming. This morning, I drew three cards from the Osho Zen Tarot.And […]
A personal resurrection in seven acts Threshold Moment: The Phoenix Stir There’s a moment just before the flame catches, when the ashes still whisper the name of who you used to be. I find myself standing in that moment now. […]
Here in the UK, Easter weekend unfolds across four sacred days. It’s long enough to lose your everyday rhythm and find a deeper one. And if you play the game right, you can slip between the cracks of routine and […]
What if the third act of your life isn’t about slowing down but becoming the myth you were born to tell? Join me on a wisdom walk through memory, metaphor, and mythic insight as I unpack the tension between old […]
In the myth of Narcissus, the boy does not fall in love with himself until he sees his reflection. The tragedy is not his vanity—but his awakening to selfhood through an audience, even if that audience is only the shimmering […]
“You are not late. You are not lost. You are in bloom, even now.” Somewhere, beneath the noise and urgency of the day, a softer rhythm pulses. Maybe you felt it tug at you just before you clicked here. Maybe […]
In every old tale worth retelling, there comes a moment when the hero finds themself circling the same path—through dark woods, across barren fields, inside a maze of mirrors. No dragon, no villain, just the echo of their own footsteps […]