Immerse yourself in deep waters, allow the night breeze to still your mind. Vacant pools, silver-bright sunshine, a hot, invisible net. Out of this dream came black water and a single thoughtform: If you can see differently, you can live differently, in the uncanny, in the stillness. A spider’s web, a coded poem, strange shapes, and subtle vibrations. And woven through it all: stillness. Still-ness. There are a million rules for living, friend. The most important one is this: you must never look back.
Today: the memory of yellow-green sea foam, clouds and sails. A milky shard of green kyanite, music in the key of B, a tuxedo cat with a symmetrical tree trunk marking on its nose, the secret history of Zeta Ophiuchi, and the tenacity of quaking aspen.
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Waxing Crescent
The moon is 4 days old