There is a wonderful depiction of our psychic journey from ancient Egypt that describes the path we face within which I liken to the journey of Ra in his chariot and the path of consciousness back to its origin, into the darkness below, to the end of where it meets itself in its relation to life and against the background of its source, from which it originally arose, and the inherent center and self-regulating guiding principle of formless opposites that enclose it in an embodied experience of a whole. An experience that arises behind the description of our sensations that my consciousness relates to in order to become aware of itself. It’s a struggle with the pure unchanging psychic energies it encounters on its way back into life from below as an awakening. A rebirth with a different way of relating to oneself through our purified minds and through psychological reflection of a totality of which consciousness is a part. Where our observation to the within then again makes its journey across our psychic sky of consciousness, in to the light of its own constant renewal, guided on each side by the balance of life, its inner equilibrium, and on the other side by its insightful reflection with the self-regulating inner source as its ordering principle in the circular whole they constitute and at the same time are covered by. The surprising thing about our experiences is that they are made based on an underlying predetermined order. They usually appear spontaneously, as if experiences themselves have a fundamental way of shaping our conscious conceptions of them around something that was already there as they react with the content brought into our consciousness during our lives. A dream I had not long ago made me think of this. Because against the background of classical egyptian illustration of it, it takes on another meaningful context that relates all the beliefs we have to experiences we make that are usually not visible to us. Most of us will just come to the realization that the experiences we make that lie behind our ideas are in some way protected by copyright. That the very ability we use to give them form so that we can give content to our experiences is to prevent others from describing the same experience by other means. I naturally have another way of making the same perambulation by using the opening to it that it shows me when I’m out in nature. It can be almost anything. We will know it when we are provided with it. It feels different. As if we were drawn into something else. We suddenly feel relieved, calm and present in a bodily sense. It can be the mountains, an unusual natural formation of stones, a tree, a clearing in the forest, or a place that suddenly gives us a different attention than what is obvious in it. I’ve heard of other ways to accomplish the same thing, but I just go with what comes naturally to me. It is not something we impose on ourselves or others. It just happens, and almost at the same time it happens I notice that it’s happening to me. If I don’t listen to it and go into it, I get sick. In the same way that I see that many others around me are. In its own way, the presence this has given me has also protected me from completely losing myself to this disease.