We are surrounded by sky. The days of above and below have long passed. I was once interested in astrology, in the idea that gigantic forces flinging suns and planets around the sky might pinpoint us in the way that one sparrow does not fall. Is psychology more astronomy, more biology, more alchemy, or more chemistry?
Maybe you were practicing a youth spent trying to be worthy, not realising how beautiful and perfect you were then, and will not be again. Maybe you’re curating your past, walking into the darkness of memory, with all the figures of those times. Maybe you’re walking into the light of wisdom, whether wise yourself or possibly a listener, hearing what cannot be seen. Nothing that is done in secret will not be revealed.
You might be sailing across the seas of spirituality, which are now said to project the music of the spheres, of which the earth is one. You might be taking risks, being warned when sailing too close to the rocks, receiving the gift of transparency. Seeing into September, half the world pink with Spring, half gold with Autumn. Hearing the Gospel, the good spell, the wholesome story. As above, so below.
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