Much of the country struggles with snow, ice and sub-zero temperatures. Egypt is in revolution. I ground to Mother Earth with the reminder of hematite. Wear amethyst to honor the High Priestess. She's not telling but allowing me to know on the dream level that I must tend my own place on earth with peace.
Tomorrow I will miss my book group that will discuss the graphic novel MAUS I: My Father Bleeds History by Artie Spiegelman. MAUS 1: My Father Bleeds HistoryThe format is so compelling but somewhere in the back of my mind is the disparaging voice saying, it's just a comic book. However, because of the format, I was pulled forward with urgency into the story within a story that contains the third story (that of Artie's mother Anya). When I was in high school I saw films of concentration camps that still ride deep with horror. I read Man's Search for Meaning sometime in the '60s. Plus Anne Frank and probably others that I do not recall. The stories that must be told keep coming forward in every conceivable format in order that we rise above the worst expressions of humanity and seek a higher ground. If you haven't read this book, do. MAUS II sits on top of the tower of books at my bedside.
Tonight I will snuggle into dreamtime with apatite, selenite, calcite, black jadce and a handful of other Earth helpers as I follow the She Wolf. A new Owl calls my name.
Blessings this moment.
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