Sublime

I’d met people in my life who were pure poison. I had learned to know the look of them—the way their smiles came and went and never touched their eyes, those eyes that could be so intense at times and yet revealed no soul. Such people might look normal, but inside it was as though some vital part of them was missing, and whenever I saw eyes like th

“People will do almost anything to escape this combination of condemned isolation and powerlessness.”

But no matter how we attempt to outsmart her, we inevitably internalize the Death Mother; we begin conflating her voice with our own.

Mara, she called her, after the sea.

This seemingly separate self dissolves in recognition, like darkness ends in light.

In hindsight, almost all of us have, at least once, experienced a compelling idea or semi-dazzling person crawling in through our psychic windows at night and catching us off guard.

Marion Woodman instructs, “holding the tension of the opposites”

In other words, the emotions and desires and positions that our ego disowns inevitably haunt us (personally and collectively) by generating painful synchronous experiences that urge us to confront and reintegrate the disdained side of a polarity.

Spiritual practices such as meditation slowly help us to extricate ourselves from attachment to the levels of illusion of our separateness.