In the awakening morning light, clouds of mist are gliding over the barren landscape. The silence is endless. The opaque and eerie landscape is waiting with bated breath...To see thefirst rays on sunlight. Sometimes, in such mornings, spending time alone in the bog helps to make simple things clear.
We all have a garden. Some have it large, measured by hectares, the others have it in a small flower pot on the window sill. A garden me by on top of the hill or in the valley, or next to a bubbling spring. A garden reflects its creator, whether it has a sterile grass field, beautiful flowerbeds or is buried under weeds. How do you perceive yourself, when you look into your soul garden?
Looking at a wonderful container, we can imagine that it contains water, wine or a right amount of sacrificial oil, so that the conical Rhyton would be balanced. Our archetypal memory has preserved a picture of a beautiful container usually being held by a woman. The woman is coming from a spring with aqua vitae; the woman is carrying new life …. The vase is a symbol of feminine energy.
It is a joy to be on the road walking with a straight back and merrily whistling. Some smaller paths and turns are neglected, still onwards. Until your reach the four-way crossroad, now you have to stop to make a decision. Options along with taking responsibility make life sometimes complicated.