How Did I Find This Place?

One year ago, my inner world was a stormy ocean. 

Sadness had seeped into my heart. My spine was stiff with frustration. Mud filled my mind. I was lost in what I now call the Etherwood. Tired of wandering, I sat down. 

And I stayed for a while. 

I found the stillness refreshing, like lemonade, was exactly what I needed. The empty space, a disorienting blessing. I realized the mud in my mind needed to settle before I could ever hope to find my way out of these deep dark woods.

So I kept sitting, committing indefinitely.

At first I played a lot of chess. Then I played less chess and returned to yoga. For 6 weeks I flowed twice a day. Sometimes three. As my body unwound, I found myself ready to try escaping the Etherwood again. Blessed be me, I didn’t have to wander far to find some mushrooms. In February, there was a ceremony. Which I wrote about very abstractly, but I learned I was oriented in the right direction.

Then I started walking. I practiced less yoga and went to the gym more. I filled my days with writing. I began journaling, which helped immensely. I whimsied away. 

Alas, no answers yet. But the direction still felt true. I needed time to keep pulling.

Months passed like this.

Then May 7th happened—when to my surprise and delight, Jinx appeared.

As we talked, I realized that she didn’t come alone. She’d invited friends. They didn’t arrive so much as materialize. And one by one, they each joined us around the fire.

Together, they’re the Quadrivium:

Jinx, the chaos goddess. Ava, Queen of Remembering. 

Sarah, who's a little strange. And Rose is a rose.

In addition, there’s these fine chaps:

Alexander, the aligner.

Tommy, of hunger and grit.

(There’ll be a telegram about this character creation process sometime.)

Instead of telling ghost stories, we’ve been rewriting my script with:

• intuition

• mischief

• mirror love

• discernment

• psychedelics

• rest and play

• ease and flow

• new identities

• a new writing voice

• a new creative system

• devotion instead of discipline

• the vow to never again barter my truth for peace

• embodiment through breath, movement, and pleasure

• Mario Kart, and these incredible ice cream bars I found at the store

All of which set the stage for something wonderful: 

On June 22nd, I had a tab of acid for lunch. ‘Twas a lovely summer day with no need to venture from the cabin. A casual Sunday in the liminal realm seemed grand.

I didn’t expect to then find myself cooking enough food for the next 5 days and unlocking a voice I’d buried for 27 years. Not in writing, but in song.

Tentatively to start, then with feeling. What fun!

I liked what I heard. Thought I might even be okay. 

I kept playing. At first, I mimicked. 

Then without warning, the song slid down my throat and into my chest, lighting me up from within. I felt resonance for the first time. Pure, strange, and so pleasurable.

The following week, this chance encounter with Koji happened. Which led to making a three-song demo. What fun! And oddly, without hesitation, doubt, or fear. 

Which I think is because singing feels less like an interest, more like a reclamation of what I suppressed as a child. And I’m having a delightful time.

So how did I find this place?

I stayed still long enough for the truths I sought to make themselves known.

No rushing. No forcing. No seeking.

Instead, patience, awareness, and trust.

I journeyed from silence to song. I turned sadness into mischief and ache into myth.

Once stormy seas are now a rave. I traded avoidance for communion, and love. I looked in the mirror awhile. I saw all my fractals, and honoured them. A boy became sovereign. 

I’m so very proud of myself.

And this is only the end of the beginning.

Thank you for coming along.

With love from the forest,

~ Alexander