I remember myself closing my eyes once, being entranced by the soothing voice, being slowly guided into the quantum. That place, state of mind, the edge where unknown becomes safe and my most egoistic entity would naturally surrender to what I would call my home home. Yet for the body, the most physical thing in this world, the home is where a soul-moving circle is, the energy that can only be born from the dancing flames led by the ecstatic voices, drum beats and other mankind produced sounds. It's there Gaian philosophers would find grounding for their wordy statements, it's where the pagan mythologists would again come up with their praises and strong appreciation for the mother's womb, cave analogy, one's home in its most deepest meaning.
Soul feels at home when it connects to the fragments it's been longing for so long. In a circle of oneness we express ourselves, loosing any trace of fear, guilt and limiting beliefs. Every Sunday night is marked by this ecstatic closure and celebration of the things that have made it to the past simultaneously preparing my mind for new beginnings, the unknown by electric recharge running cell to cell, molecule to molecule, nurturing love into them. If ever confused in life, there's only the simplest and most obvious thing you can do. Surrender to the place where everything began - Mother Nature, under the moon, in the darkness similar to the mother's womb, in the warmth of accepting hearts. You might welcome an uplifting word, important word taking you out of your head to your heart, to your next direction.
