The Land of The Dead

23 years ago, I had just turned 23 when my world was turned upside down. Now I stand at the cusp of a new era.

Placement is meaningful. Kangaroo Island, ‘The Land of The Dead’, where the original inhabitants could most clearly see their ancestors’ light in the night sky, is an apt place to be for I, too, honour my past. Anniversaries clothe the desire for anchor points in time. In colouring life, their quality as markers of what has come to be girds development and encourages progression.

My separation from the mainland lends a sense of removal, in effect making today’s remembrance light-hearted. This, an important characteristic, shifts focus and I, perhaps for the first time, find my Self turning with purpose. In uncharacteristic motion, away from what was, what has come to be and how it has done so, I turn to face uncertainty.
The internal eye approves, appreciating the gleam of potential.

Reality is mine to shape.

Here the step forward in greeting is embodied.

My next 23 years. What will come is not known and in this, opportunity is latent.

The past, my past, has passed. Its skeletons rise in sharp relief. It is time for release.

The Land of The Dead.

Clearing the way for evolution, Death is ever present. Looking at my friend now, I smile and, opening my arms, embrace fate. A new age is dawning and with it the prospect to create what has never before been.

How exciting.

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