Once upon a time there was an arc, defining points in my journey through the Underworld. Two of these are days 135 and 3581. This story builds on katabasis.

In order to take you there, I need to introduce a second metaphor. Imagine a large museum and in it, a small chamber. When I open the door it reveals a dark room with discreet lighting and thick, burgundy, velvet curtains. Pulling them aside we step in and there you see it: a large, beautiful tapestry hanging in the midst of the room. That tapestry is my life.

Once upon a time there was katabasis, the journey that changed my life.

When I was in my mid twenties, Chaos found me. When Chaos finds you, you know. And you also know nothing will ever be the same again. Chaos is not tender, it is not polite, it does not open doors nor pull out chairs, it drags them on the floor until the screeching sound makes you cover your ears and squeeze your eyes shut. It does not play nice, it is not transparent and it does not care about your feelings. What did I know of Chaos? What fit was I to contend with Chaos? None whatsoever. It was a monster and it was devouring me.

Once upon a time there was a tablet, a story of the heart.

In ancient Mesopotamia the liver and the heavens were considered the ‘tablets’ of the gods. One looked to the sky to decipher messages from the divine, and that is one of the primary reasons why astronomy was so important. One also ‘read’ the liver or entrails of a sacrificed animal for the same reason.* All this information would be recorded on clay tablets, of which we have spoken before.**

Once upon a time there was twine. An intentional attachment, a connection.

Snow squeaking underfoot and the sun long gone, you walk down the street. Yes it is that festive time of year, lights aglow and you could really get on board with all the good cheer if you were not so busy fighting winter winds for your coat. You pull it tighter around you, head down. You walk down past the baker, the weaver, the tailor, and then you catch a glimpse from the corner of your eye, the twiner.

You walk into a hall of fame. You are not yet sure what kind of fame it is with which you are dealing, but you venture in nonetheless, open, curious. This hall makes its visitor feel as though one is out at sea, and each of its heroes ships that have sailed high seas in times past. Strung along the walls are ‘nautical’ portraits of men and women, with an accompanying description outlining the reason for their being here.

Once upon a time there was uncertainty. Only a few kids on the playground wanted to play with it, most of them avoided it, timid, hesitant, afraid. That is, until one day when they discovered that uncertainty was actually their friend in ways that had not understood. That changed everything.

Once upon a time there was a law that was a song.

This particular law was to be transformed into a song to be sung.* It was essentially a story that needed to be remembered not just in the present, but for generations to come. It is much easier to sing a song than remember many words, so making a song of it makes perfect sense.