Prometheus stole fire from the gods. We are each the heirs of that divine spark. Used wisely, the spark fuels one's journey and lights the way. Treated carelessly, the spark consumes its owner and everything in its path.

Sometimes a journey is not about the traveler. It is not about a destination. It is about the bringing together of worlds. It is about lighting a path.

His mission is not to wait until the world ends, but to find a way to the other side before it does. To prop open the door before it can be locked. To tie a suture before the fatal wound is made. To let in the moonlight before the sun is allowed to rise.

Alchemy, the masters teach, is the process of linking the spiritual to the material. The alchemist is the bridge between the worlds. It is a process of working inside a mirror, knowing always that in the end, the part will reflect the whole. As inside, so outside.

A word is a bridge. It is a wave of light and sound that spans the perceived distance between one thing and another.

In the beginning was the word. And the word was split into infinity. All words, then, are part of the whole. Just as we are each part of the whole. There are individual words, as we are individual beings. Each word carries with it the memory of the whole logos. Just as we each carry the memory of the whole universe.

The ears are the eyes of the dark, as the stars are the eyes of the night sky.

You move into the darkness, wrapping it around you like a heavy cloak. You dive into it naked like a midnight swim, slip beneath its covers and invite it to envelope you, as a dream. You lose yourself in the richness of its mysteries. You start to become the darkness. It starts to become you.

To be human is to be whole, but to fail to see this wholeness.