January 12, 1980
Impenetrable mystery. Dark, impassible forest. Blow, wild wind-god—shaking the trees to their roots—swinging back and forth, rippling, swaying, like a crowd of long-haired spirit women nodding their heads. Warm winter earth energy. A night for love.
Who am I, that these thoughts, feelings come pouring out of me? The room is quiet, the candle burns, occasional car outside, life goes on.
Now I must find my own way, alone, but always carrying with me the gift, the knowledge—the light. I saw the light, the divine dream. I let it in, let it transform me, take me. I paid for this knowledge, always will pay. But I survived, I will survive.
It is a mission. To live this out. Who I am, who I may become, is the answer.