Yesterday I got accepted into my first market! It's a little one here in Albuquerque, yet to me it feels like the biggest.
I have a really gigantic mountain to climb, and I feel like the last several years I've been scouting it, trying to figure out how I'm going to be able to do it. Now, I can leave my camp and begin the early steps.
Nature, in its ever amazing mirroring, feels like a brutal cold mountain outside this morning—snow is spiraling sky high from winds bending the trees. I once stood on a mountain at the top of the world and one of my eagle-visioned dreams is that I stand there again, a circle complete from all the things that I offered to the wind that day.
These photos are from atop Helglafell, Holy Mountain, in Iceland, a place people—"heathens" and Christians alike—have been going to perform a certain praying ritual for nearly 1,000 years to speak with their gods. I was told, by an elder man in the village below, of the certain way to climb the mountain and what I must do there. I thanked him and walked out into the wind on my pilgrimage along the well worn path.
My tortoise spirit-stuck in mud Taurus ascendant-Saturn & Pluto all up in everything-self is thrilled over moving this significant boulder. Instead of rolling it up the mountain, though, I'd like to crack it with the hammer of the gods and with all of the little pieces I shall make glittering jewels!
