Today is the official launch of my first book, The Heart of the Labyrinth. It has been a labor of love and deep journeys into the mind and the world, and I want to share a brief extract with you. A poetic piece that I particularly like, inspired by a night I spent a long long time ago, in a land far, far away…
Excerpt from Chapter IX
Willakuti: The Return of the Sun
Saywa – “In the depth of the night, I arrived at the ruins. There was no moon and the sky was adorned with crisp stars twinkling through the icy cold of the vast plains. The Southern Cross magnificently parted the sky, right above the extensive temple grounds. A small group of men and women sat around a fire, most of them dressed in ceremonial clothing. They welcomed me in my native language and invited me to join them. I walked up the few steps leading into the main precinct and stopped before the eerie silhouettes of the ancient monoliths stoically holding on to their secrets, defying the passing of time. I marveled at the mysterious gate of the sun, a chiseled stone arch dancing in the glow of the crackling flames. It seemingly invited us to step into another dimension and leave behind all limitations imposed by our delusional minds.
More and more people kept coming throughout the night, drawn by a mysterious pull they could neither explain nor understand. They had simply followed their bodies, gathering around our fire with the unspoken faith of those who know they are about to witness something spectacular. I did not see them, but felt the growing human presence around me, and the bubbling energy of joint anticipation. My eyes were closed. As the fire slowly burned to the ground, I sat absorbed by the process of my purification from the past, shedding layer after layer of confusion, being led effortlessly into the deep dark void of pure creative potential. There, surrendered to the longest and blackest of nights, in the silent circle of our prayers, we waited. We waited for the return of the light.
Time stopped. There was no movement, no breath, no sign of life. Only the intense cold and the mute indifference of the stones mocking our impatience in the face of eternity. We held the void with all our courage, willing to hold it forever, trusting life to spring forth once again from the creative miracle of our minds. …”