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Thought of the Week Archives
August 2000
August 7, 1998
Some nights, when I'm sailing far from land, the horizon ceases to
be. At such times the ocean appears to curve smoothly up and over like
a great dark bubble bursting with stars. I feel I've blundered back into
a realm that maintains the foundations of another dimension of astral
immensity. It stretches me until the tatters of my mental sails fly free
upon the waves and the invisible winds. It seems that I myself no longer
exist as a functioning ego, although still physically present. For me,
this rare experience hints at what our common ancestors must have felt
while reciting, listening, singing, dramatizing, and dancing out the primal
myths.
No wonder myth eludes definition. It's not something we can isolate
for a close look. The primal myths are built into our brains, our genes,
and our blood. However distant they may seem, they still surround, embrace,
imbue, and color human consciousness.
- Alexander Eliot,
The Universal Myths (p. 2)
August 14
August 21
August 28
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