About the Book
All of us live in webs spun long before we were born.
—William Faulkner
At last, in this particular human life, I began to tell my own myth, my own fable, my own fairytale—my story. I had only scratched the surface of my own tale by telling others’ stories; by avoiding the difficulties and the arduous dismantling of my shadow; by the almost intolerable serpents and devils I had encountered that, for a time, had blocked my path—the ones that haunted my dreams, the ones I wept over, the ones I had to sleep with before I could step over them and go on.
My story began long, long before I was born into this body, I’m now certain. Perhaps that was why it has taken me eons of hard world time to begin to tell it. The serpents and devils that have slithered and clanged their tambourines through my days and nights have deep entanglements in my psyche, and, most likely, go beyond even what I can now envision.
About the Book
All of us live in webs spun long before we were born.
—William Faulkner
At last, in this particular human life, I began to tell my own myth, my own fable, my own fairytale—my story. I had only scratched the surface of my own tale by telling others’ stories; by avoiding the difficulties and the arduous dismantling of my shadow; by the almost intolerable serpents and devils I had encountered that, for a time, had blocked my path—the ones that haunted my dreams, the ones I wept over, the ones I had to sleep with before I could step over them and go on.
My story began long, long before I was born into this body, I’m now certain. Perhaps that was why it has taken me eons of hard world time to begin to tell it. The serpents and devils that have slithered and clanged their tambourines through my days and nights have deep entanglements in my psyche, and, most likely, go beyond even what I can now envision.