In the not-too-distant future, an ancient storyteller dressed in a flowing robe exits his cozy cottage and walks toward the center of camp where his tribe awaits him. A home-cooked meal resting pleasantly in his belly, the storyteller hears the sound of laughter coming from the circle around the fire, which lights up the wintry night like a beckoning lighthouse, calling the storyteller to join the tribe.
He approaches slowly, however, for he wants to savor the Moment and allow the tribe their mirth before he begins his tale. He stops and looks up at the sky, noting Jupiter and Saturn moving ever closer together for another Great Conjunction and he appreciates his deep feeling of connection with these superpowers in the sky.
At last, he reaches the fire and takes his place in the circle, feeling the comfort of the crackling fire warm his old bones, keeping the chilly February air at bay and, in a deep, full voice, he begins to tell the evening’s tale.
“Imagine: We are looking through the eyes of an eagle swirling above a mountain, mighty and majestic, reaching up through the clouds, partially lit by a moon shaped like an eyelid in the sky. Something on the mountain moves, we swoop down for a closer look and we see a beautiful, strong, courageous woman slowly moving down the mountain.
Closer in we see a tear streaming down her face and as we screech an acknowledgment, she looks up.
In that Moment, we become her.
There’s a hole in our heart that’s momentarily filled by the glorious eagle greeting us from above and after we smile back at it, it screeches again and flies off into the dark, cold night.
She’s been going down the mountain for 39 days and 39 nights and she’s made a promise to herself: one more full day and night and if we don’t see him, on the 41st day we must move on. After all, one can only move backward so far to be with another before one must begin one’s ascent again.