My dreaming self wanders the corridors of a mall, looking at storefronts and taking in the multitude of options. There is a bookstore with a “going out of business” sale. I step inside.
I sit on the floor in front of the store’s graphic novel section. A little boy and his mother approach and stand between me and the shelves. The boy looks me in the eyes, and I say hello. I know this boy from somewhere. In reply, he puts his right index finger to his lips in a gesture of silence.
The boy is Horus, an avatar of the Divine Androgynous Child. He is Original Self: broad, undivided, a union of opposites, a field of undifferentiated possibility. He is the aspect of me that has yet to be defined, the Void from which all possibilities are made manifest, and the Void to which they return. He heralds existential freedom, renewal and rebirth.
I have done it a thousand times: I give up old ideas, old emotions, old versions of self, to make way for the new…. The store will soon be empty, I will become one with Horus, and I will have embarked again from the existential void-point to new destinations.
The boy and his mother walk on. I pick up a graphic novel which is a miniaturized reprint of an old story. Rather than shrink the images down to fit the new paper size, the publisher opted to zoom way in on the images. On any given page, the images are cropped, and the details that ran off the page are missing. It is difficult to even tell what is going on.
The message is obvious: I must step back and take a Big Picture perspective. I am locking in on insignificant details, and in doing so missing the overall meaning of my experiences. Step back. Let go.
I step back, identify (as) the Void. Shhhh. Silence.