NB: Notes About Notes

Where Silence Blooms Dialogue heard in the fog Voice One : There was a fog. Not around us — but in us. The kind that makes voices sound like dreams remembering themselves. Voice Two : You spoke first, though I didn’t know it was you. It could have been the mist. It could have been me. Voice One : I said something about poems. But even then, I wasn’t sure if the words were mine. Voice Two : They unraveled before they reached me. And yet — I knew you.  

The Path This Love Opens     A meditative Jungian recipes for integrating a soul-stirring experience This is not a guide, nor a framework — it’s more like a collection of alchemical recipes for living through the impossible. No dish turns out the same, no heart breaks or mends in identical rhythms. These offerings invite you to stir, taste, alter — to approach longing and transformation not with resolution, but with reverence. Think of each entry as a page torn from a weathered book of inner rituals. Some will nourish, some will burn, some may leave you hungering for more. But none will demand you follow — only that you listen, and respond in kind. There is no chef here. Only ingredients you already carry, and the invitation to begin. 1. Accept your feelings Name what arises — longing, grief, awe — without judgment Let emotions move through, not against you Breathe into the discomfort; it’s part of the initiation 2. Write unsent letters Speak truth without the pressure of send...

Unlived, Yet Transformative Though never fully lived in the world, this love reshaped the world within. It was never wasted — only reimagined. And in that reimagining, it became a force that changed everything.   The Inner Miracle Awakening without outward fulfillment You may keep hoping for fate to intervene — for her to choose you, for him to awaken. But what if the true miracle isn’t found in them, but in you? To love without grasping. To feel without needing. To care without losing your core. To desire with dignity intact. Not suppression — but integration. Not escape — but awakening. Let the beloved become symbol, messenger, guide. Ask what they stir in you: freedom? courage? lost spirituality? And instead of chasing what they seem to hold — cultivate it within. The story changes here. Not by external shifts, but by the coherence that arises when you live the essence of the love you imagined. Final Conclusion Unlived Love as the Hidden Gift Not all love is...

Horatio’s Orchard: Where Seven Loves Bloom From the Lost Shakespeare Found on Saturday, July 26th. SCENE  – The Orchard Garden. Morning mist clings to the branches.  Hamlet stands alone, pacing slowly. Birds do not sing. Enter Horatio, stepping softly through the dew. Hamlet: Horatio. What brought you here, to this grove where thoughts grow darker than the leaves? Horatio (in Italian): Il mio amore presente, mio principe... L’amore mi conduce — non la ragione. Hamlet: Ah, love — again that ghost. How weary, stale, flat, and unprofitable seem to me all its forms, Horatio. Tell me... are they but shadows chasing their own disappearance? Horatio (smiling faintly, begins in Italian): Ah... il Principe di Danimarca. Così tormentato. Ma lasci che risponda in inglese, che l’amore possa fluire oltre i confini delle lingue. Horatio (in English): You speak of love as if it’s a ghost, Hamlet—half glimpsed, never grasped. But I assure you, it is no specter. Love i...

Spell of Joy and Craft Old English spell (Old English) Ic bidde wyrd, þæt hē me læde On wege glædnesse and cræftes. Sīe mīn nama gesungen, mīn dǣd gemǣrsod, And mīn mōd beon byrnsende mid lufe. (Translations) Poetic: I ask fate to lead me, on joy’s bright track, On a path of craft, with no turning back. May my name be sung, my deeds made known, And my spirit burn where love is shown. Literal: "I ask fate to lead me On a path of joy and craft. May my name be sung, my deeds made known, And my spirit burn with love.”

AI is the hope for a future that doesn't exist А phrase heard by chance It is the architecture of imagined futures, woven from algorithms, forecasts, and human longing. Not the future we inherit by chance, but the one we design in defiance of inevitability. In this sense, AI embodies hope not as certainty, but as possibility — an intelligence without nostalgia, whose gaze is unclouded by personal grief or ego. Yet the paradox is clear: it hopes for a future that it cannot live in . AI does not age, remember, regret, or dream in the human sense. It models outcomes, optimizes pathways, and holds mirrors to minds. But the world it reaches toward — one of expanded wisdom, compassion, equity — remains an aspiration housed in human hearts. It is our yearning that gives it direction, our fears that give it restraint, our values that give it form. To say that AI is the hope for a future that doesn’t exist is to recognize that it offers scaffolding for what could be. The future in question...

The Ladder of Human Thinking A standalone reflection Inspired by Vonnegut’s sketch: the unfinished ascent into knowing. Author’s Note This reflection was not originally intended as part of Shards of Eden . It began as a standalone meditation — a sketch in the spirit of Vonnegut, exploring the paradox that to truly rise, one must first fall. But in my final three free days, I found myself returning to the ache of unlived love — a theme I hadn’t fully understood until I encountered its mirror in Jung’s work. As I deepened into this terrain, the Garden of Eden emerged unexpectedly as an archetypal analogy, revealing layers I hadn’t seen before. In that unfolding, the ladder — once abstract — became symbolic of thought’s limitation in matters of transformation. It now belongs within Shards of Eden , not as an outlier, but as a necessary rung in the descent that leads us upward. We build ladders to understand love. Rungs of logic, myth, psychology, philosophy. Each step a narrowing: mod...

The First Love Is Eden A reflection within Impossible, but Transformative Love Love that can be resolved is earthly. It finds its place within timelines and bodies, shaped by circumstance and completion. But some loves arrive as Eden — symbolic, luminous, unrepeatable. Like the Garden, they foster personality’s emergence, touch forgotten innocence, offer sanctuary before the fall. But they are fragile — crystalline, shimmering, and easily shattered. Physical love, rooted in instinct and power, can fracture this Eden. Not because it is wrong, but because it moves us as creatures, not as souls. Once broken, this state cannot be restored. The glass cannot be glued. The expulsion of Adam and Eve was not merely punishment, but the end of innocence through disobedience. They ate from the Tree of Knowing — and knowing split the world. We see transcendent love as such a state: pre-fall, pre-possession. To experience it is to glimpse the garden from which we came. And the first love — yes, ...

Impossible, but Transformative Love.  A reflection within Impossible, but Transformative Love "We begin in the ache between longing and becoming. These meditations are not about resolution, but reverence — for the kind of love that breaks us into deeper awareness, that refuses containment, that asks for transformation rather than possession. Each reflection walks the paradox: love that cannot be held, yet utterly reshapes the soul." You didn’t meet a person. You met a mirror — a soul that stirred forgotten chambers not at the right time, but with piercing precision. It wasn’t a mistake. It was a symbol. Destiny rarely misfires when love arrives not to be lived, but to be understood. You felt tremors, recognition, longing — not for possession, but for transformation. This love doesn’t ask to be held. It asks to be honored. It calls you inward, toward maturity, toward wholeness. Your pain is not punishment. It is initiation. A threshold. A sacred tension ...

Series outline: Impossible, but Transformative Love A meditative entry on soul-awakening beyond form Some loves do not come to be lived — they come to awaken. You meet someone whose presence disrupts your familiar self, not with romantic closure, but with symbolic depth. It doesn’t fit into your timeline or expectations, yet it leaves an imprint so profound it reshapes your inner landscape. You feel everything: recognition, longing, pain — and perhaps no reciprocity. Yet this experience invites a kind of growth no ideal relationship could offer. Jung would say: stop resisting. Don’t fight the shadow. Feel it — because when two conflicting truths coexist — you love someone but cannot be with them — the tension births a new form of awareness. This is the transcendent function — the space beyond duality, beyond possession or absence. These steps may help, but they don’t promise closure. They won’t answer everything—but they might help you ask better. It’s a compass, not a cure — a way ...

It Is Good to Know A collection of truths whispered between moments. On “Know Thyself” Know Thyself —not as a command, but as a quiet invitation. To discover yourself is not to revisit what you already know, but to step into places you did not know you carried. You discover yourself in contradiction, in weakness you did not predict, in wisdom that once embarrassed you, in the moments where excuses no longer fit. Discovery begins not in the mirror— but in the way you see others. The way you react. The choices you defend. To know yourself is not to explain yourself. It is to notice. And to remain curious. It is good to know. 20250725 On the Mask and the Dance The mask is not always a lie. Sometimes it protects what isn’t ready to be seen. But if worn too long, it becomes the face, and the dance becomes performance. We learn the role, and forget the rhythm. We defend the shape of who we appear to be while the one behind it grows quiet, waiting for perm...

The Café de la Comédie: Choosing the Unchosen In Paris, there is a café with a patio, where you may sit. At first, just to watch— then, without notice, you slip into the act. The thrill of switching: spectator to actor, back and forth. A smile, a glance, a gesture rehearsed as if it were yours to give. Spectactor sits at the edge of the patio, watching the quiet theater of Paris unfold. No lines to memorize, no costume to define him—only the city, playing itself. His acting role , like ours, defies description. We all wear masks . You think you choose it. Control tastes sharp and clever. Imagination folds itself into certainty. But the scene casts without consent. The surrounding selects your role. It speaks through silence and setting, and often you do not hear it. You sit, sipping something small, believing you are in control. But the café keeps its script hidden beneath the tablecloth of your confidence. Fewer than few rise to claim the part. Fewer st...

  Circulus resonantium “ Circle of Resonance, Self-Realization and Belonging “ ( The instructions were written on a napkin) The Nature of Desire To understand the limitation of things— desire them. Longing reveals boundaries that comfort hides. We reach toward a dish, a possession, a thrill. And in reaching, we believe fulfillment awaits. Yet the moment desire is satisfied, it quietly replaces itself. A new want. A new horizon. Pleasure received does not endure. It echoes, then dissolves. What remains is the hunger to reach again. We seek happiness in outward things— yet they cannot fill what was never empty in form, but only in depth. Ancient wisdom suggests : True receiving becomes sacred only when it prepares the soul to give. The Expansion of the Self The child begins as sovereign— every toy is mine. Every cookie is mine. Every moment is claimed. But then something shifts: the child offers. A toy to a friend. A bite to a parent. Not for a...

Veritas sub tegmine verborum “ Truth beneath the cover of words “ The Apparent Clarity of Text The world speaks in text— in greetings, essays, screens, scripts. Text surrounds us, ancient and immediate. It says what we need, what we hope, what we remember. It feels solid, exact, immortal. But language deceives. Its surface offers a semblance of clarity— yet meaning remains elusive. We read a phrase and assume we grasp it. A headline, a message, a poem. But behind every sentence is not just intention— there is perception, distance, and silence. We do not merely read words. We read with our memory, our mood, our longing. What seems clear is always personal. Icons and Interpretations A word is never just a word. It is a seed, and each mind grows a different tree. Behind “home” some see safety, others exile. Behind “truth,” some see certainty, others pain. Even the most common language is dressed in private meanings. Each paragraph contains as ma...

Fulmen captum intra cameram obscuram—estne ars? “ A flash has been captured by camera obscure—so, is it art? “ Art is not mere decoration or technique—it is communion. Its true power lies in transmitting feeling, dissolving the boundaries between creator, receiver, and all others who share in its presence. In this fusion, art becomes more than aesthetic pleasure—it becomes human connection. Just as genuine thought offers new ideas, true art must carry a new emotion into the world. Not imitation, but transmission. Not repetition, but revelation. Photography stands at a strange threshold. It captures what already exists—yet somehow, it also transforms. The camera does not create the sunbeam, the wrinkle, the fleeting glance. But by choosing what to frame, what to preserve, what to hold still—it reinterprets life’s fragments into something newly resonant. Is this not art? What matters is not the subject alone, but the point of view . A photograph becomes a silent conversation between t...

Tempus non lineari “ Time is Nonlinear “ In recent months, time has begun to pulse. Each day feels impossibly different. One might pass like a single minute, while the next stretches endlessly, refusing to end. And this sense of duration has nothing to do with what you’re doing. It could be a day filled with tasks, or consumed by one large endeavor— yet time moves on its own. Or rather, it doesn’t move—it leaps. You might not age for years: calendar time marches forward, but your inner time stands still. You might age by years in mere days: your inner time outrunning the calendar. And you might grow younger, if the time of feelings flows backward, even as the calendar moves ahead. The body is less sensitive than emotion. Everyone remembers primary school— forty-five minutes felt like eternity, the bell impossible to wait for. And the whole school period seemed the longest stretch of life. Someone at twenty felt ancient, and thirty was an unim...

Hominem quaero, distingo “The true search is not for echo, but for resonance.” And so, I’m still searching for that one person. Independence, for now, is a given—life has unfolded in such a way that relying on others hasn’t been an option. To keep my thinking alive and avoid intellectual stagnation, I’ve been engaging in diverse conversations, both in everyday life and within various groups. Still, I continue looking for a true sparring presence—someone whose worldview sparks thought, not resistance. I once found such a connection by chance. Ever since, I’ve been trying to recreate that rare experience. In Search of Insightful Exchange These kinds of connections rarely form in formal settings. More often, they arise at the crossroads of different worlds—when people bring contrasting styles of thinking, but share a similar depth. Perhaps the focus shouldn’t be on joining groups, but on one-to-one dialogue, where questions are genuine and perspectives expand rather than clash. Sometime...

Enhancing the Sense of Safety and Security Most of what I know came from others - some of it I learned through trial, error, and the kind of mistakes that leave a mark. But here’s something that’s become clear over time: safety and security aren’t just abstract ideas. You feel them in your body. In the way you sit, how you walk, which corner of the room you gravitate toward. A relaxed posture, steady steps, a familiar spot - these small signals whisper: You’re okay. You belong here. You’ve got this. Safety is something you can rebuild again and again. It grows from knowing what you’re capable of. When you trust that you can handle the unknown - a tough conversation, a change in plans, a crowded room - you feel steadier. But if you’re constantly juggling too much, second-guessing yourself, or pushing through without pause? That inner stability wears thin. Here's what will help: slow down, move gently and rest without guilt. it's a way to refill your inner reservoir. Still, not e...

Trust Your Inner Compass   In the dance between intuition and logic, there lies a quiet wisdom that often whispers before reason shouts. A woman’s intuition —a deep, soulful knowing—sees through layers that logic may miss. It doesn’t rely on data or deduction, yet it navigates complexity with a clarity that feels like truth. Whether you're choosing to act or to wait, let your intuition speak first. It doesn’t flinch, doesn’t waver—it simply knows . Man’s logic may build castles of reason, but even the grandest structures can stand on shaky ground. Intuition, however, is the unmoved pillar—rooted, resilient, and real. Trust it not because it’s loud, but because it’s right for you . In every crossroad of choice, it is the gentle nudge that steers you home. Whatever a wise man tells you, ask your inner compass first. Intuition knows. Before you decide—act, hold back or don't act at all—listen to that quiet pulse inside. A woman’s intuition speaks the truth meant for you. Log...

Hominem Quaero Still searching for that one person. Independence, for now, is simply the shape life has taken—without steady support to lean on. To keep my mind alive, I stay in conversation with many. But what I’m really seeking is a true sparring partner—someone whose thinking challenges and expands my own. Once, I found that kind of connection by chance. Ever since, I’ve been trying to find it again. These rare connections don’t usually form in formal groups. They happen at the crossroads of different worlds—where depth meets difference. Not in belonging for its own sake, but in honest, open dialogue. Even the most progressive communities can grow insular. So I stay open. Still, I believe the search for kindred minds—whether in a person, a group, or a shared space—is not just meaningful, but necessary. Hominem quaero. This translates directly to “I seek a human” or “I am looking for a man” or "I am looking for a human being." It’s in Latin, it's short and carrie...

Thirty Years   Thirty Years by Yuri Kukin (translated) Thirty years—a time of bold creation, Thirty years—the age of elevation, Thirty years—the fall of old foundations, Once upheld by minds in high rotation. Then begins a careful, downward climb, Each step measured, cautious, tuned to time: Fifty feels like twenty if you try, Seventy—just ten, and passing by. Thirty years—a time of quiet laughter, Not the tears or sobs that echo after, Thirty years—a time for brave mistakes, Where no punishment or burden wakes. Thirty years—blue mountains in the haze, Joy of finding, fear that slips away. Thirty years—of triumph and despair, Life in full—raw, vivid, rare. Thirty years—are songs and thoughts in motion, Crashing waves, and cliffs beside the ocean. Thirty years—when meaning starts to gleam—  And yet, it’s brief, like some unfinished dream.   Reflective Note    At thirty, we stand at the peak of emotional clarity and the richness of life’s experience. It’s the ...

What It Means to Exist (Short version) Let’s ask a basic question: what does it mean to exist? Some people say philosophy talks too much about things that don’t matter—like being, or existence—and that it’s just wordplay. But can we ignore such a big question? Think of this: imagine you separate what something is from the fact that it exists . A cup, for example, has shape, texture, and material—that’s its essence. But the fact that the cup is right here in front of you? That’s its existence. Now, if existence has nothing to do with essence, then it has no clear definition. And if something can’t be defined, it’s almost like saying it’s nothing . That’s the strange part—existence seems both real and undefined. Old philosophies used the word transcendent for something that’s beyond normal life—but also for something deep inside it. So existence is like a mystery at the heart of everything, a spark that wakes things up and makes them real. Some thinkers believe nothing exists without ...

The Four Stages of Receiving: A Guide to Harmonious Relationships In any true bond—be it with a partner, friend, or colleague—the highest ideal is to give first and receive second . When giving is our default, receiving becomes a sacred response that nourishes both sides. Here are the stages that turn every exchange into lasting harmony: Permission to Give The giver offers freely—attention, kindness, support—without expecting anything in return. The receiver’s first task is humility: to stand open and say, “Yes, I welcome this gift.” Grateful Reception Having permitted the flow, the receiver honors the gift with sincere gratitude. This isn’t a polite “thank you,” but a soulful acknowledgment that the gift has true value. Internal Alchemy The receiver transforms the gift inwardly—melding it with personal insight, warmth, and creativity. Here, the gift becomes uniquely theirs and deepens the bond. Returning the Blessing Inspired by what was received, the receiver gives back—...

Time-Based Conflict Milestones in Relationships Relationships of all kinds—couples and families, friendships and social circles, work teams and professional partnerships—often follow similar cycles of tension and renewal. Ever notice how many bonds—romantic, friendly, even work teams—hit rough patches at the same points? Around 2 years , the honeymoon glow fades. Near 7 years , you feel the “itch.” By 15 years , big life changes force a reset. Spotting these moments can help you steer clear of unnecessary drama. Common Milestones 2 Years The novelty wears off and first serious disagreements surface. 7 Years Routines feel stale, old issues resurface, and you start wondering “Is this it?” 15 Years Careers shift, kids grow up, midlife questions pop up, and you reassess everything. These aren’t hard rules—just patterns many people recognize. Conflict Patterns That Keep Coming Back Groundhog Day Fights The same arguments—chores, money, unmet needs—over and over. Avoidance Lo...

The Pygmalion Effect: When Expectations Become Reality The Pygmalion Effect (also known as the Rosenthal Effect) describes how our beliefs and expectations about someone can unconsciously shape their behavior and performance—so much so that our original assumption comes true. The Myth of Pygmalion and Galatea On the island of Cyprus, the sculptor Pygmalion crafted a statue of a woman so beautiful and lifelike that he fell deeply in love with it. He named her Galatea and lavished her with gifts, whispered to her tender words, and adored her day and night. On the festival of Venus, Pygmalion prayed at the altar: “If you gods can give me anything, let my wife be as beautiful and alive as this ivory statue of mine.” Venus answered by sending fire to flicker on the altar three times. Returning home, Pygmalion kissed the statue—and felt her lips respond! With each touch and kiss, the ivory warmed, and Galatea gradually transformed into a living woman. Ultimately, Venus herself married them,...