It sometimes feels as if the world is getting a little… crazy.
But perhaps it has always been this way.
I was recently reading a journal entry written nearly 4,000 years ago -around 2000 BC- by an ancient Egyptian man in dialogue with his Ba (a concept close to what we might call the soul).
Apparently, this is not new. We have been wrestling with life, in conversation with our inner self, for a very long time.
For a moment, I felt less alone… perhaps even less “weird.”
In his writing, the man laments the state of the world. He is in deep despair, unable to see any goodness left in life. The dialogue he records is an almost heroic attempt to make sense of suffering, and to find a reason to keep going.
What is striking, though, is the response of his Ba.
It does not soothe or comfort him. It offers something closer to tough love.
His Ba asks:
What do you gain by dwelling on your life in this way?
“You are drifting.
You are not in control of yourself.”
It reminds him that this is not truly living.
“For your own sake, listen to me.
Behold, it is good when people listen!
Seek happy days and forget your care.”
Then his Ba tells him a story:
A peasant had loaded his harvest onto a boat, ready to sail. As he prepared to depart, he saw a dark storm approaching. So he stayed watch, anxious, alert, consumed by fear of what might come.
All day and night, he remained fixated on the storm.
Meanwhile, he failed to notice the crocodiles in the river, quietly devouring his wife and children.
By the time he realized, it was too late.
Ba reveals a painful and timeless truth:
When we become consumed by fear, tasks, or imagined threats, we can lose sight of what truly matters.
And often, we only recognize what was precious… when it is already gone.
“Lay your complaining aside, my companion,” Ba tells him.
“Make offerings at the altar.
Struggle for your life.
Love me - here and now.”
Perhaps this ancient voice is reminding us of something simple, yet difficult:
That even in a broken world, life is still asking us to be present to what is alive within and around us.
But how do we love the here and now
when the here and now feels heavy, uncertain, or even dark?
Maybe love begins not by denying reality,
but by refusing to abandon what is still alive within it.
By noticing.
By tending.
By choosing, again and again, to remain in relationship with life.
In our upcoming Storytellers & Alchemists meetup on April 5th, we step into the Valley of Love, the second stage of our Seven Valleys journey.
Here, love is not just a feeling.
It is a force that sustains the journey.
Perhaps we can take Ba’s advice,
to love ourselves a little more as we struggle through life.
Not in a self-indulgent way, but in a caring, compassionate way.
And sometimes, yes… with a touch of necessary toughness to pull us out of despair.
In our gathering, we will explore gentle self-care practices.
We will take inventory of our blessings, our joys, and our passions,
what keeps us going,
what makes life meaningful and alive,
even when everything around us feels uncertain.
If you are not yet part of our community, you are warmly invited to join us HERE.
We meet on Zoom the first Sunday of every month.
Our gatherings are live and not recorded,
because something essential happens when we are fully present with one another.
In a hyper-technological world, real human connection is easily lost,
replaced by the virtual and the artificial,
which may simulate presence,
but cannot carry a soul.
A true Ba lives in relationship,
in presence, in listening, in shared breath and story.
And perhaps that is what we are reclaiming, together.
I hope to see you there.
But perhaps it has always been this way.
I was recently reading a journal entry written nearly 4,000 years ago -around 2000 BC- by an ancient Egyptian man in dialogue with his Ba (a concept close to what we might call the soul).
Apparently, this is not new. We have been wrestling with life, in conversation with our inner self, for a very long time.
For a moment, I felt less alone… perhaps even less “weird.”
In his writing, the man laments the state of the world. He is in deep despair, unable to see any goodness left in life. The dialogue he records is an almost heroic attempt to make sense of suffering, and to find a reason to keep going.
What is striking, though, is the response of his Ba.
It does not soothe or comfort him. It offers something closer to tough love.
His Ba asks:
What do you gain by dwelling on your life in this way?
“You are drifting.
You are not in control of yourself.”
It reminds him that this is not truly living.
“For your own sake, listen to me.
Behold, it is good when people listen!
Seek happy days and forget your care.”
Then his Ba tells him a story:
A peasant had loaded his harvest onto a boat, ready to sail. As he prepared to depart, he saw a dark storm approaching. So he stayed watch, anxious, alert, consumed by fear of what might come.
All day and night, he remained fixated on the storm.
Meanwhile, he failed to notice the crocodiles in the river, quietly devouring his wife and children.
By the time he realized, it was too late.
Ba reveals a painful and timeless truth:
When we become consumed by fear, tasks, or imagined threats, we can lose sight of what truly matters.
And often, we only recognize what was precious… when it is already gone.
“Lay your complaining aside, my companion,” Ba tells him.
“Make offerings at the altar.
Struggle for your life.
Love me - here and now.”
Perhaps this ancient voice is reminding us of something simple, yet difficult:
That even in a broken world, life is still asking us to be present to what is alive within and around us.
But how do we love the here and now
when the here and now feels heavy, uncertain, or even dark?
Maybe love begins not by denying reality,
but by refusing to abandon what is still alive within it.
By noticing.
By tending.
By choosing, again and again, to remain in relationship with life.
In our upcoming Storytellers & Alchemists meetup on April 5th, we step into the Valley of Love, the second stage of our Seven Valleys journey.
Here, love is not just a feeling.
It is a force that sustains the journey.
Perhaps we can take Ba’s advice,
to love ourselves a little more as we struggle through life.
Not in a self-indulgent way, but in a caring, compassionate way.
And sometimes, yes… with a touch of necessary toughness to pull us out of despair.
In our gathering, we will explore gentle self-care practices.
We will take inventory of our blessings, our joys, and our passions,
what keeps us going,
what makes life meaningful and alive,
even when everything around us feels uncertain.
If you are not yet part of our community, you are warmly invited to join us HERE.
We meet on Zoom the first Sunday of every month.
Our gatherings are live and not recorded,
because something essential happens when we are fully present with one another.
In a hyper-technological world, real human connection is easily lost,
replaced by the virtual and the artificial,
which may simulate presence,
but cannot carry a soul.
A true Ba lives in relationship,
in presence, in listening, in shared breath and story.
And perhaps that is what we are reclaiming, together.
I hope to see you there.
RSS Feed
