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The voice of the sea is seductive; never ceasing, whispering, clamoring, murmuring, inviting the soul to wander for a spell in abysses of solitude; to lose itself in mazes of inward contemplation.The voice of the sea speaks to the soul. The touch of the sea is sensuous, enfolding the body in its soft, close embrace.
                                                                          - The Awakening, Kate Chopin 1899

Sub- a Latin prefix meaning “under”, “below”, or “less than”
Mer – French term for the sea, used in compounds such as “mermaid”

The sea is a common metaphor for the subconscious mind. They are the first, the source-of-all and the largest portion of our world, both inner and outer.
We come from water; it is our first home, where we breath and dream and remember, before forgetting all to begin anew.
But it is all still there, in the murky, unexplored depths of our subconscious; beneath.
Buried under the detritus of everyday, the dam we build to hold back anything we aren’t ready to face.

When I meditate, it is always the sea I return to. I float on the water, gently bobbing.
It is warm and the night sky is filled with 10 million stars.
Below me, I can feel the weight of the water. There is no threat that it will suck me under, but the pull is there. The depth is palpable.
And there are things, creatures. But they, too, pose no harm.
I bob on the gentle swell…

There is a stream next to an apple blossom tree where I bathe.
Sometimes I sit on the bank and let the water rush around my feet, other times I lie down and let the current caress my body. It cleanses me and I throw my unwanted thoughts like dead leaves into the water to be washed out to sea.

And when I dream, there is water.
Pools, fountains, baths, oceans. Overflowing and puddles; clear and dark, shallow and deep.
And when I swim, I can breathe the water. It flows into my lungs easily and naturally and it is the most wondrous experience.
When I wake up, I am devastated. It takes days to recover from the extreme sense of loss I feel.


I am a symbolist; a ritualist;
seeking out patterns, reason, meaning,
even in Chaos.

I am fascinated by the unknown, the unquantifiable, unprovable.
Mythology, folklore, religion,
the esoteric, mystical, spritual,
philosophy, ethics, beauty.
Sweet, sweet brain candy.

From a young age, I devoured anything and everything I could on these subjects, lining my world with shelves full of books old and new, pictures and words,
all the time building an intricate framework to support my inner reality. A reality that is constantly evolving, expanding and contracting as I ceaselessly feed it new input.

Above all else, I am visual.

I feast with my eyes. Beauty sustains me, knowledge drives me.
I am a glutton and it is time to put down the fork,
to turn inward and face the Abyss.

Time to listen to the voice that has been screaming for attention for uncountable years and find the Core.
I foresee no small amount of destruction, but whatever is no longer needed or useful has to go. And out of the rubble and the ruins perhaps I will emerge cleaner, simpler; refined and defined.

So I take a deep breath and dive into the depths.


I’ve been poked and prodded and tested in every way since early childhood.
It is lucky then that I love systems, typing, classifications, analyzations. But I do not view them as definites or limitations or boxes to sit quietly in and behave myself.
They are tools; starting points to understanding; thought-triggers. It’s all just a giant game of connect-the-dots to me!

And so the Sorting Hat says:

Cancerian
Fire Dragon, inner summer fire horse, secret dog
Type 5 with a strong 6 wing
Oak & apple
INTP (graduated from INTJ sometime in the last 4 years)
Queen of Swords (INTP)
(HIGH) DC – the Creative
Visual/Spatial Intelligence
Architect
Discoverer
Scanner, all the way!
93% openess, 35% conscientiousness, 15% extraversion, 10% agreeableness, 66% neuroticism
Interdimensional Indigo
Green, with orange tendencies
42.6% blue, 38.2% red

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