My new book

My mother suggested I should combine parts of my own writing with the dictated elements of my father’s memoir.  That makes sense because as it stands there are only fragments, which I will have to work with, without losing sight that they are fragments.

I will work with those then, and perhaps create an illusion of a whole.

My last book lamented that there was no whole, but if a whole is to exist, one must create it out of oneself.  That is shamanism.  And this pertains to shamanic knowledge.

I have to be reconciled with my reality, which is that I really do believe in shamanic knowledge, although the rejection of it by others terrifies me.  How will they make themselves whole?

One is left with broken fragments, otherwise.

Some desire not to be whole, as that is more erotic, they say, but I think this expresses a cynicism toward even the possibility of wholeness.

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