Who Am I, Really?

Old stones. Very very old. Thousands of years. One of the world’s great kings, mostly never even heard of in the West: Krishnadevaraya. He built thousands (literally) of structures at a place called Hampi. If you believe in magic, then there is a great place to experience it. I did.

This structure was next to the river at Hampi. It was hot, and humid. The shade and the air around the stones gave us a little relief. Magic sometimes works in strange ways, ways the mind cannot always fathom, let alone recognize.

Yet somehow we want to believe. And sometimes we choose to listen rather to the linear constructs of our mind which may tell us that magic is for children who don’t know any better, or for adults who likely don’t have a firm grip on “reality.” And so it goes, our relationship to the supernatural. Sometimes we may dismiss the notion, sometimes we may be moved in life changing ways by it. Irregardless of our mind’s opinions, the old stones and the age old questions remain: who am I, really, where am I going, really, and what is my purpose, really?

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