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The World doesn’t move for you, all by itself. You must move it toward the direction you’d like it to go. With care, delicately, as with a feather fan.  Just as you might, with your own skill and strength, move the air itself to refresh your skin, your breath, your life.

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Fan made possibly in France of Pilet feathers, early 20th Century, collection of Philadelphia Museum of Art

In Clarimonde’s a-mortal long life, time is divided into chapters. There are the layers of associations she’s made, her hopes, the realities of history.  Pragmatism and romance in unequal parts, folded together to shape the message, like an origami. Will it resolve into clarity, create a shape?

What do the signs say?

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Photo via 365daysofHalloween.tumblr.com

For spells of time, there is no direction. All is dormant, observant, careful, two steps forward, one step back. Sometimes two steps back. Time and events move with twists and turns shaped by thirsts and focus. There is the search for love and communication,  justice and validation, and the need to know the truth.

Sometimes the signs that matters are moving in the wrong direction are true. Those are the times we hope our intuition is wrong, that the twists of time passing and all the varied push and pull of events that continually converge will influence the outcome and pull us back from the brink of setback or disaster.

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Anna Pavlova considers the cards

Consider Clarimonde, her belief in the beauty and beneficial force of her love keep her aiming for the purest and most generous mutuality.  Every effort so far has failed. Even the saintly Roumauld pushed her back inside a coffin with a stake through her heart out of misguided fear. His regrets come too late.

Yet she wants to keep on, even if by a thread. Go forward, and wait for the possibilities that may open a new path when the next time comes. Grace and dignity and hope require patience and a smile.

Required most of all is to dwell on the beauty of the details of life as it unfolds.

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“Mortimer Offner (b. 1900) – Lisa’s Arms, c.1924”

Amor Fati. Eternal Recurrence. Acceptance and contentment in the repetitions of life. In her immense life, in your short life, in all its details, even through eternity. Most importantly, holding on to the force of love and passion within yourself, and perhaps in others. In the infinite possibilities, and the unexpected.

Perfumes to read by: Woodland Iris by The Exotic Island Perfumer, Dragonfly by Zoologist, Nectars des Îles by Envoyage Perfumes — all composed by Juan M. Perez, one of my favorite indie perfumers. I have come to see him as the embodiment of equanimity through devotion to his innately beautiful native island of Puerto Rico.

Further interpretation of Amor Fati:

A poem by Sandra Lim

Please open and read the above live links in color, because there’s always more behind the scenes. They may serve to reveal new facets of original and fresh beauties that soothe and open the heart. Even within our current atmosphere of uncertainty and stress.

Photos above are as credited in captions.

Copyright 2018, Lucy Raubertas, All Rights Reserved.