The First Circle Was Not A Circle At All…
It was an uroburos, head bite-touching the origin of its tail for just an archetypal nano-split second until that quark of an archetype embedded itself within just as quickly to disappear to become... a circle with no beginning and no end... with mystery intact living within it. Drawing a circle with a compass slowly is like... is like unfolding a watch's movements gears stretching their stationary orbiting to slow-slingshot outwards while still engaged becoming time-telling fractalled facets not infinite facets on a finite sphere as they shift focus and redirect scale in a constantly continuous manner consistently such as when drawing a perfect circle by hand without a compass for to draw a perfect circle one must be able to dancingly integrate the circular branch nature of the relatedness of things even if simply related by adjacency or infinity of non sequitur so as not to distract the focus of the drawing of a perfect circle in one continuous stroke as a perfect circle is composed of an infinite number of mini-chord lengths each just longer than a point while changing direction continuously. That is the alleged difficulty of drawing a perfect circle by hand sans compass being comfortable enough with planning to be able to be even more comfortable with the forgetting for getting within and about to orbit in a naturally moving not-knowing conscious of the feeling though again transcending the step-off-the-path-never-stepping-off-the-path of the circular branch simply having the circular branch integrated as dog-eared and well-worn experience being comfortable enough with planning to be able to be even more comfortable with the forgetting for getting within and about to orbit in a naturally moving not-knowing living right in the tip of the pencil tough again transcending the steps of the circular branch to dance continuously changing direction naturally always changing direction naturally moving The circle may have no beginning and no end once it is drawn or drafted or delineated or rendered. While drawing it, though, whether with a compass or freehand infinity naturally dwells in the feelingsense of the action prefiguring the nano-split second uroburos archetype to quark in and then embed within the chthonic reaches of it each and every time a circle is drawn. Do it long enough and simply thinking about your compass will do it. I can call the Self, Chthonic Numinosity. I can call it The Temple in (Wo)Man. The Temple of (Wo)Man. Neverminding that pedant statement The first circle was not a circle at all. It was an arced freehand line completing itself, a curved compass line touching its beginning to overlap with seamless segue where no knowing was required, and the very act of lead passing over onto its own lead arced-line origins, formed knowing as the head of the snake as it touch-bit its tail becoming an archetypal figure that disappeared just as fast within itself as it moved inside the line as chthonic heartbeat full and pure in the unconscious depths Shadow lands, living as mystery within, a fitting resident for the darkness. The first circle was not a circle at all when the inner journey of The Hermit opened his eyes to unfurl and sail on the mysteries as he noticed his first steps and fully engaged the big picture by focusing so intensely on the detail that time dilated to be so big and so there as to disappear and birth an archetype in the aftershock of the moment of The Hermit noticing his feet meeting The Wheel. And, another day the serpent within squirmed and twisted over. The aftershocks of the inner movement twisted the circle, twisted the circle into infinity, and the lemniscate was formed. And, you thought drawing with a compass was just going in circles. Ha! It is why I like Grand Prix F1 over Indy. I like to do more than turn left all day. Oh, enjoy that factually fractally faceted circular branch. And, draw a circle slowly a million times. At least take out your compass and draw several circles slowly while fascinating your self with the curved arc continuously changin direction and especially the place where the lead touching the paper touches its beginning. I guess that going to the office to draft my own plans for decades actually served a purpose. I got a single blog out of it. I rather like that. Hidden within that, though, is a blessing... the blessing of drawing circles by hand and with a compass as a guide for 3.1 decades. This thought was always in there. This thought was always in there, and I was conscious of it every time. It was in there both consciously and unconsciously rattling around in there rattling around as my temples flexed knowing something was there and simply Hermit to Wheel experiencing it... until today I hadn't written it down. Strange how deadlines met are met yet still take idea-casualties. Plus, when drawing a circle with a compass, you don't punctuate the arc while doing so. Breath does that for you. And, there's your rationale for me waiting to start punctuating this until I made drew the circle. When drawing a circle with a compass, you don't punctuate the arc while doing so, until you have, and then you do. It's called dimensioning. Center location. Radius dimension. Angle of arc if not a full circle. Try it. Be aware of your breath while scribing a circle with a compass. You might want to practice first, though, by patting your head while rubbing your tummy. Have a great one! Scribe ON!
The Circle was born when…
Circle was born for all time timelessly without beginning or end at that point in time hidden in the compass swinging the arc when the curved line touches and lead passes over its own Self lead origins…. at which point in time The Hermit, becoming aware of his steps and seeing his first steps and the familiar surroundings differently, meets The Wheel… at which point in time The Hermit meets The Wheel.
And Hermit to Wheel, 9 to 10, uroburically births an IDENTITY
That’s it for today. Ciao for now. Till next time.
Oh, Identity. The uroburos. Let identity be embedded, though don’t let it disappear. I really should come up with a relevant card for this uroburos and identity thingamabobbadoodle… OH! Silly me.
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