pomegranate

The caffeine from the drip coffee that my husband brought to me is coursing through the vessels of my brain as I sit here at a glass desk in San Francisco collecting my thoughts after breakfast by a sapphire pool. I have come through a membrane, through some veil of time and space, and I have entered a vast new chapter in my life. There is a crude bamboo xylophone on the table, a paper kimono in a case, and images of black and white rock stars enshrined between curtains on stages on walls. We are on the west coast, and I am newly married. I have been married! I married the wonderful Isaac Koren from Australia and this is my honeymoon. Write on your honeymoon, one might ask? Why does the bird fly south?

While Mr Koren packs our bags before our departure onwards to Big Sur, I feel a space in which to express some of what has recently happened to me. Nothing has changed, and yet everything feels differently. I am now two, as well as one. I was one – just one – with umbilical cords attached to all the other beings and friends and family members that I love. Now I am two, and I feel the shift in my energetic being: Isaac and I are spending almost three weeks together, 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. It’s incredible to find a companion such as this. But I will spare you any honeyed talk. I am free, I am wild, I have ascended a department in the department store. However, I am still (still! It takes as long as it takes..) decompressing and acclimatizing to what in the heavens just happened to me.

There I was, climbing my mountain, walking towards what I thought was some kind of spiritual entity like God, when divine intervention occurred and both the clock and compass in my hand melted instantly. After so many attempts at inviting me to his show at the Rockwood Music Hall in New York City, Isaac succeeded in corralling my attention towards a body of work he had been producing on the Music of the Spheres, or the Cosmology of Music. I was spellbound, obviously, by the word ‘Cosmology’ – knowing me at the time, this was an easy in. Soon enough, we had spent four hours in Housing Works bookstore sharing everything we knew and everything we didn’t know. Soon enough, I lay on the grass in the summertime and told him that I loved him.

Yes, it happened quickly, and I was with another man whom many of you know from my speakings of him. We had gone far enough down the road together, and over three years, that man and I had been attempting to evacuate the structure we had built, which seemed to be beginning to shrink upon us. I likened the ruins of our crumbling relationship to a body on view in a casket, and though it had passed, we were stubborning holding on to it, and thought that perhaps if we put some makeup on this area, it won’t look so decomposed? We pretended, and hid, and forced, and pushed towards various outcomes, while quietly and depressingly living separate lives. This was not true love, and although I loved him dearly, we were not compatible; we were trapped.

Plate XLIX: POMEGRANATE, Punica granatum

The greatest gift we gave to each other, then, was to listen to the winds and to let each other go. The man I had been with for so long had begun to speak ill of me and I of him, we were mean and callous and oftentimes didn’t understand what was happening. In time, now, I have understood that the universal forces of nature work in mysterious ways, and although my old lover didn’t want to say those cruel words to me, something was helping us rip ourselves away from each other. Wherever he is, I know that he is now on his path, for we were not made for each other. He has my blessings.

A massive storm passed through New York last year around early September, a hurricane that had the city up in arms about provisions and batteries and securing windows. Isaac and I had just met, and my heart had ballooned with affection and admiration. Isaac was an angel. He was the one, during my time away from my ex-partner, that I had called for, prayed for, asked for, in my envisioning mind. I had prayed for very specific qualities, and this young Australian man exhibited all of them and more. He anointed and protected me with sage smoke, he brought me to a Happiness Factory, and he fed me lamb and coffee. We danced, we walked the cooling streets of New York’s September, and we fell swiftly in love.

The weekend of the storm, I felt all those crumbling structures from the past brushed and blown away with the rapidly falling water that bucketed from the sky that sacred night. We have been inseparable ever since. Here I am, almost five months later, with two rings on my finger with it’s intravenous connection to the heart, on our honeymoon in the warmth of the west coast. Here I am, still me, yet surrounded by love and support and a sense of incalculably powerful manifestation skills. To meet someone as passionate as me, as interested as me, as en-theos/enthusiastic about life as me, is exhilarating.

The Pahlavi Crown: "There are 3,380 diamonds on the crown, with a total weight of 1,144 carats, the largest of which is the 60-carat yellow diamond."

I am now on the path, the higher path toward the true castle. I walked through the valley of the shadow of my dreams for a long moment – only a blip in time, in the greater scheme of things. I am now soaring, dancing, skipping through the stratosphere of my very existence in a way I didn’t realize was possible before I met Isaac. I am proof that life responds to your words, to your declarations, to your affirmations, and to your resistances and hatreds. I lived through a period of 20 weeks in which all of my wildest dreams came true. Time and space are completely malleable and elastic. Do not give up, and do not worry about faltering. I faltered for three years, wandering and wondering whether ‘this’ (this illusion of the here and now) was all that was available to me, whether it was all that I deserved. Only I knew what I deserved, and only I possessed the feet and the hands and the tenacity with which I could adhere my soul to that dream, to keep lighting the fuse at the base of the rocket of my beliefs. Sometimes the fuse was too wet, sometimes too dry, sometimes my dreams crashed and burned, sometimes I had to go and buy a whole new rocket. The entire time, I kept attempting different methods through which I might launch myself towards my bliss.

While Joseph Campbell suggested one “Follow your bliss,” I assert that one must strap your soul to whatever apparatus of launching you can find, and launch yourself towards that bliss. Go get it. In this brief bracket of time called your life, the rewards are worth the effort and your dreams are worth the risk of investing as much of your energy as you can manage. “The benefit of what you’re doing comes from that effort,” says my yoga teacher Bryan Kest – similarly, the universe knows when you’re working towards something and, from experience, I sense that the benefits we receive return through the channel created by the expenditure of your heart towards your goals. Keep tunneling through the granite, keep chipping away, even when your hands are bleeding and your knees are raw and you can’t really see what you’re doing. We are in a time of deep metaphysical creativity and positive manifestation. You will be aided, you will be guided, you will be safe in the crucible of your creating.

I’ve begun to write down the story of how Isaac and I possibly found each other, and how I transitioned from a heart space of night – cool, dark, full of treachery and suspicion – towards an arena of daytime – bright, warm, friendly and transparent. The rapidity with which my dreams raced into and through reality was utterly mind blowing, and yet I understand that when a star runs out of fuel, it implodes and becomes a black hole, towards which all matter races and transmutes. I experienced a very similar phenomenon following the passing of Heath Ledger, witnessing the way a massive star collapsed, causing a black hole towards which other surrounding stars were sucked towards, circling and circumambulating. Matter begins to clump together in this environment, and as such, my life shifted dramatically following the gravity of that natural disaster. I created Paper Castle Press at that time, I found love in many places, and I began multiple major projects, many of which have found fruition over time.

Arthur Hacker, 'The Temptation of Sir Percival' (1894)

Today, I reflect on the astronomical phenomenon of the binary star, and how Isaac and I were magnetized towards each other out of the complementary ends of black hole implosions. Both he and I had come through the vortices of black holes, and out the other side completely transmuted, cleansed, reprogrammed, clear and intentional. The binary stars of our universe are plentiful, apparently, and I realize now that my attraction towards other ‘binary stars’ or binary beings on this planet inferred the seeding of my future. Similarly, my harmless crush on Conan O’Brien all these years bore all the signs of a kind of interstellar Global Positioning System, or magnetic resonance. The fact that Isaac Koren is tall, lanky, red-headed and utterly endearing is not surprising to me. Follow the magnets that draw you on this planet and you will not fall far nor long.

John Lennon and Yoko, Baz Luhrmann and Catherine Martin, Michelle & Barack, Bono and Alison, Inez and Vinoodh, Chris Martin and Gwenyth Paltrow, Ahkenaten and Nefertiti, Antony and Cleopatra, Harry and Bess Houdini: multiple, multiple binary stars on this planet from before and beyond, from today onward. We have many rockets to begin collecting. But now, to Big Sur, the sea otters, and a visit to my old psychic friend and ancient mentor, Henry Miller. Follow us here for more of our love story. It is now ours to share. With love,

Signing off,

Mrs Sophie Claire Koren Ward

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