Issuu

The Alchemical Rede Magazine A House Is A Home

By Clarity 1

Introduction: In the hush of the quiet, you become.

2026 September 12th Issue A House Is A Home A house is a home, is a home, is a home. A home is a house, is a house, is a house. Threads unbound, threads unwound, threads all around ying. Corrugated, creased and folded, it’s all part of what it is.

Creasing, creasing, creasing, and what folds is folded, and listening is the answer that rolls out the door, where there is nothing that avails itself to mend the fray. Papered Awareness narrows its gaze, focuses on formula, and counts the marks that marked the way.

Alice says,”When the out and out gets its due, the Table is set for more than a few.” “You can say that again”, say Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum together, and they look at each other as though they knew something more.

House has its cards of humor and mirth, and the home has its ways and means, between the two they know more than can be known.

The Red Thread threads the needle and points the way through, moving through the narrow, and the narrow bends its relief, so what was was and what will will, until all that’s left is Is.

Breaking away where the cracks crack and the getting over doesn’t get over, and the eld is too high and the path is too brambled, where only kindness heals and kindness mends, and letting go goes further than all the nos.

Broken is broken and mend mends the bending curve, so the ease is made when the heart opens up from closed down. Marked are the words, and marked is the keep, keeping the keeping, and not letting go, keeps the keeping keeping and the marked unseen.

When the rotation rotates and the round turns around, the ease rolls in and time will tell what happens, when made to is forgotten and kindness comes in. 7

No room, no room, and little time to y, the branch is cracking, cracking, cracking and feet are losing ground. “No wonder there is chaos, when there is such a mess, and no one wants to clean it up, no musical notes, no play, no further openness.

“Closed is closed”, say the Cheshire Cat, “ and when things get tight, you got to loosen up.” And there he goes again, oating like a ballon, his tail is the string while his cheeks pu up.

Like the wolf and the Three Little Pigs, hu ng and pu ng to blow the house down, hoping the dust up, the kerfu e, the crossed paths ends sooner than soon, where the best way already was, and might could be again.

Reason is unreasonable, logic is illogical, and what needs to be can be, if what amounts to nothing can be seen that way. Build it up, and build it up, and build it up, keep it going and the ease slips away from this and everything else.

ffl

ffi

Formula, the numbers add up their letters, and alpha becomes beta, until what needs to move moves what was in the way out of the way. Push becomes shove and wax becomes wane. The moon sets over itself and the blue salts the wounds.

The House is a house, which is a home, and what was is again, in the remainder of the equation of what was, what is, and what can be. 10

It all makes sense, when the signs equal what they say, and the peace becomes more than the right or wrong, but the pursuit of happiness is the addition that’s needed and wanted and desired.

Dreams are to be made, not broken, and the cost is simple when together and not strung apart. What counts and costs are the pennies adding up, like letter to letter to letter, and number to number to number.

A home is a haven, no matter the ti s and to s, but to lose out to a moment is a lame as it gets. Count up the gifts and what was was grand, count up what’s coming and brace yourself.

Out of house and home, gets you down the road, but what was was more than coming can nd. Reach past the spot that you are in, reach the dot if zero and move up from that.

The Dormouse scoots across from plate to plate, “There are more people coming, I’m telling you, and whether you can see them or not is no problem of mine. Coming into the nothing gets you past the hole, but lling it back up paves the way for kindness again.

The elementals are in the mix and the changes are moving into place and home is home, where house is just house, so what counts turns on the lights, the other shuts them down.

Electricity is just electricity, money is just money, but what counts counts more than either of those two. You just need to remember, beyond the dust, smoke and mirrors.

Post your notes past due, and make what’s spoken is the word that lives in the mouth of Intention, all parts of the same, in a world that does not listen, but the taste of the Source of a person is given at the birth of a life to remember.

Holding a spoken inside the will of the breath that is a holding, comes from a calling that’s whispered into the rst breath of being Sacred.

Holding the mark of one’s self is a point of the calling that registers in the memory, the full pull of a Sacred connection that never unroots itself.

The place of memory inside a registry that most people never hear fully, is a will inside this work. Inside this work are many markings and each mark controls the memory of this to carry the mark of will across the chest of commitment is what is now moving in closer.

As this year moves deeper into its true calling, we begin to remember the small coin of persistence that pays our way into a larger resonance of personal power.

We bend into the composure of waiting, and remember very little that has not been remembered before. The opening that now gives pace to the direction forward is now di erent than it has ever been before, but what now looks right is left, and what looks open is closed.

We remember the heat of the wishing, pushing us forward, pushing us behind, wishing us open, wishing us closed, but all that’s wished for we become, no longer foreign to ourselves.

We are the rider, we are the ridden, we are the place that opens to what has been restricted. We have felt small, even when we are large, and we have felt large even when we felt small.

The open character of need hears the plain and the plain is exceptional, glorious, and grand. In this tiny place, in this smallness felt, we have made a home from a house of wood and sticks.

Marking our making and making our marking, we art our way through, so others can hear what they want to know, what they want to feel, what they hope to see.

Break a mirror for seven years of who knows what, or instead patch the patch with spit and glue, and move back into the Real of You.

Inside the pinch of wake up we lean into the subtlety is a clear and clear picture even though it feels muddled right now. You can go this way or that, but if you are not in the center, you can’t land your space, you can’t ground your center, or mark your way.

So sit and sink into yourself deeper, you might be a bit out of touch, the metal of the alchemy of freedom. Experiencing a full fold at this time is necessary, the noise of past begins to quieten.

Now you know, you are the Mother, you are the Father, you are the Child, you are the wishing and the folding that life requires.

Allow the quiet to hold and help you remember. The squares connect within you. In the beginning you were Heart, and your Heart was full. Now are you ready?

What do you see? Only what you saw and saw and saw, or do you see something new that you thought was old, crazy old? When did you decide to see that way, a narrow look at a much wider picture.

Open it up, the heart and vision, open it up to a compassionate embrace. The heart of the heart of the heart of you trines it so. So so and so becomes more than less and more than more. 22

Over it, over it, over it, break the spell house is a home. Keep the spell and home is just a house, to be sold to the highest bidder. The bitter with the sweet, and the home washed away, like so much dust.

Dust to dust and rust to rust, time for a change that even Mr. Magorium’s Magic Emporium can change the creeping grey away.

The spoken vows within itself, and the meaning is often not truly understood. There is only the precise that longs to be heard in a new way.

In the beginning we learned a potential, but in the end it is potency that gives rise to wisdom, and this potency matters, it matters in this year of the Horse. It matters in many ways that we have yet to understand.

We are the called forward, and our hearts must open to new numbers, and these new numbers do not add up the same way, so go deeper to understand, go deeper not to be shallow and create shallowing ways.

The memory poses new ways of seeing, and the timing is calculated even deeper than ever before. The said is more open when given room, and the room creates a whole new beginning. 25

Behave yourself, behoove yourself, relate yourself, recall yourself as you have been before, and open your heart to the sound of receiving.

Tap tap tap, allow the opening. Tap tap tap allow the promise to ful ll Tapp tap tap allow Grace to enter, you know the meaning you know the heart of it so allow the heat to rise allow the memory to expand and the way of di erence to catch a breath.

You are the Wooded Way ,you are the rooted Tree you are the climbing reed you are the leaf upon the vine you are the mistletoe that grows at the top of the Oak. You are the Walnut in the hall, you are the forbidden grace that the world can’t give, so allow yourself some room.

The motionary allowance begins to move around in your world, and you remember the turning motion that’s needed, for your life to become ready.

There is a spoken that never speaks, and there is a speaking that never listens, and there is a listening that will not soften, and there is a softening that tries to become hard, but it cannot, because that is not of this time, the time of the Horse, the time of the running ,the time of the heat, the time of knowing why.

Closure: When the lie begins to soften the truth opens into Love.

Publishers: Su.Sane & Robert Hake, Clarity