Issuu

The Alchemical Rede Magazine In The Curve Of The Egg

By Clarity 1

In The Curve Of The Egg Introduction: Nested once more in the curve of the Egg, we take a breath.

2026 August 9th Issue In The Curve Of The Egg

We are inside the curve, we are inside the motion, we are inside the movement, we are Egg Bound, but we are cracking open, and the Summer light is pouring in.

We are not drowning, we have felt we were drowning, we are swimming, swimming, swimming into the Moonbath of our making. 4

Our Papered Awareness turns our pages for us, when we cannot seem to nd the right foot, and we are curving, curving, curving into an awareness that has us awestruck.

Coming from behind the Moon, behind the cycles, behind each phase, we are marked, are marking our way across the sky-blue of nightfall and dayfall is right behind us.

We feel behind, left behind, bound by the Egg of Creation, the shell is crack, crack, cracking, and we are stepping out and into the above and below, the side to side, and the inside outside.

Our Threadial Existence is tied to the Red Thread of the Mother, we listen to and speak the Mother Tongue, the songs we sing, we gather from our own words, given to us by the Ancient Mother Tongue of Language.

Each Moon curve rotates us like a cup lled with opportunity, potential, and growth. We sip it at times, we drink it at times, and at times we gulp it when we are parched.

Alice says, “Let them sit down, let them partake of the gifts of hospitality, let them remember what is was like to feel comforted in their own skin. And talk to the Totem that sits with them, whether they see them or not.”

Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum pull out chairs, “ Here, sit next to me”, they say, “we’ve got ever so much to give you.”

And the Egg cracks more, because that is what any good egg will do, cracking, cracking, cracking, and open up to the Moon phase of Grace.

The Egg Moon is rising, the Eclipse is coming, the momentary reminder that something is there bigger than we are, larger than we are, yet as giving as we can be. Give us a shadow and we will create gures on the wall that move like Magic.

Time to animate the Wand, so the Magic can support you through the passage, the deep Moon Magic that you want, but are afraid to accept. The Fey in you tries to crack your Egg from the inside, the inside inside, the inner inside, so you can nally breathe you alive awake.

The curve of the Egg is moving, the Magic is in the Curve.

The Twice Told begins to unfold and a narrow passage begins to unravel from memory and we begin to know what we thought we were never going to know in a precisional distance. 15

Far enough to feel safe, close enough to be present in every single moment that we are now living. Factored by the word, the rhythm the notes the dividing cords and the resonating follow through, we attach ourselves to a new beginning that unravels from the old thought to be forever.

We are the markers, we are the makers, we are the counters, we are the feelers, we are the forcers, we are the enforcers and the unforced that now begin to multiply our world of decisions.

We fast upon the copy, we refuse the structure that unbuilds, we refuse the memory that will not unravel, we particulate what we now need. Particle forward, particle backward we learn the ease of inside out and outside in.

The female presence that knows the seed she feeds, and the fed knows her as Mother. Mother of the Breath, Mother of the Moon, Mother of the Tide, Mother of the ocean depth, Mother of the Moment Twice Told, Mother of the Beginning of change when it has not yet even become thought.

Question your server, questions your giver, question the sound that mocks your distance and makes you feel too small to forgive yourself for living. Live the nerve, live the tapping on the nerve, live the registry unfolded, withdrawn, clean slate.

Where did you come from? Whoever knew you before you were? Whoever knew you before you could count, whoever knew you before you could raise the seed, whoever knew you when your breath was not yet taken?

Yes, you are the Mother before she was old, you are the Mother before she was told, you are the Mother that click click clicks and is only a tackle in a Fisherman’s box, is only a tackle on the hook.

So tackle up your history, tackle up your Fish Files, tackle up the eons of swimming, and tackle what knew you were shed out of the stream, like a minnow given legs. Walk walk walk, begin to talk talk talk and the chalk smears the distance between then and now.

Clear the emotion of motion, clear the gesture of need. Clear the ful llment of distance and you begin to generate from a clearer vision than ever before.

“Mop it up,” says Alice. “Don’t hide in the garden,” says the Rabbit. “Don’t jump through their hoops,” says the March Hare. “Pinpoint your word,” says the Pen, “and don’t smear your truth with others opinions of who you are”.

Closure: Cracking open, and become.

Publishers: Su.Sane & Robert Hake, Clarity