The Book of Reclamation

What is Reclaiming you?

You may remember that in my role as Resident Something or Other at the Museum of The Mystery, I had been tasked with an exploration of some questions.

The first, “What are you hungry for?” led me into the archives where I found a book that prompted me to write and then read.

Last we met, I had just let my hungers spill out of me on and onto the page.
Once I was done, it was time to read.

I began with the cover, which asked a question I was already familiar with.
What is Reclaiming You?
The second question on my current quest.

The book was a journal of the explorer Georgina Redlace.
As I have learned, Georgina did not set off in search of new continents or seas.
She travelled to lands legendary. Magical. Hidden.
Her work is often passed over as the clever imaginations of a mad woman.
And yet.
I assure you.
Her adventures were real.

She was chronicling an exploration of various underworlds.
From what I can gather this was written mostly in the time between World Wars.
And was propelled by a desire to understand the rumbling fear turned to hate that was blanketing the landscape of her days.
She set off to find the spaces men feared…the places erroneously marked as lands of death and evil. She suspected that there was more than the mythology of the moment told.

I could spend forever telling you of what I have learned of Georgina, but instead I will share with you what I first read when I randomly turned to a page.

---

“Go deep, my darling” she whispered.
Her voice becoming more than hers. Multitudes. Multiplying. Weaving in on itself. Becoming a choir trailing up my spine as the soft darkness yielded under my weight.
There was nothing left to do but fall ever so slowly that I could trick myself into thinking that this was of my choosing.
Her voice became mine.
Became everything.
A hum that held me as the deep took me.

“Let the hunger claim you as its own,” I heard as much as I felt. “Let it wrap you in its tendrils. Let it hold you in its maw. Do not fight. Do not struggle against its grip. It is time to remember.”

The voice was no longer words but a silent song that spilled from the air around me. I knew it more than I ever heard it.

It spoke of all that I feared in the life up above and the way the nightmares invaded the day.
Pervasive and choking…but shallow in their hold.
Feeding only on what falls to the ground and rots.
Its roots only as deep as itself.

The voice that was no more, asked me to set my feet on what was no longer solid ground but rather the point where the snake met itself in consumption.
I did as I could.

A chant rose through what I thought was me…

“It is the hunger that calls. It is the hunger that begs. It is the hunger that rises and reclaims what is theirs. The hunger of a world that could be. If only, if only, if only…”

I can break through what I was told was bedrock. But was really only the sky.
The answer is deep.
The roots are the path but not the end.
The roots are what feed me but they are not the food.
We must go deeper than the stories say we can.
And sup from the river that winds through us all.
It is only then we will remember.

I thought only a few minutes had passed.
And yet, it was hours.
Many of them spent staring into space.
Feeling the flames of hunger licking my skin.
Calling to me.
And I began to wonder, if it was my hunger that was reclaiming me.
Or if it was what I was hungry for.
Or perhaps, something else I still had not found.

I envisioned my roots.
Seeking nourishment.
Emissaries of my hunger.
And I wondered what was rising to meet them in return.

There is something out there, wishing to reclaim me.
I knew that as I know that.
A spark in my bones.
I am as hungry for it as it is for me.

It is something that is known and dark with mystery.
Maybe it is the mystery, for all I know.

---

I flipped back to what I had written. And under my handwriting was another’s. I swear I had not noticed it before.

It read…

What do you know of decadence?

Another question.
For another day.

With love and fire~
Jo Anna

P.S. In the churnings of life, I missed the full moon. Paid subscribers of this newsletter are receiving a not so full moon clearing and the message that comes through during it. If you would like to join, it is $7 a month.
I have next months moon marked down so I don’t forget…that clearing will be for all, as usual.