Thumper sounds

Dune. Dune. Dune . . . It rolls around in my head and echoes like the deep thrum of a thumper calling something to me. The Fremen, The Bene Gesserit Witches, The Mentats, the Spacing Guild, The Worms, the spice and the eyes. It's the eyes that catch my attention the most. A shade of bewitching qualities. Politics, Shamanism, Jealousy, Greed, Survival, Love, Faith. . . all of those things that excites the iron in our blood and makes it roil for passion is sung in desert chanties secretly inbetween the lines of the story. If you listen you can hear the lonely Stilgar, the unnamed fanatic being born, the devoted heart brother, the conflicted wives. Life and some of its truths I find written in a manner not so far removed from our own realities. It makes the lesson more clear when you can see it from a higher vantage and remove some of the pain inflicted by its passage. Another reason to keep our Shamans well fed ;)

Running the iron pentacle has become something I have been more focused on as I a reading Dune this round. Inevitably, as I have engrained into myself during my training days, the pearl follows quickly brought to heel with a prayer to the Star Goddess and Kala. It's a ritual that flows from one exercise to another like water for me, it's as instilled into me as much as the litany against fear. I shall not fear. Fear is the mind killer. It is the little death that leads to total obliteration. I put that one there on purpose as a teen and it followed me through my life as a faithful servant of self mastery in the moment. A way to ease that quibbley blob of fat in my skull when it freaks out. I am indebted to Frank Herbert's genius for this piece of calming magic.

I am committing an atrocity in the bibliophile world. I am writing in my tattered soft cover. I am reading with a pen, marking the wisdom as I find it. I can't just let this book go even though the cover is duct taped on, the pages threatening to flee out of order and flutter away abandoning me for the illusion of freedom.

I can still hear the thumper.


I know what has been invoked and I must stand firm in the sand with my hooks in my hand. The hiss of the moving worm grows louder. I shall not fear. My hook sinks true and my eye is opened in the desert moon.