I am Sufficient I am ever the unfolding, ever reaching out and expanding, I bring to earth the fire, I light the candles, I fan the hidden flames, I name the Gods and they hear me. I speak necessary and secret truths I walk where no one else walks. I pick flowers on that awful trail and study them, photograph them, catalog them and then make them into art. I am the wanderer. I do not know where I will be. But I know I will take that sketchbook with me. I will keep scribbling until the life is no longer in this body. I will keep struggling. I will not give up. I will toil alone. I will toil with the many mysterious messages that I ferret out of the great pool of the life-supporting essence which bathes us all. I will toil and hold these results dear to me and then I will release them I am the magician who does that. I am favored of Set. I favor myself. Maybe there is no names for me. I name myself. I am 'Illuminaria', I light my path with that hidden flame. I can feel it, that's all that matters. I carry this flame lightly. I carry this flame solemnly. I carry this flame joyfully. It is mine, and no one can take it away. Set will have the hide of the one who tries. Today is my day. This is my life, unfolding. I will not grow weary on the path, not such that resting spots along the way will not mend. I am Joan, I am Illuminaria, and I am sufficient. JAL, 6 -18 -06

I am answering in my mind someone who wouldn't like this poem:

"That sounds so boastful. How are you sure you won't 'get weary'?" No, truthfully, I can't say I'm sure that won't happen. It happens to people all the time. Of course I hope I will avoid that fate. This is a statement of my 'state of being' right now. I need to know my own strength, that I *am* sufficient. That's all.

Go to Sufficiency. Hunger. Balance.
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