As the wind turns cool and carries brief rushes of change this week, I am feeling deeply all that isn’t seen. I am resonating with Rachel’s story of lunar wisdom, and about relationships, rhythms, pushes, pulls. I’m feeling nourished by the repeated pattern of collective breaths. 

In my head is playing the verse of I Due Liocorni, the two unicorns, at the end of the nursery rhyme from my childhood. The first verses sing of a forest of animals - two crocodiles, an orangutan, two snakes, an eagle, the cat, the mouse, and the elephant. No one is missing, it concludes, only the two unicorns aren’t seen. 

The weight and the worth of the two unicorns are settling in, balancing, as I unlearn a distrust of sense impressions. I’m wondering more about outer symptoms and inner imbalances. About communication and labor that happens beneath the soil. The incalculability of these, and about trusting answers that acknowledge all that isn’t seen.

Alessia Cutugno