Mythstory

Shovels plow into archaeological deserts reflecting passion and curiosity.

An archaeologist inside a tomb waving Diogenes’s lamp yells, “Every bit we dig out tells a little more about the story.” They unearth fragments of a story revealing institutions, customs and cultures.

A bird presses her breast to a thorn to make herself sing. There is an old fable about a bird and an ogre telling his daughter where his soul lived. 

“Sixteen miles from here is a old gigantic tree. Around the tree are tigers, bears and scorpions. On top of the tree is a huge snake. On top of the snake’s head is a small cage and inside the cage is a bird. Inside the bird is my soul.”

I am the thorn, bird, wing, feather and air. My thorn is a claw, a sharp definitive talon for tearing meat from white bones. Satisfying my hunger along the Tao.

I am a cognitive psycho-neurolinguist. My specialty is languages. Lost tongues.

“Every language is an old-growth forest of the mind, a watershed of thought, an ecosystem of spiritual possibilities,” according to Wade Davis, anthropologist.

Wandering deep into the Tarim Basin along the Silk Road in Central Asia I discovered the Tokharin language and Afansievo culture dating back 4,000 years. It was a proto-Indo European language with Celtic and Indian connections established by trade caravans and explorations. I suspect it is Qarasahr or IA, based on an Iranian dialect.

Mircea Eliade, a historian of religions, once stated, “Myths tell only of that which really happened.”

Myths suggests that behind the explanation there is a reality that cannot be seen and examined. Myth has been defined as truth trying to escape from reality. A myth is a story of unknown origins, sacred stories based on belief, containing archetypical universal truths. They are in every place and no particular place. The world is a sacred story.