A thick cushion of submoss – grown fat by the punishing winds that scoured across the mountaintop – broke his fall. He dug his claws into the moss... gritting his teeth as the wind became more frantic – and less focused.A gust pushed him forward. Backwards. Upwards. Downwards. His wings strained as he tried to snap them shut around his chest. Finally, he did and curled up as tightly as he could as the wind reached new crescendos. A lightning bolt crashed into the mountain very near his body –. ’ Becca responded: ‘I never thought of power in those terms before.’ I continued: ‘Te also turns ‘on’ synchronicity and the recognition of synchronicity, in fact it turns it on in ways that life can become one long serendipity. Recognizing synchronicity and serendipity can become a form of spiritual guidance, a very happy form. Our discussion continued. At one point Becca said: ‘Thinking about the torturer and the girl. Yes the torturer killed her but she really had the power. He could not get. More

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