MEMOIR LOGO CONCEPT: The aleph and a Sufi mystic inspired my creation and design of the syzygy logo, which I initially based on the symbolism of the yin and yang.



But the concept expanded when I first saw the aleph in Judith Cornell’s    
Mandala Healing Kit, My inexplicable attraction to it led me to incorporate it into my logo before I knew what it meant. 

I later read that the “Aleph (the first letter of the sacred Hebrew alphabet) embodies the primordial, divine potential of the universe. ... Aleph contains all the universe’s potential and all of its emptiness   simultaneously. Aleph represents a dynamic process of movement from unity to diversity and back to unity,” Jennifer Judelsohn, Songs of Creation.

And the  mystic poet Rumi inspired me to use the fire and water concept after I read The  Question.  Here is an excerpt:  

“The presence is there in front of me. A fire on the left, a lovely stream on the right.

One group walks toward the fire, into the fire. Another toward the sweet flowing water.

No one knows which are blessed and which are not.

Whoever walks into the fire appears suddenly in the stream. 

A head goes under water, and that head pokes out of the fire.”

LOGO ART: Cropped fire and water images from Free Images

LOTUS LOGO: In spiritual and religious literature, “the lotus is a symbol for the macrocosm and the microcosm, the universe and man. The lotus represents the divinity of the cosmos as well as the divinity of man. 





The lotus is the center of the infinite, omnipresent consciousness which connects with the consciousness of the universe. Through the intuition, one of man’s divine gifts, the spiritual student can see the infinite, omnipresent consciousness as the lotus flower within himself.” 

LOTUS ART: Courtesy 
Homestead, my website service provider. (Temporary art while I design of my own lotus logo.)


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THE MEMOIR
CROSSING THE BRIDGE TO SELF
THE JOURNEY

Writing memoir began my healing process  
Exploring my 
past experiences revealed many sources of my anger
In search “for home, for mama, for truth, for something, I didn’t know what,” I wrote this memoir in hopes of ending the war that waged within, and to understand and heal my inexplicable anger with myself and with others, feelings that have haunted me my whole life. For an in-depth view of this memoir, click the link of your choice in the navigation bar to the left. To order, the paperback please click here.
“A book of mine is always a matter of fate. There is something unpredictable about the process of writing, and I cannot prescribe for myself any predetermined course. Thus this ‘autobiography’ is now taking a direction quite different from what I had imagined at the beginning. It has become a necessity to write down my early memories. If I neglect to do so for a single day, unpleasant physical symptoms immediately follow. As soon as I set to work they vanish and my head feels perfectly clear.”
Carl Jung,
about his memoir in
Memories, Reflections, Dreams


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© 1955–2015 Syzygy: Crossing the Bridge to Self. All Rights Reserved.

Scraping the chalky topsoil off trenches and craters in my war-torn psyche, the Syzygy: Crossing the Bridge to Self memoir explores the layers of environmental destruction and psychological damage after decades of abuse and Self-annihilation to exhume what remains, if anything. 

In search for home, for mama, for Truth, for something, I didn’t know what, I examine each piece of evidence under the light of prominent Jungian analysts—not to find fault but to find peace. 

Detonating explosives, long thought to be duds, forced me to rebuild the foundation of my psyche, a stone-by-stone metamorphism. 

Resurrected through the lenses of hundreds of dreams, fairy tales, myths, news clips, fiction, scripture, songs, and poems, as well as quotes from numerous scholarly journals, spiritual works, and psychology textbooks, this memoir doesn’t just tell you a story, it invites you to live it. 

The proverbial brick (in her case, a frying pan) had not hit Gabrielle in the head until she was 44 years old. 
But when it did, the injury was massive. Her husband, Griffin, who she romanticized as her second soulmate, who she couldn’t imagine living without, had just slammed out the door, slamming the door on their life together, forever. 

She should have seen the shadow of the frying pan on the wall; she had seen it in dream after dream. But she didn’t know what it symbolized until it was too late. The thing she had feared most had happened. Shattered, she lost the will to live—because she knew it was her own damn fault. Some inexplicable anger had been eating her alive for much of her life and now it was sucking dry everything and anything that crossed her path.

Saved by the bell, the telephone rang. Gabrielle’s parents, who lived 2,000 miles away, had a bad feeling. They knew something was wrong, offered her refuge, insisted she come home to recover, to regroup. They did not want to experience what it would be like on Earth without her. Little did they know, they were inviting home the very monster they helped create. ♂ ♀