Meeting the goddess of the Sinai: Hathor
Travelogue Sinai, October 2024
Part 1.
Two years ago we organized a great ceremony on Mount Sinai, in the middle of the Sinai desert. About 60 women and 20 men went up the mountain for a night vigil, and all over the world thousands of people participated. It became an extraordinary experience, with dark moments, immense forces of light, personal processes, and powerful magic.
I wrote at the time about my nighttime experience on the mountain, which began with a descent into darkness, a feeling of failure, pain and physical problems with my lungs, but ended in euphoria, connection and an ultimate sense of bliss in the morning.
While the sun was rising outside and people were enjoying the spectacle atop the mountain, Anne and I sat meditating in the dark in a Bedouin tent. After a tumultuous night, the same thing happened to both of us: we saw the sun rise, but not outside us, but inside us, with such power that all darkness disappeared instantly. Never before have I experienced so strongly how darkness is only illusion, which disappears as soon as the light sets in.
After that night on the mountain, our lives went on, but often we looked back. What on earth had happened? What was the reason for the inner mission we had received in Fatima a year before?
In Israel, during our adventure in Sinai, a new prime minister had been elected: Benjamin Netanyahu. He was pushing for a direct confrontation with the Palestinians. The regime was becoming increasingly right-wing, more violent, more confrontational. A process that had been going on for decades, and one that I had been dreading for years, but was now gaining momentum. The atmosphere became increasingly grim and tense.
A year later, on October 7, just before we went to Sinai again, the unimaginable happened: a horrific counterattack took place from G a z a, this time targeting several kibbutzim and a music festival. Many young people and residents were killed. Israel went into shock at the sudden violence. It revived the pain and fear of the Holocaust.
Netanyahu saw his opportunity to wage an all-destructive war against the people of G a z a. With the help of AI, hundreds of H a m as targets were provided, but the ultimate goal seemed to be to bomb the entire G a z a Strip flat and simply exterminate the population. This continues to this day.
It struck me that the attack took place just before the Israeli New Year, Rosh Hashanah. The new year apparently begins with autumn and winter, and only after that comes spring and summer. Just as the Jewish day begins with nightfall, so you have night first, and then day. It seemed to me symbolic of what the country is going through at this time: as if everyone has to go through the darkest nightmare first, before the light returns. Á la our night on the mountain.
On Wikipedia, I read another special detail: “Between Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur, there is a 10-day period of repentance, during which bad deeds towards other persons and God are expected to be adjusted and reconciled. During this period, a Jew must ask forgiveness from his or her fellow man, if he has committed any mistakes. The ten days end with Yom Kippur (Great Day of Atonement) on which the atonement with God is completed. On Yom Kippur, Jewish man comes face to face with God.’
What the people on the other side of the wall – in the small enclave of 2 million people in g a z a – go through is beyond words. I sometimes see them as the crucified Christ, the sacrificial lamb slain for the sins of mankind. We stand by and watch. It is so maddening and painful that it is beyond human comprehension .
This morning I left for the next trip to the Sinai, this time with five men. A small group. As I sipped coffee with Anne as a farewell on a terrace in Tomar – Anne is staying home this time – I felt chagrined. ‘Only three participants,’ I grumbled. ‘Surely that doesn’t put any money on the table. Apparently no one understands why it is important to bring Jews, Muslims and Westerners together…’
‘But you are together with an Israeli – Eran – some Western men and Muslims, aren’t you?’ said Anne. ‘And maybe Tamer will still come.’
Tamer is a young Palestinian man from G a z a who studied surgery in Egypt before the war. He wanted to be able to help his people if they were injured or maimed.
We had lost contact somewhat since the beginning of the war, but Henk, one of our traveling companions, had since regained contact with him. He was struggling: his studies stopped, his family under daily fire, and like so many gripped by a sense of despair and depression from the ongoing war. But since he heard we were coming to Sinai, he tried everything to get there too. He just doesn’t yet have a visa to enter the Sinai….
Tuesday evening we did our weekly mediation by Zoom. Anne from our home in Tomar, I from a concrete basement of a hostel in Madrid, on my way to Istanbul. Others from Belgium, Holland and America joined in, and a wonderful, warm bath of light emerged. How different the world can be when you invoke the power of light.
‘I see hundreds of people in churches lighting lights for the people in the Middle East,’ someone told me.
‘I suddenly feel again the immensely powerful light we lit at the top of the mountain,’ Anne told me. ‘That light is not gone, it just calls up all the darkness first. You go there now to finish it and plant seeds for the new.’
“Very important that you can do this with a small group, so you can really focus on the work,” said our American friend Shannon, who also attended two years ago.
My mood got significantly better, and by the end of the zoom I felt lifted. Let’s do it. Again to Sinai, to empower the light!
PART 2
The first day I am alone in the hotel. I cross the road to the beach, which overlooks the Red Sea. Across the water is Saudi Arabia. On the beach, I see the dog walking on three legs. I know him from last year and the year before. We once gave him a healing because he was in bad shape because of his limping leg. I am happy to see him again, and the love is mutual. He wags his tail and comes to lie with me.
I feel heavy and sad. Last year when we arrived here, the war in G a z a had just begun, which started a nightmare that continues to this day. I notice how the trauma has crept under my skin, and how tired I am of it. I think about our small group of participants and realize that perhaps it is exactly right that we are few. I need to let go, rest, and be there for myself. For a moment, let the world be the world. And where better to do that than in the desert?
I put in my earbuds and listen to Jesus Christ Superstar. The music takes on a very different, deeper, meaning in the context of this time. “Father, forgive them. They don’t know what they are doing.” I can finally shed my tears. It feels liberating to be here, though so close to the conflict – Sinai borders both Israel and G a z a to the north – but the world of the desert feels like the silent center, the eye in the storm. While I come here to ‘guide the group,’ I feel there is another, deeper mission for myself.
When I open the inspirational text of the day on an app, I read:
“You have to be willing to trust to the end. You must know even though you cannot see…. Like Abraham, you must be willing to climb the mountain of sacrifice and continue to the very last moment before seeing My deliverance. Only those walking in faith must pass this final test.”
In the evening, I am the first to meet Roland and his son Sunday, who have signed up for the week. Sunday is from Nigeria and was adopted at age seven. He is now 21 years old, firmly muscled and with a smiling face. On his facebook his name is ‘Joyboy’. When I ask about it, he explains, “Joyboy is a character from a Japanese animation movie. He has been reincarnated in this time, but actually he is the Warrior of Liberation.’
Later, when he retells the story to the whole group, we all understand why he is here. Somehow the desert invites (young) leaders who need to find their true destiny. Like in the science fiction movie ‘Dune,’ the desert allows you to let go of all ego and personal attachments to find your ‘true self.’ In this case ‘the warrior of Liberation.’
In the evening I meet Henk, a good friend who has been involved for years in helping Salam, the young doctor from G a z a. He is the next to arrive and slowly we begin to get to know each other. Henk was particularly drawn to a text I had shared, a Tibetan prophecy about the spiritual warriors of our time:
“There comes a time when all life on Earth is in danger. At that time great powers have arisen, barbarian powers, and although they waste their wealth in preparations to annihilate each other, they have much in common. Among the things these barbarians have in common are weapons of unfathomable devastation and death and technologies that lay wast to the world. And it is just at this point in our history, when the future of all beings seems to hang by the frailest of threads, that the kingdom of shambhala emerges. Now, you can’t go there because it is not a place. It exists in the hearts and minds of the shambhala warriors….”
I tell Henk, Roland and Sunday about the heaviness I feel from the war.
“What war?” asks Sunday.
I look at him in amazement. ‘The war in Israel and Gaza…?!’
‘No, never heard about it,’ he says. ‘I don’t watch the news.’
My mouth drops open. On the one hand I am shocked, but at the same time I envy him. Suddenly I realize how deeply the war has completely gripped me: I am full of war stories. Violence and trauma has a kind of sucking effect.
His remark has a wonderful and beneficial effect. I can suddenly see a whole different perspective on the world and on the pain of war. It’s not gone but it feels significantly less heavy. What a liberation!
‘Warrior of Liberation,’ I think. ‘Welcome to the group!’
PART 3
The fifth – and last – man to arrive is Eran. I first met him several years ago when I taught a men’s workshop in Israel. Since then, our friendship has only grown, and he joined more and more workshops and trips. Over the past year he has been at almost all the meetings: Tomar, Azores, Tomar 2, Pyrenees (with his girlfriend Shlomit), Tomar 3, Brazil and now Sinai. When he wanted to come to Sinai last year, just after the war broke out on Oct. 7, his mother begged him not to go. No Israeli dared to go to an Arab country anymore. Previously thousands of israelis crossed the border at Eilat to enjoy their holiday by the Red Sea, but now the border crossing was deserted and the resorts empty.
Eran, however, was determined. Our Bedouin chief Mohamed would pick him up at the border himself, to make sure he had safe passage.
The trip became his initiation: he left his country, his culture, his family to take a new path. Not the road of war, but the road of the heart. The path of connection between Arab, Jewish and Christian culture. To do so, he had to go to the desert, as so many prophets once had to leave the world before him, to find the ‘true way.’
Every Jewish man or woman is tied to a particular passage of the Torah, corresponding to the moment of his or her birth. With Eran, that is the passage of Abraham: ‘Go, and find the land I have promised you.’
Eran changed from participant to assistant, and next year we will guide a number of retreats together. ( a.o. A man’s journey to the heart of the Amazon)
With Eran, our small party of five is complete. The bond of friendship is quickly made. We all draw a card from the tarot deck of Isis about the destination of our journey. Each has a different spiritual task to accomplish, and together we draw the group card: ‘Miraculous Healing of Isis.’ As five men, we will walk the path of healing, compassion and divine love.
From the Bedouin camp we receive a call that there has been a mistake with the rooms. We have to move to other rooms without bathrooms after three days. Eran and I look at each other. No drama, perhaps it is a signal that we should enter the desert earlier. We are a small group, which means we are flexible. I suddenly remember a place in the mountains where an old Bedouin woman lives. I have been there several years ago, and know you could spend the night there. Eran wants nothing more than to go into the desert and the old woman’s place sounds good.
When we take a walk through Dahab the next day – Dahab always reminds me of the desert town of the planet Tatooine from the Star Wars movies – we end up in a new little cafe. It is furnished with taste and the owner tells us she is of American-Iranian descent. Her name is Nadia. When she hears we are going to Saint Katherine, she exclaims: “Do you know the Old Lady of the Mountain? You have to go to her. Don’t forget, it is important. Give her the greetings of Nadia!’
Eran and I look at each other: the Old Lady of the Mountain. The synchronicity and magic of the trip has begun.
PART 4
Our plan to go into the desert becomes clear: the first day we want to go to the mountain of the ancient king’s tomb, and then spend the night with ‘the old lady of the mountain.’ I bought lotus oil from Dahab for her as a gift.
The second day we will climb Mount Saint Katherine, the highest mountain in Egypt, and the central peak of the Sinai Mountains. The mountain of Moses lies at the foot of Saint Katherine, so to speak.
The third day we will return to base camp to climb Mount Moses from there. Three days, three mountains.
The group agrees, and our party is accompanied by Bedouin guide Gamoo, which in Arabic means “Friday,” the holy day of Muslims. So now we have both a “sunday” in the group, the son of 21, and a Friday!
During the trek to the mountain with the tomb, I muse about the ‘old lady of the mountain.’ She seems to stand for much more than just the Bedouin woman. She also symbolizes for me Hathor, the ancient goddess of healing. Hathor was one of the oldest goddesses of Egypt, predating the era of Isis, and she was the patron-goddess of Sinai. She had many names and several temples. In Serabit El Khadim, one of her temples in Sinai, she was called the goddess of Turquoise. Other names were:
“Lady of Heaven, The Golden Goddess, Golden One of Women, Cow of Gold, Lady of Dendera, Lady of All, Mother of All Gods, Mistress of the Vulva, She of the Red Cloth, Mistress of the Northern Sky, Mistress of Joy, Mistress of Music, Dance, Celebration, etc.
Hathor was depicted in ancient Egypt with cow horns on her head, and I suspected since the first time I visited inde Sinai, in 2005, that the story of the Golden Calf referred to Hathor.
The Jewish people probably still celebrated the fertility rituals of the ancient goddess when they left Egypt. When Moses came down the mountain with the Stone Tables and saw the dance around the golden calf, he was furious. He had two thousand followers of Hathor killed, and thus the beginning of patriarchy was a fact. Henceforth there would be no goddess, only a father God in heaven. Judaism, Christianity and Islam became predominately male religions.
Perhaps our trip to “the old lady of the mountain” is meant to honor and reinstate the feminine.
Just before going into the mountains and thus three days off line a strange thing happens. I have my weekly zoom on Tuesday nights, and the moment we want to start we get hacked. Images of IS beheadings and violent pornography show on all accounts. Anne is trying to remove the invaders as quickly as possible, but it is impossible. It is a well-organized attack. We decide to stop the zoom and do the meditation off line. But the harm is already done. The images are in our heads, creating distrust, fear, anger, horror and uncertainty.
I lie awake much of the night thinking of it. Our hearts are wide open and the images of masculine aggression and violence have a strong impact. It resembles terrorist ISIS instead of the goddess Isis….
As we walk into the mountains I try to put the incident behind me, but
It still sticks in my head. Bizarre, how negativity sticks. Then I realize it’s almost Halloween, and also new moon. Aha, I think. With Halloween they try to make you scared with terrifying images. Suddenly it makes me laugh. It seems like a test to stay in our hearts and not get caught up in the negativity that such images evoke. We just go on with our mission. Our group card is about healing, and specifically the healing of the masculine.
The first trip goes to the mountain of an Egyptian king, Aber Basher. In his hubris he built a castle on top of the mountain as a tomb for after his death. However, he was never buried in it and the castle became a ruin. So much for the masculine ego. Death makes one humble. The view on the mountain, however, is incredible. We look out over the entire southern Sinai desert. Three years ago I also came here, and got the inspiration for another trip to Sinai, titled ‘The Tipping Point.’ Maybe we are still in it…
In the evening, we arrive at the Old lady of the mountain, who turns out to be named Amria. She is cloaked in black and blue, a kind of Mary of the mountains. She has lived here all her life. It feels like we need to ask her permission for the next phase of the trip: the ascent of Mount Saint Katherine.
We draw another group card: the throne of Isis. “This oracle is about feminine leadership and spiritual authority, regardless of whether you are male or female. Female spiritual authority is power softened by grace, wisdom, compassion and love. Isis, Queen of Heaven, calls you to ascend the throne of feminine leadership so that you may fulfill your life’s mission and serve the divine feminine on this planet.”
PART 5
“In the middle of the labyrinth you will meet your true Self.”
As we say goodbye to “the old lady of the mountain,” she thanks us warmly for the Lotus Oil and the greetings we brought her from Nadia from Dahab. She brings her hands to her heart and gives us three tomatoes from her garden. ‘Shukran’.
It feels like a blessing for our next trek to the heart of the labyrinth: the ascent of Egypt’s highest mountain, Saint Katherine.
It will be the longest day: four hours of climbing and three hours of descending. Until now we climbed every year the mountain of Moses, Mount Horeb, and this is my first time climbing Saint Katherine. From the ‘male’ mountain to the ‘female’ mountain. Until now, this mountain had eluded me, but slowly it becomes clear to me that Saint Katherine is the great powerhouse of Sinai, the center of the labyrinth.
While hiking, I wonder what the mountain was called before Saint Katherine’s name was given to the black lava mountain. No doubt there will have been an older Egyptian name… As we climb between the round, eroded red and black rocks, I ponder about the age of this area. Sinai is one of the oldest mountain ranges in the world, formed in the pre-Cambrian, and presumably the area was once green and forested. Various fossils indicated ferns, plants and river life.
What secret is kept here? What is the key to the power place?
What strikes me is that Saint Katherine is black unlike most other red mountains. She towers over Sinai like a black goddess. I think of Amria, the black Bedouin woman, or Tiyi, the Ethiopian black mother of Akhnaton, the pharaoh of the 18th dynasty. Or the black pharaohs of Nubia, predating the pharaohs of Luxor.
The Black Goddess is likewise reminiscent of Black Mama Africa: full of strength, fun, humor and mildness. I see her before me as I puff and climb up. She asks me to honor her and free her from the shackles of centuries of oppression and male domination.
With the demise of the goddesses Hathor and Isis, the decline of Egyptian culture began. The male, militaristic element took over and the depth of Egyptian spirituality was forgotten. The temples and pyramids got buried under the sand and Egypt became a poor country, mostly ruled by dictators. But somewhere in the desert and in the stones of her temples her secrets remained.
Our wonderful company of six men – a Muslim Bedouin man, a Jewish ex-soldier, an adopted Christian Nigerian, and three white Dutch men in their sixties – make the climb to meet the divine feminine. In ourselves and in the world. It seems this is more necessary than ever.
As we get closer to the summit, and the view becomes wider, I suddenly consider that the American election at this time may be depicting the struggle between patriarchy and matriarchy: an angry white man against a smiling black woman. The ultimate battle.
Maybe it’s not so much a political battle between Democrats and Republicans, between left or right, but a battle between white supremacy, racism, us against them, foul language, war on the one hand and on the other hand: inclusiveness, valuing each other’s differences, not putting the masculine above the feminine, respect for nature and Mother Earth, connection between all peoples and races: the ideal of the United States. It suddenly gives me a whole new perspective on the election.
Apparently, it involves a deeper choice: Can we honor the feminine without subordinating the masculine? Can we find balance in the world? Can we stop the struggle between the masculine and the feminine?
But the most pressing question of the day is: Can I make it to the top of this mountain? Will my knees and lungs hold up, on this mega-climb to the summit of 2,600 meters high? That question applies not only to me, but also to Roland, who toils ahead. In contrast, I see the three “young people” dancing uphill almost skipping and singing. All three help us get higher. We agreed that if we really can’t, we will stop. Behind every bend and summit, however, there is another level. Will the Goddess allow us to meet her?
PART 6
‘The dark night of the soul’
On our trek up to the summit of Saint Katherine, we encounter several times groups of wild donkeys. They look at us in surprise and quietly. The guide tells us that medicine is made from their faeces for stomach cramps by dissolving a donkey’s turd in a cup of hot water. Scientific research has shown that their faeces possess a full arsenal of all the healing herbs of Sinai. Fortunately, none of us suffer from stomach ache.
But our knees and muscles are suffering.
Still, after a long trek, we reach the top of the mountain. Henk and Roland sit down on a rock and sink into their own silent meditation. Jomaa prepares a delicious lunch. Sunday, Eran and I climb further to the highest point. From there, surprisingly, we see that Moses’ mountain has shrunk to a small mountain in the depths, which we distinguish from the other mountains with some difficulty. Amazing what a different perspective doesn’t already do. The three of us tune in, feeling like kings. We have made it!
After lunch, Jomaa exhorts us to leave again: the trek down is still long and we need to be down before dark. Then it suddenly turns out that going down is not necessarily easier. In fact, I find the descent more difficult. I can borrow an extra walking stick from Henk and waddle down on crutches. Halfway down, the donkeys look at me in amazement. ‘Strange types, those people.’
The trek down becomes more beautiful and beautiful, but also heavier and heavier. We stumble down the mountain, and slowly dusk begins to descend. Roland voices his worries and fears. Sunday helps his father. He can lean on him with every step down.
Just before dark we reach the valley, where it is still a short distance to the walled garden where we sleep. The Bedouins have already provided food and fire, and completely exhausted we fall down. It turns out that we are meant to sleep outside, and no one asks any questions. But the night turns cold and damp , and again I fear for my lungs. It is Halloween night, and we will know it. Each of us has a black, lousy night. The exhaustion and energy of the black mountain, the black goddess, tests us deeply. The dark night of the soul.
It is not until morning that I poke my head above the musty blankets, and see Eran’s smiling face. ‘Sabachir!’ Says he. ‘Good morning. He is more used to life in the desert than the others.
The others also wake up one by one. We survived that too.
When we gather under a tree in the garden after breakfast, I get the following message:
‘In the days past – long before the days of patriarchy started – these were the days of the Great Mother Goddess.
What you experienced as a group of men, is the initiation into the dark mysteries. It is a powerful initiation, but you were all ready for it. You all done your inner work and that’s why the five of you could make the step into the void. Into the darkness. Facing your own darkness, but also facing collective darkness: the suppression of the feminine, the abuse of power, the fact that the goddess has been forgotten.
This mountain, that you call Saint Katherine, used to be the mountain of Hathor, the great goddess of the ancient times. Hathor was the goddess of healing, initiation and rebirth. To be reborn you have to die. You have to let go of the past. Let go of your hangups.
You were the first ones performing this ceremony again on this sacred spot. This has more meaning than you can imagine, because this hasn’t been done for thousands of years. You could only do it by helping each other.
Five men, honouring the feminine, by going into the inner world. It is like throwing a stone in a pond. It will ripple for years. So remember this day: the first of November.
Just like Moses started honouring the masculine, starting a patriarchal religion on this very spot, on the next mountain, you were starting to honour the feminine, but in relationship with the masculine. The times to come are about balance, balancing out the feminine and the masculine, so the sacred union – the sacred marriage – can be manifested on earth. Basically the wars you see happening in the world at this moment are in essence a fight between the masculine and the feminine. If you search deep enough this is the rootcause of many conflicts.
What we would like you to do is to visualize the heart in the mountain. As if deep in this mountain – Mount Katherine or mount Hathor – there is a heart, and you are kissing it awake. As if you are stand with the five of you inside the mountain, and you make a pledge to honour and protect this sacred heart. You will take the energy of this sacred heart into the world and bring it to the places where it is needed. Where people will need gentleness and softness, and the wisdom of the heart.
So you are the Warriors of the Heart. Each one with a different mission and a different quality.
Remember this day. The first of November. ’
PART 7
‘Healing the wounded masculine’
After the night in the desert, we walk back to the village base camp. We have climbed two mountains, and on the way I consider that a third mountain is too much of a good thing. I stay at Camp Moussa, as does Roland. Sunday wants to remain in solidarity with his father and stays down as well. Only Henk and Eran will climb the third mountain: Mount Moussa. They will spend the night on top of the mountain, just like other years. A beautiful sunset and sunrise are their portion.
The next morning, we all meet at the monastery of Saint Katherine. We visit the church, the burning bush, the well of Moses and the museum with art treasures and ancient icons. The oldest image of Jesus hangs there, and every time I stand in front of it it moves me deeply. Also there is the oldest version of the Bible, the Codex Sinaiticus from the fourth century AD, a version by Plato from the eighth century, a handwritten version of Homer’s Illias and Odyssey, and countless other priceless art treasures from history.
As we tune into the church of Saint Katherine, I see in my imagination deep underground a tomb with a sarcophagus. I see the body of Osiris, the god of the Underworld, coming back to life. He rises from the dead, and with it the old, healthy male is restored. It seems so crucial in these times. No more the old, toxic masculinity, based on domination, brute force, domination, manipulation and lies. Perhaps that is the great struggle we are currently experiencing on earth.
Everywhere we see dictators and autocratic leaders re-emerging who choose power, self-gain and ‘own people first’.
Osiris was once cut into 14 pieces by his evil brother Seth. His consort, the goddess Isis, sought the pieces back together and healed the wounded male. This allowed her to conceive and give birth to the light god Horus, the falcon god. This is why the divine feminine is so crucial. Without her healing, the healthy male cannot take his place in the world. Horus is the god of the new age. He is the one who finally defeats Seth and thus decides the battle against darkness.
(Familiar story? True, the film the Lion King is a modern version of the same fact. There, the brothers are called Scar and Mufasa and the son Simba).
Eran feels the connection between the three places: female Mount Katherine, male Mount Moses and the monastery in ‘the Sacred Valley’ that connects and grounds the two. Where we as the three older men – Henk, Roland and I – represent the old(er) masculine, Eran, Sunday and Jamoo represent the young masculine. A new generation is rising. The Horuses of our time. The warriors of the Heart. The warriors of Shambhala.
We drink guava juice and cappuccino together on the terrace of the monastery and enjoy each other’s company, fellowship, love and humour. What an incredible journey we have accomplished. Our journey is almost over and it is time to say goodbye to the desert.
As we do a final meditation in the evening, I once again see Osiris. He puts a kind of crown on my head. He comes to stand next to Isis. The masculine and feminine become equal, symbolising the time to come.
I think back to the beginning of the journey, where I read the text: ‘You must be willing to trust to the end. You must knoweven though you cannot see… Only those who walk by faith must pass this final test.’
And then suddenly the magic happens. The power of open space. A nod from the universe…I draw a final card from the Egyptian tarot. It is the card of Osiris, with the face of Isis behind him. The text is: ‘Healing of the divine masculine. Osiris resurrects.’
THE END
<3 Thanks top the great team of men who joined this amazing journey! Roland van Mourik, Henk Kruithof, Sunday, Eran, Jamoo.
- NB Should you wish to support my writing cq light work, it would be most welcome! This allows me to continue with this work.😉 Every contribution helps! Donations are welcome to TREE OF LIFE foundation, TRIODOS BANK, IBAN: NL67 TRIO 0338 9423 43
