![]() But lessons don’t work like that, do they? Not for me, anyway. I inherited my compulsion for plan-making from my father, whose need for control eventually killed him, so I should really have learned my lesson. Only you, suddenly lonely and with no way back. You get to where you wanted to be, and there is nothing else there. Sometimes you find that your plan is so good that you can’t escape from it. ![]() ![]() A plan can become, in an eye-blink, a cage arrayed around you like the swords in a tarot deck. You are not as good a sailor as you thought you were. Ha ha, you think, as you sail by, look at me! Look at my plan! I am in control of my life! I know how to sail! Usually you think this right before you hit a squall and end up in the sea, clinging to a plank of splintered wood. ![]() It’s a skill, making plans like this, containing your life and direction within them, a skill that can get you to places you always wanted to be, a skill that can get you out ahead of others who don’t have plans, who don’t have a direction. We begin with an extract from Paul’s new book, Savage Gods. The result is a series of explorations, in words and images, of the alchemical cycle of change: breakdown, rebirth and renewal. For this new series on The Clearing, Paul Kingsnorth asked writers and artists from across the world to respond in their own way to a simple, one-word theme: transformation. ![]()
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