The Parsonage Story

The energy of my tantra initiation follows me into sleep — and I become the wrathful dakini Simhamukha.

A secret tantric initiation, a red blindfold — and a prophecy that changes everything.

I’m on my way to the retreat house at the end of the world, to practice magical tantra. Hypnotized by the landscape, by music, by a dream that’s tuning itself to what’s coming.

He has been wandering around my room for years — my devil. The search for a symbol for one’s own darkness leads deeper than expected: from Zen collapse to a first encounter with the shadow.

Written at a time when I had no idea where all of this would lead. The backstory of a series on Tantra, dreams and a rectory in northern Germany.

On the train back from Upper Bavaria, the strange feeling came over me that somewhere out there, a place was calling. That night I dreamed of an old evangelical parsonage with a pond. The next morning, I found the listing online.

Wish yourself a dream,’ my inner voice whispered. I had no idea that by the following morning, the dream would lead me to the place I now call home.