I fell in love with classical literature as a teenager, especially Greek drama, and never quite recovered—in the best way. Those plays didn’t feel ancient to me; they felt accurate. They named desires, fears, power struggles, and moral tensions I could already recognise in myself and in the world around me.

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The more I explored, the more I came to feel that myths are not just stories, but models—models for meaning, for living in rhythm with nature (including our own), for navigating conflict and change, and for sensing the deeper forces that shape our inner and outer worlds. Storytelling is the technology our ancestors used to pass on their wisdom.

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I also came to think of myths as living things. Like trees, they drop seeds into the psyche. Some lie dormant for years. Others take root immediately. Over time, they grow into what you need—sometimes shelter during life’s storms, sometimes fruit when you’re depleted, sometimes blossoms that draw in new ideas, questions, and ways of seeing.

 

And so this space aims to be a meeting place where ancient stories meet modern lives; where myth is treated not as escapism, but as practical wisdom, and where likeminded souls can meander and muse.

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