Under the glyph
TPK Newsletter W16 2025
The universe keeps nudging me.
Following my last newsletter, I scribbled the Dagaz glyph—dawn, enlightenment—on a post-it and stuck it above my bedroom door. So I’d see it, feel it, not forget it. Thought nothing of it.
Yesterday, after work, I crashed for a nap. A knock woke me—an old roommate from years back. “Go back to sleep,” he said softly. Thinking it a dream, I did. Woke to find him on my couch. Not a dream.
For context, ever since I’ve had memories, I’ve always felt a sense of immense purpose, like I’m here for something big—a very dreadful purpose. It’s not ambition or ego; it’s a quiet, unshakable knowing, heavy as stone. I’ve never really had words to describe it, so I mostly don’t. It’s like carrying a map I can’t yet read, trusting the path will reveal itself. I thought everyone carried it, but it seems not.
What followed after he woke up was a 4+ hour conversation about life, death, symbols, sacred geometry, history, alchemy, gnosticism, hermetic principles, my own projects, the collapse of society, the structure of the soul—it touched basically everything I’ve learned and suffered these past years. I’m not sure how to describe it, but it re-contextualised everything I’ve ever experienced, all the suffering I’ve ever experienced as completely meaningful, and absolutely divine.
It seemed I was the right person for him on his path as well.
We had this conversation the day before Easter, Easter eve, while I was wearing this shirt:
I’m not really sure how else that information could have gotten to me, unless this one person (the only one in my life I know that I could have that conversation with), climbed my balcony and broke in to give it to me. Right under the glyph…
I’m on the path. I always have been. We’re close to something.
The last newsletter:
Mac
