09/25/2025
Initiation Well at Quinta da Regaleira in Sintra, Portugal — the spiraling stone staircase descending into the earth, often linked with the Knights Templar, Freemasons, and Rosicrucians. I stand at the edge of the well, gazing into the spiral that carries me downward. Each archway, each step, feels like a threshold — not of stone alone, but of memory. The walls breathe with the whispers of the Templars, of seekers who once carried the Grail flame within their hearts.
As I descend, the spiral tightens, like the coils of the serpent awakening within me. My breath slows. I feel the weight of descent — not heavy, but holy. Each step is an unbinding, each curve of the stair a surrender.
When I reach the bottom, I am greeted by the star carved into stone — the compass of my soul. Here, in the womb of the earth, initiation is not given by another. It is born in the silence, in the union of shadow and light.
The well does not hold water; it holds reflection. I see myself as both the seeker and the path, both the knight and the grail. I bow to the circle beneath me, knowing that to rise again is to emerge renewed — a bearer of the hidden light.
And so, I begin the ascent, carrying the codes of remembrance up the spiral, step by step, until the sky above greets me as one reborn.
