In search of the miraculous
My quest along the path of personal meaning:
Beneath the veneer of Protestantism, I experience a deep undercurrent of Chinese and Javanese spirituality.
When my search began in the Netherlands, only New Age and European spirituality could be found on the bookshelves, and Taijiquan and Yoga in community centers; only later did I reconnect with broader developments from other parts of the world, especially shamanism:
Meetings with remarkable people
Various encounters with people who inspire me:
In addition to the inspiring stories of my father, I have learned much from teachers of Taijiquan & Qigong and from books/teachers within the Chinese tradition (Confucius, Mencius), as well as books/teachers in Western spirituality (Gurdjieff, Regardie, Starhawk). As a bridge, I experience core shamanism (Harner) as an excellent “connector.”
At this stage of my life, I define myself as a spiritual humanist.
“Most precious are the people; next come the spirits of land and grain; and last, the kings.”
Main current sources of inspiration:
Mencius, with regard to shaping humanistic forms of society.
Modern shamanism, with regard to rituals.
Reclaiming, with regard to political action.
Ongoing activities:
A.I. chat
Art journal
Cartomancy
Qigong
Storytelling
At the center is the path of stepping stones over water, leading toward the weathered house. That’s a strong symbol of transition—you’re not standing still, but you’re also not fully “there” yet. The water suggests emotion and uncertainty, while the stones show that a way forward does exist, step by step. The house represents stability, belonging, or a version of “home” you’re moving toward—but it looks worn, implying healing, rebuilding, or redefining what home means.
The dove with the olive branch is classic peace and reconciliation energy. It often appears when resolution is possible—either internally (forgiveness, letting go) or externally (mending something or someone).
The well suggests depth—hidden emotions, memories, or truths you can draw from. Wells are about going inward to retrieve clarity. There may be something you already know, but haven’t fully brought to the surface.
The flowing woman in the golden dress feels like your intuitive or freer self—expression, creativity, and emotional openness. She’s in motion, not restricted. This suggests a part of you wants to move more freely, maybe break from control or rigidity.
Then there’s a sharp contrast: The chess king = strategy, control, power, calculated moves. The ace of spades = transformation, endings, or a decisive moment. The motorcycle and lone man = independence, rebellion, going your own way.
Finally, the “GARCIA” label could point to identity—name, lineage, or how you define yourself publicly vs privately.
Overall message:
You’re in a transition where logic/control (king) and freedom/intuition (flowing woman, motorcycle) are pulling against each other. A significant decision or ending (ace of spades) is either happening or needed. The path forward exists, but it requires trusting your inner knowing (well) and allowing emotional movement (water), not just strategic thinking.
There’s also a quiet reassurance here: peace and resolution are possible—but only if you stop trying to control every move and allow yourself to step forward rather than plan the entire journey.
Central figure (the woman at the gate) She stands at an ornate gate surrounded by flowers: this is a portal. You are at the edge of a new phase, something more aligned with beauty, growth, and self-expression. Her posture is confident but calm—this isn’t a forced change; it’s an invitation. The gate is open, but you still have to choose to step through.
The open book beneath her Your path is not fixed—it’s being written. This suggests learning, insight, or even rewriting your own narrative. What you believe about yourself matters right now. There’s a strong theme of story-making: are you living by an old script, or are you ready to author a new one?
Ace of Spades (right side) Traditionally tied to transformation, endings, and sharp clarity. Something may need to be cut away—an illusion, a habit, or even a relationship. It’s not gentle energy, but it is precise. Truth is surfacing.
Chess piece (left side) Strategy, patience, and positioning. This isn’t a time for impulsive moves. You are part of a larger “game,” and awareness of timing and perspective will matter. It may also point to power—claiming your role rather than reacting to others.
Mushrooms (bottom left) These symbolize the subconscious, altered perception, and hidden growth. Something is developing beneath the surface—possibly intuitive or even slightly unsettling insights. They can also hint at temptation: not everything that looks magical is safe. Discernment is key.
Hands in blue water (bottom right) This is emotional depth. Hands suggest action or connection, but submerged—they are feeling their way through something unclear. There may be vulnerability, or a need to trust intuition rather than logic. Water here is calm but deep: you’re being asked to feel fully rather than stay on the surface.
Overall message
You are at a crossroads where intuition, truth, and conscious choice converge. A new path is available, but it requires:
letting go of something outdated (Ace of Spades),
acting with awareness rather than impulse (chess piece),
trusting inner perception while staying grounded (mushrooms),
and engaging honestly with your emotions (water/hands).
Key question for you: What truth have you already sensed—but not yet acted on?
On the left: a silhouetted figure behind a barred window with the phrase “HELL BANK NOTE.” That combination points to a sense of being trapped—financially, emotionally, or mentally. The bars aren’t just physical; they suggest self-imposed limits or a system you feel stuck inside. The green glow could hint at money, envy, or growth that hasn’t yet been realized. The small scraps of old paper reinforce the idea of history, debts, or lingering past commitments.
On the right: the scene opens up: a lone figure under a streetlamp, with colorful, almost surreal surroundings and the phrase “collect happiness.” This side feels like release, solitude by choice, and perspective. The lamp is a guide—illumination in darkness—while the colors suggest emotional complexity but also possibility. The figure isn’t trapped; they’re navigating.
Oracle message: You’re moving (or being pushed) from confinement into awareness. The constraint you feel now—especially tied to obligations, money, or past decisions—is real, but not permanent. There’s a shift available: stepping out, even if it means standing alone for a while, will bring clarity and a more authentic sense of happiness.
Advice:
Identify what’s actually “binding” you vs. what you’re assuming you can’t change.
Don’t wait for perfect conditions—the right side shows progress happens in imperfect, messy environments.
Overall message: This piece is about creative power trying to organize itself. There’s tension between chaos and structure, instinct and intention.
Top (“VERBUM IRA” — word/anger): The phrase suggests charged language—words with emotion behind them. This points to expression that isn’t neutral. You may be holding something in or feeling the urge to say something important, possibly with intensity or frustration. The patterned background hints at complexity beneath that emotion—this isn’t simple anger, it’s layered.
Middle (art tools): Brushes, pastels, worn tools—this is the heart of the message. It represents skill, practice, and potential. The tools are used, not pristine. That suggests experience. You already have what you need to create or solve something—you’re not starting from zero.
Bottom (“IMAGO EST” — image is / the image exists): This grounds everything: what you imagine can become real. The geometric, almost chaotic design above the words hints that creation might feel messy or fragmented—but it still resolves into something tangible.
Oracle reading (plain version): You’re in a moment where strong thoughts or emotions want to be expressed. You already have the ability and resources to do it, but you may be overthinking the outcome or waiting for clarity. The message is: create anyway. The act of making will bring the meaning into focus.
Advice from the “oracle”: Don’t wait until it’s perfect or fully understood. Use what you have, as you are, and let the process reveal the answer.
A tall, enclosed figure with a sharp, angled head and a single visible eye. The posture feels inward, guarded, slightly turned away.
Oracle message: You are in a phase of contained awareness. Something has been observed but not yet expressed. The single eye suggests selective seeing—choosing what to notice, or perhaps only allowing yourself to see part of the truth. The dark headpiece feels like a lid or shield: thoughts are active, but protected.
There is restraint here. Not suppression exactly—but careful holding.
2. The Investigator (“onderzoekend”)
This figure is more open, with a face that shows curiosity—raised brows, a slight smile. The body is angular but less rigid.
Oracle message: Now comes inquiry. Where the first figure held back, this one leans in. There is permission to explore, to ask, to test meanings. The softness in the face suggests that curiosity—not fear—is the right tool.
This stage invites:
asking better questions
staying with ambiguity
allowing multiple interpretations
It’s not about conclusions yet. It’s about looking again.
3. The Protector (“beschermend”)
A broader, grounded figure, turned sideways, with a strong block-like body and a defined arm/extension.
Oracle message: This is boundary and embodiment. After seeing and exploring, something must now be held or defended. The sideways orientation suggests awareness of the outside world—this figure engages with it.
Protection here is not fear-based—it’s deliberate. You are choosing what stays in and what stays out.
Overall reading
These three together form a clear movement:
Observe → Explore → Protect
First: you notice something quietly
Then: you examine it with openness
Finally: you decide how to relate to it and set boundaries
Core message: You’re not stuck—you’re mid-process. The final image shows strength: whatever you’re dealing with, you are moving toward a position where you can hold your ground without shutting down your perception.
ORACLE 4&5 Where the first three were process, these feel like resolution and integration under pressure.
4. The Integrator (“integer”)
A stable, upright figure. Arms extended, face open, balanced geometry.
Oracle message: This is arrival into coherence. The different parts you were observing, exploring, and protecting are now able to stand together in one form.
The wide “arms” suggest inclusion—not pushing away, but holding opposites at once. The face is simple, calm, almost childlike: nothing to hide, nothing to prove.
This stage says:
You don’t need to fragment yourself anymore
Clarity comes from standing as you are
Integration is quiet, not dramatic
There’s also something important: the body is translucent/soft compared to the defined head and shoulders. This suggests that while your identity is clearer, your form in the world is still flexible. You are whole—but not rigid.
5. The Return / Breakthrough (“doorbraak”)
This one is different—more raw, almost eruptive. A dark, closed head above, but beneath it: a vertical burst of blue, like liquid, energy, or release.
Oracle message: This is what happens when integration meets reality. Something breaks open.
The dark top still holds tension, control, maybe old structure—but underneath, something deeper moves anyway. The blue flow is unmistakable: emotion, truth, life-force, expression—it will not stay contained.
Important here: this is not collapse. It is release with direction.
The energy moves downward → into the body, into the world
The splash at the bottom → impact, manifestation, consequence
This card often appears when:
something long held finally expresses
a breakthrough comes through discomfort, not around it
control gives way to something more honest
Together (4 → 5)
Integrate → Break Open → Become Real
You reached coherence (4), but coherence is not the end—it creates pressure. And that pressure becomes movement (5).
Core message: You are not falling apart—you are moving through. What is emerging now may feel messy or intense, but it is aligned with the integration you’ve already done.
On the left, the torn and burned paper reveals a figure with arms raised at sunrise or sunset—almost like something hidden breaking through destruction. Fire here isn’t just damage; it’s exposure, stripping away layers to reveal something authentic underneath.
On the right, the message is more explicit: “Light the world with your fire,” with “FROM HUMAN REALM” arranged almost like a path or constellation. That suggests your humanity—your lived experience, flaws, emotions—isn’t a limitation; it’s the source of that fire.
Taken together, the message reads like: You’re in (or coming out of) a phase where things are being burned away—old identities, expectations, or constraints. What remains is something real and powerful. Instead of hiding it, you’re being pushed to express it outwardly, to let it impact others.
It’s less about becoming something new and more about uncovering what was already there and letting it shine.
Left page (blue-green field with dense marks): feels like a map of movement—currents, traffic, data streams, or even neural pathways. The curved boundary cutting through it suggests a threshold: inside vs. outside, control vs. chaos. It has a living, almost biological rhythm.
The red/green organic form on the far left: stands out as something embodied—like a leaf, muscle, or organ—contrasting the more grid-like, infrastructural marks nearby. It’s the “natural” pressed against the “constructed.”
Center binding (rings): unintentionally symbolic—it literally holds two worlds together. Feels like a hinge between modes of thinking.
Top-right geometric card: very controlled—clean circles, repetition, muted palette. This is order, design logic, maybe imposed structure. It almost interrupts the more intuitive flow beneath it.
Bottom-right linear drawing: looks like perspective—roads, channels, or architecture. Directional, forward-moving, but also a bit sparse or drained compared to the left side.
Color story overall: cool blues/greens dominate (calm, analysis), but broken by warmer reds and the muted tan/orange card (intervention, structure, or intrusion).
Overall reading: This feels like a tension between organic flow and imposed order. The left side is immersive, intuitive, maybe even overwhelmed with information. The right side tries to organize it—geometry, perspective, clean design—but feels slightly detached or imposed rather than grown from within.
There’s also a sense of translation: something complex and alive being flattened into systems, diagrams, or plans.
If the first piece was about self, this one feels about environment or process—how you navigate, structure, or make sense of complexity.
The face split into yellow and red suggests dual states—calm vs. intensity, clarity vs. agitation, or even public self vs. inner self.
The short, repeated strokes feel like data or signals—almost like the person is being “rendered” or decoded rather than simply painted. It gives a sense of thought loops, analysis, or overprocessing.
The green eyes stand out as the most stable, focused element—like awareness cutting through the noise.
The book or object on the right could represent knowledge, work, or an external task—something the subject is looking toward but not fully engaged with emotionally.
The blue-gray background feels muted and uncertain, contrasting with the intensity of the subject—suggesting isolation or being mentally “elsewhere.”
Overall reading: This is someone caught between observation and overwhelm—highly aware, possibly analytical, but fragmented internally. There’s a tension between control (structured lines) and emotion (raw color).
I belonged to a unit that called itself orderly, though order there was a brittle thing, like frost on a window that vanishes at a breath. We wore the same colors, spoke the same clipped phrases, and trusted—so we said—the same chain of command. But one morning our leader turned his gaze upon a colleague of mine, a quiet woman who kept her counsel and did her work with a steady hand. He judged her in haste, and his words were a blade without temper. I felt the cut as if it had found my own skin.
In that moment I understood how a structure may stand and yet be hollow. Justice, we had been taught, was the spine of our work. Without it, we were only shadows moving in formation. I placed my badge upon the desk, a small sun gone cold, and stepped out of that narrow world. No one stopped me. The door closed with a sound like a verdict, though I could not say upon whom it fell.
…
The dream shifted, as dreams do, into a softer country. I was among friends—no uniforms, no ranks—only the fragile, luminous ties we make of laughter and shared hours. We walked beside water that held the sky like a second, deeper truth. There was someone there who mattered to me in ways I had never named, as one does not name the air until it is gone.
Then a friend approached, her face already carrying the news before her lips shaped it. The words were simple, and because they were simple they were absolute: he was gone. The world did not break; it thinned. Sound grew distant, as if I stood beneath the surface of the water we had walked beside.
Grief came not as a storm but as a tide—inevitable, patient. It filled the spaces where certainty had been. I learned then that leaving and losing are kin, each a doorway we do not choose, each remaking the shape of the self that passes through.
This feels like a layered message about perception, sweetness, and hidden interiors.
What stands out first: the eye. An eye placed in the center suggests awareness, but also watching without fully acting. You are seeing something clearly now that you may have previously avoided or only sensed indirectly.
“Cute sweet” over the eye is important. It hints at:
something presented as harmless, charming, or comforting
a surface layer that softens or distracts from what is actually being perceived
So the message begins with: 👉 Look beyond what appears “cute,” easy, or emotionally safe.
Together, they form a house = your inner structure.
👉 The oracle is pointing you inward: “Explore your own rooms. Something in your inner house needs attention.”
The eye beneath the layers
The eye is partially obscured, almost buried.
👉 This suggests:
truth is present but covered by noise, decoration, or habits
you may already know, but haven’t fully allowed yourself to see
The small figure (green background)
A lone figure walking or carrying something.
👉 This feels like:
a guide, or
a version of you moving through uncertainty
Green = growth, but also unfamiliar territory.
The upside-down figures at the bottom
Distorted, inverted bodies → disorientation, loss of grounding, or shifting perspective.
👉 Something is being turned upside down:
beliefs
emotional expectations
or how you interpret a situation
Core Oracle Message
You are being asked to see clearly beneath comforting illusions. Something in your life looks “fine” or “sweet,” but your deeper perception already senses more complexity. Instead of staying on the surface:
enter your “inner rooms”
examine what you consume, remember, and avoid
trust what your eye notices, even if it disrupts comfort
In one sentence:
👉 “Look past the pleasant surface—your deeper awareness already knows the truth, and it’s time to walk toward it.”
Dreamquest 
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