Why Lyon?

I don’t know.
No message this time. No coordinates whispered from above.
Just a quiet, precise and magnetic pull.

This fractal journey began with something as mundane as an expired driver’s license.
Before leaving Bogotá on September 8, the path was clear: Rome → Visoko → Sarajevo → Glastonbury → the Romanian loop → Belgrade → Glastonbury. Then, suddenly, Slovenia appeared — and with it, the Dolomites.

Slovenia made sense: dragons and ley lines.

But the Dolomites?

When Suly asked, “Where should we go after Ljubljana?”, the word “Dolomites” leapt from my mouth before I could think.

I still don’t know why.

I have never longed to go there.
Never met anyone who has.
Never read, seen, or dreamt of those mountains.
And yet the unexplainable certainty.

At the beginning of October, tracing the route from Ljubljana to the Dolomites, the map naturally curved through Venice or Treviso — both shimmering with the presence of the lion, both in the Veneto region, land of my paternal grandfather, who was born in Maserada sul Piave. Beyond lineage I was excited to reconnect with the fertile geography and social landscapes embedded in my DNA.

Treviso: from tarvos (Celtic) + isium (Latin) = Tarvisium.  In Celtic mythology tarvos is the bull, and it also related to the lion or Leo (Eastern astrology).

Venice: name of an ancient Illyrian tribe, one of the three primordial Balkan people.

Home of the ancient, winged lion in St. Mark´s Square.

The winged lion that appears in the flag of the Republic of Venice.  

The lion, symbol of St. Mark the evangelist, the patron saint.  

The Golden Lion, the prize of the Venice International Film Festival.   

But with no driver’s license, no way north to the Dolomites. The path turned and a different route began to form.

And it began with Kathe.

At first, I felt we should travel to the Dolomites together. I let it go when the plan collapsed.

Then, a week ago, she mentioned Egypt — also following her inner summons. Many of us are being moved across the planet now, guided by invisible threads — intuition, memory, ascended masters, echoes of a deeper design.

On October 18, I wrote to her:

CT: I don’t feel I should go to Egypt with you. What resonates is that we should travel together.
Kathe: As soon as you get more information, tell me. And if you ever want to visit me in Lyon, I’d be happy to welcome you. Lately I’ve learned a lot about the city and its luminous story.
CT: That really resonates — me going to Lyon… and its surroundings.  I had no idea what the surroundings were.
Kathe: Perfect. I’m here until November 6, then off to Egypt. Let me know what works.
CT: Would October 26 to November 1 work? I feel I should be in Glastonbury by the 1st.
Kathe: Yes!
CT: Good. Let me get my ticket.

And so, I did!

Lyon

In French, it sounds like lion.  

In English, it refers to Lyon King of Arms, chief herald of Scotland.

Lyon. Loch Ness. Lake Titicaca.

Suddenly I perceive the alignment of the luminous feline grid, weaving continents, hinting at the integration of the divine feminine and the divine masculine.  Not as opposites, but as two rays woven into one divine light.

And so, the journey