Island

In the Language of Mind, an island is an isolated state of mind — a part of yourself cut off from the rest of who you are. Read its form and function: an island is land standing alone, surrounded on every side by water and severed from the mainland. Land is subconscious mind-substance, the ground your inner self is built on; water is conscious life experience. So an island is a piece of your own subconscious self that the tide of daily experience has fenced off — a way of being, a belief, a part of you holding itself apart from the continent of the whole self, reachable only by crossing water. Examine where in your waking life you have quietly marooned some part of yourself — withdrawing, going it alone, keeping one room of you separate from the rest. Read the variations the way you'd read a coastline: a lush, sunlit island is a rich inner resource you've isolated but could reconnect, while a barren or storm-battered island is a part of you stranded and starved by experience you haven't yet understood; alone on it is self-imposed solitude, marooned and trying to leave is a part of you straining to rejoin the whole. That is one symbol, read clean. The water that surrounds it, the boat that could carry you across, the figure waiting on the far shore are still speaking. Your subconscious talks to you every night in this exact language; CHITTA is simply where you learn to read the rest of the sentence. Go within, or go without.