These Elements

I have long felt the draw of water. I have felt its power drawing me to this abyss and these unseen depths. I have felt that pull to these murky renditions of things I can only sense at. I have simply called it a fear of drowning and I did indeed gulp in water when I was very young and unable to swim. But this is more. This is a response viscerally to the power of this element. Reflections and refractions. Images and haunting swirls and colors. Hints of another realm. I feel this emotional response to be so much more now. I feel that water is my spirit in physical form. I am water and water is myself. I am full of her and she fills me. We push and pull at each other and call and hearken by turns. She is mercurial and I am moody. My emotions are stirred and tears slip down my dry and cracked cheeks. She is more than me and then I am full of her, words growing inadequate in the cup that runs over and over and spills inside of me.


And I wondered at the power earth when she remains so unmoving. And I never really understood her to be so powerful until that drive thru the mountains and along those winding roads. And then I knew as I felt so small among so many tall and standing rocks. They were power to make me feel so very minute. And I raised my eyes up and up and up. And finally to rest on those craggy tops. And I knew. I knew the power of earth with its grandness and its strength. And I have always felt strength after driving or hiking thru the mountains and now I understand why. And I cut my dirt encrusted finger on a stone, the bloody mark of red on brown and becoming brown and becoming earth. I raise my being and eventually my arms and I feel as tall as I can next to the power of earth and she somehow becomes me. I press myself against a rocky face and I am camouflaged beside this standing stone. My blood surges and stands still for one brief moment. And I am this tall rock and this craggy visage to watch all and grow wise. Strength is standing without moving.


The element of air has befuddled and emboldened me with his whipping and pulling at my hair I am at once outraged and strengthened. . I feel this anger in being unable to think. My thoughts are torn away in a strong and frustrating gust. Now a gentle breeze brings a deep smile to my face and some tiny thought of intuitive knowing. I have yielded as if to a lovers kiss and I feel a deep response in my soul, yielding and bending. And yet again, a cold chill comes over me with the push of winter's breath. And I see my lips blue and cold and my own being frozen amongst the chilled drifts created in those raucous moments of blowing and forcing. Spirals and drafts and currents take my mind on a wild ride, a mental roller coaster of sorts, and I am powerless at times to stop my spirit from arcing and bending and taking flight whether it be of a violent nature or something more floating. These things come together now for me to represent this element of air that I so often have misunderstood. I feel as tho I will harness it now to be as I need or even allow myself to be controlled to experience the truest and most organic freedom of flight.


Blazing fiery sun and soft candle flame. Roaring pot bellied stove and crackling campfire. Raging forest fire and tiny sparklers held by my little son's soft hand. Long have my spirits lifted in the face of these representations. Fire warms and fire heartens and fire sparks inside of me. Fire has always lifted my spirits. Fire is my spirit. Unlike most, I can find meaning in a cloudy day and I defy saying I need the sun more when asked. But in truth I need it as much and maybe more than those that complain about the May weeks which hold very little sunshine. My fiery nature comes alive on the days the sunlight streams and dances thru green and swirling leaves. I feel him fill my being with intensity and meaning. I watch the sun make its steady path across my kitchen floor with almost mesmerized wonder. I am drawn as a cat to the rays that fill more than just my body with warmth. I begin to glow as I fill with his being and I feel it deep in my soul and find old bits of darkness loosening their steady hold. O yellow warmth and everything glowing golden, I lift my arms to you and feel this fire deep in my soul, sparking and igniting. I am one with the golden hue.


Soft whispers, violent portendings, arching and aching and responding -These elements speak so clearly to me. I believe they always have and I remember being a child in the heart of nature and finding nothing dark at all within me. All these bits of myself drawn and sewn together in the strength and the raw power so very evident as I walk with mother earth. My feet feel the damp soil and the sharp rock. My hair catches in the breezes and shivers tremble down my spine. I watch a river racing and then running back on itself and I feel the whispers of death and life and the ability to take me whole and never return. Destruction and creation joined as one. I raise my hands to the sun and whisper his name so delicately on my lips. I take flight and my feet touch the loamy darkness. Water runs in rivulets down my spine and over my breasts creating the only dress I need. I am wise in these moments and I am connected to something so much greater than I AM..

Earth

Those claw footed beasts reach so deep into the travailing water. There's a grand foot placed at each bend in the road. I look up and up their craggy legs and I am stunned by the strength of so much power in rippled stone and rock face. I feel this power drawing and drawing. I know why gravity pulls. I know now why the element of earth is so distinct and so present and all powerful. And I long to press my body against those stone faces and against that smooth rock wall. I long to stretch myself thin over that surface and be drawn into it and become one with it. I cannot be me but rather I would become one. I am all and I am we. Me is we turned on its head. We are meant to be we more than me is meant to be. And that craggy leg calls to me in power and authority and I am awed by its presence.

Slowly I draw my eyes away. Now this rough barked tree and now this rocky outcropping. I am so touched by the power of earth today. And then I realize all the elements blend together in one cohesive tangible and poignant moment. Sun burning fire thru the trees - ahhh the sun. I am so much more aware of him since I have drawn him into myself. I am less afraid of his power now that I feel his warmth. This warmth that makes me grow and turn and evolve and keeps me living. And I feel the earth below and around and I touch that dirt that stains my fingers. And I feel the air rush thru my hair and I feel like I can fly. I reach my arms wide and side to side. And I step so lightly and I feel like I can just push off but then I become aware of my body. Just enough earth to moor me and I curse this human form once more. I don't want to be bound by this cage and this shell and this temple. I feel my spirit arcing in defiance. One more rising and one more attempt but that is futile for the time being.

But I can pretend and so I do. I spread my arms wide and tiptoe down this narrow path. I feel the air and the earth and the sun. I feel the water of blood rushing thru my veins. My entire being is at once a river with deltas and rivulets and rushing streams and raging torrents. And I feel this water that is more my essence than any other. I am always more aware of my water than of my fire. And still my heart beats with that element of sun and shine. And I am alive - so very alive. I am all the elements and they are me. And I am at one with nature. I hear this bird chirp and it is my mind and my soul in song. And I hear this crunch of dirt and gravel and I am playing this intricate rhythmic patter. I am all and I am nothing. I am earth and I am dust but I can move and live and have being in this frail moment. I am so high. And I am so low. I am everything and i am nothing right now.

I am so many swirling words. That element of air and swords and cutting and flying. I hear them - o so many as to drown me. Is it possible to drown from air. Or can air be weighty and unwieldy enough to crush the very life of me? And I feel crushed under the power of so much that can't be released in this moment. I could scream and nothing would come out. I could chant and my feet wouldn't move and my face would be unreadable. I could hear the flow of my bloody rivers and know nothing but their rush and their torrent and their sound. And I could lay flat and blend with the earth but for these stubborn things that won't let me rest.

I am undone. And I am overcome. And I am overwhelmed in the face of more and the being of more and the chant of more and more and more and more. And there is no rest from more. I am always more than I can stand. I am always more than I can rest. I am always more than I can type. And I am always more than I can play. And I am always more than my music. I am more than I can express. I hurt and there is no release. And I wail but there is no sound. And I dig but there is no progress. I am just these swords flying back and forth and never finding their mark. I am these wands and these darts and these actions and these imaginings but nothing tangible.

I want to hold the earth. The earth. maybe the earth is what I need more than anything right now. I grasp it. I hold it. I feel it shift in my hands. I feel it fall between my fingers. Dark loamy wet earth. It is so fragrant and it reaches some where in me that is so frantic and stills that aspect of me. It even stills my fingers now. I feel its weight. And I look up and these mountains tower so high over me and I am made small and I am brought to nothing but in a way that comforts. I am made of no regard by these beings so much grander than my self.

I raise my hands and bow my head. I am not and I am come. I am one with this earth. My rivers still. And my blood slows. And I hear the steady thud of my heart beat. I press against this rock and I listen to it hammer inside and slowly begin to hammer this rock that stands so far above me. And slowly the vibration grows and grows and grows and the mountain begins to shudder in each beat that my heart pounds. My heart has become the mallet to create the sound that fills the heavens, that fills the universe. O beat so steady. O fill me grand vibration. I am shaking these grand beasts - they have drawn me to themselves. They have let me be as powerful as they are. I stand eyes closed and just feel the tremble of each pounding. I am one with the mountain and my heart connects so deeply with earths throbbing. We pulse together and my feet no longer seem to support me. Rather I am become this rock and this mountain and I feel my face grow craggy and gray. And I stretch to fit and I shrink to hide deep in this crevice. I am no longer anything but earth itself and the pounding stills and I am so still. And now I quiet. And my mind quiets. At last, I am one with earth and I understand her grand presence. She is the mother I have sought so deeply in my yearning.

The World Card

I slowly let my mind clear and draw in a deep breath. I allow it to escape my nostrils and then again draw in, all the while drawing the world card in with it. I see a young woman in the center, wrapped in a scarf. The card begins to take wings and I notice the scarf swirls about her in a wind that feels triumphant and clearing. The scarf flutters and catches and jumps and spirals. I am mesmerized by it's fluid dance. I softly let my breath release again and the image falls back from my eyes. And again, I draw it in noticing this time a deep and verdant green wreath. It is thick and full of millions of tiny and distinct shiny dark green leaves. I reach to touch the firm binding and realize it is tied tightly with crimson chords in the shapes of eights. And I run my hand along the leaves gently feeling them flutter and catch at my fingertips. They are so deeply green and I feel my focus fill with their essence. The red of each figure eight catches at me in a peculiar way. I feel this is so much yesterday and today and tomorrow all in my focus. I am unbound and I am limitless.


Reach and stretch and fill myself with this air that swirls around me. I am free and unfettered and there is euphoria in every limb and in every glance over this bright blue and green. I see the entire mother earth below me and I feel the expanse of sky so far above me. I am flying. I feel as if I am in a hot air balloon - buoyed by the decisions of my past that have led me to this glorious place. I myself have come to this point. I have persevered and placed and planted and nurtured and now I am born up by the universe and the power of air and earth and sea and fiery sun. I have overcome and I feel this smile reach over my lips in gentle realization. My feet feel so light and I step without feeling the ground but I don't feel unstable. I am amongst the clouds and I am full of spirit and hope. I have overcome so much to be at this point in my heart and my soul and physical being. These challenges and these mountains I have climbed and traversed have only made me rise higher and higher until at last I have taken flight. I feel this deep tingle race thru my limbs much as how it feels when I stretch first thing in the morning. Every muscle coming alive and aching to meet the new day.

I look to my left and I startle to realize a golden lion staring back at me - his gaze is fierce and yet amused. Deep brown eyes seem to take me into their depths and I radiate to him in return. And I realize he seems to support this quarter of the wreath. Intrigued, I gaze around the circumference of the wreath to see three more creatures all watching me intently. They seem to be aspects of myself. And I feel this courage in noticing a large bull to my right and a fanciful cherub above me. But I am riveted as I notice sailing above me, a huge and radiant eagle. His wings extend far beyond the clouds and the wreath although his sharp talons are sunk deep into the wreath carrying it forward. I watch the power that ripples thru his wings in each stroke and beat of his flying. He is so majestic and the lion so full of strength. The cherub is wise beyond the babyish features with eyes of the purest blue. Eyes that see far beyond the atmosphere and into the universe beyond these veils. And the bull snorts and stomps his hot and blazing breath. He radiates undiluted energy and red coursing intensity. As I gaze into each set of eyes in turn, I feel as though I gaze into a mirror and see these reflections of my own being staring back at me. I realize I am looking at myself.

I have joined all these aspects and energies and facets of myself into perfect harmony. I beat my powerful wings. I charge forward sure and strong. I asses with wonder and love and I take a giant leap of creativity and fiery courage. Out of these clouds of spirit and mirth and rejuvenation, I find myself reborn and my inner soul feeling everything as if for the first time.

I go forward confident in the grasp of these creatures that seem to propel me onward and hold this wreath of life around me. I am infinite and my gaze is all knowing. I am surrounded and yet supported. I am lifted and yet so stable and grounded. I twirl and my scarf twirls with me. I dance in celebration wearing nothing else in vulnerability and openness of this moment. I am receptive to the universe and the sky above and the earth below. I am vibrant and free and unfettered and flying.

Anxiety: a Reflection

Sometimes the feelings are so great. Sometimes it seems like I jumped in the deep end of the pool and I forgot how to swim. Sometimes it seems like it is clawing at me from the inside and then it is outside and it is everywhere and it is these waves of desperation. The hair on my head stands on edge. Somebody say something to ease it? Do you like me? Did I say it all wrong? Please write me back? Call me? Text me? Make this stop. Stop thinking!!! No one can reach me now. I am lost in this flurry of thoughts that have no feet and only wings.


It is so much like the old TV screens with their bad signal. It is this start of a fuzzy corner or a fuzzy side and then there are these jagged disruptions across the screen - little angry triangles of disruption and static. And then they grow bigger and start to distort more and more of the picture and there's this buzzing sound with each of them that grows and grows. The person in the tv is still speaking. Talking and I can no longer make sense of his words. And I find myself more focused on that buzzing sound and that collection of angry z's then I do on the actual picture any more. I am preternaturally focused on the static and I can't see or hear anything else and that buzzing grows and grows until it is all that I can hear.


And the picture growing more and more distorted is life itself - life is going on. Change a diaper, cook this dinner, fold that wash, practice, teach, vacuum, get the mail but the buzzing keeps up at a more and more frantic pace and those triangles are jaggedly splaying across my screen so much so that I start to see in black and white and see those tiny boxes and pixelations. I try to pretend they aren't there. I try madly to focus on something else. Nail down a thought that makes sense. Remember something someone said that helped. But I am hopeless and lost and I can't remember anything right now. I can't organize this helpless chaos. I can't make sense of so much pandemonium. And now even those speaking to me seem so far away and their voices are detached from their mouths. The mouth moves but I hear no words and I put my hands over my ears in terror.


I remember them even when I was tiny. I used to have a flicker of something - almost as if my own voice had been rendered in a digital way inside of my head and I would get scared. I knew it might get worse. My inner mind voice turning into this sound of something unnatural and computer like. And when I was younger, I was so terrified and I didn't understand what was happening. My parents were no help. They taught that demons could oppress and if left unchecked, possess. And I would wonder if this was the start of that and I would run from it and try desperately to find a place where no one would let it take me. But then even my mom's motions seemed stilted and robotized and my brothers in motion, seemed like tiny puppets on my screen. And I couldn't reach anyone and the voice in my head grew louder and more fragmented and was suddenly broken in tiny chunks of something that didn't sound like me at all. My own voice grown strange with no inflection but only uniform tone. And I would feel myself crawling and my skin turning to ants.


I am not sure what would make it fade. Running as fast as I could thru the tall pine trees. Jumping a hundred times on my tiny trampoline. Listening to music as loud as I dared. And then these disruptions began to fade and I would again feel the grass beneath my bare feet or hear my younger brother screaming in youthful joy. Climb a tree and feel the warm sun on my tiny freckled face. Trace the outline of my tattered stick pony. Pick a small pink wild flower and place it in a jar of rain water. Those things would bring me back to this childish reality that was so appealing and I would often forget the fear of those strange moments in the interim that was all wild and free and unfettered.


And now I suppose it is much the same way but now I fear more what can come after - there is this darkness that edges in with those triangles. I notice the fuzzing at the sides of my mind. I notice that faint buzzing and I feel myself start to fear what I know will come - this anxiety that is so large as to consume and in its aftermath, this quiet that is unnatural and fearful and so dark. I feel this deep sadness and this dazed feeling - this inability to reflect and even act. I am struggling to keep the motions of life and move my hand this way or that. Piano chords are so damn heavy and cooking from a recipe seems so complicated and overwhelming. And my head aches and my joints feel soft and watery and I feel that the anxiety has passed to leave this battered calm. A calm that is more of a void.


And then perhaps it rises from there - perhaps I am back to normal more or less the next day or perhaps I have sunk again into that leaden dark place that is so hard to get out of. Sometimes anxiety is the portal to my depression. But the loud cacophony is for now silent and maybe I can be too - fill it, fill it with music, with soft words, beautiful imagery or tiny breaths of . Try to find a spiritual inspiration - try to hold it. These things are so slippery and so soft and so light. I wish they were heavier. I wish these beautiful things were as weighty as this darkness because maybe then they could displace these deep cesspools of murkiness.

The Devil

I am walking in memory of the sun. It has drifted towards the western horizon and I have watched its decent with a feeling of premonition. I know this setting hasn't been as it always is. There is something weighty about this slowly falling darkness. And I wander among the trees that have turned into darkened giants with so many arms and legs and whispers amongst themselves.


As I keep walking, I glance to my right and notice a dark and door-less cave. And I see something shifting beyond. I stand here in the preternatural twilight frozen in a moment of indecision. And then in one moment of quick impulse, I duck into the dark cavern. And immediately I am struck by this sensuous overwhelming. There is music but I didn't hear it before. This music has no discernible harmony; only this deep monotonous beat and slowly changing chords. Pulsing and pulsing and I am drawn farther in. I feel my heart quicken in the feelings that overcome me. They are feelings of euphoria and finding all that I need and my mind begins to simply absorb and not create any of its own unique thoughts. I am starting to move with this pulse and this beat.


I feel my heart hammering and I am aroused and curious. I notice others with me now and everyone is moving to this deep and earthly beat. This cave is now so far beneath the earth and I am commanded by it and I begin to feel light and heady. It is a lovely feeling and I realize I am drinking and I feel this wash over me. I feel so giddy and light and overcome by everything sensual. I am simply responding to my environment in movement and emotion. And I am so happy. And I realize their are lights. Mostly spotlights of sorts. I can see their source but they don't seem to reach me except for faint blue and red glows. Everyone is caught in this faint light and everyone around me seems to be disembodied. I see a head here or an arm here. There a leg or a shoe. But nothing full or completely defined. It adds to this feeling of being in a place of dreams coming true. I am confident and I am able and I am completely unrestrained. I am dancing and I am grooving and I moving harder and harder against this raucous beat and still I tread deeper into this cave. I swirl the wine in my glass laughing at myself and the lightness. I am free and I am not anxious. Deeper into this cup I swim. I am only flesh and beat and blood and bumping along. And I feel my feet less and less and my body moves of it's own accord. This is freedom and I am free and I am uplifted.


At once I feel this chill wind and look up to see something emerging in the darkness. There is a pedestal being pushed by some unseen force. I raise my eyes to see what is atop the pedestal. My eyes are heavy and languid. It is a golden and red calf. I realize in a half delirious state that he is alive and yet he is so very much a statue. I am reminded of those painted statues in Europe - they are flesh and blood but painted to be as tho they are not. And tiny movements give away the pulsing force within. And I realize this bronze creature is huge. he is massive and he fills the entire vision I have. His calf legs and torso are looming so far above on this pedestal somehow being propelled into the center of this cave. We all scramble to make room and to adjust because none of us can take our eyes off this compelling image. I notice the calf's eyes and they are dark and drawing and I find I can NOT wrest my eyes from the unbreakable gaze. I am drawn into their depths as I take another deep sip of my drink. My cup has grown so heavy and the wine so thick and burning.


I find things brighter now - a bright blue-white spot light rests on him and illuminates this shocking being. He seems more lifelike than a minute ago and truly it seems his coppery shell is slipping away as he is becoming this flesh with coarse hair and rippled swarthy skin. He is ugly and coarse and yet he seems so base and sexual and I long to touch what he might feel like. I find my fingers reaching towards him for he is closer now. He is slowly turning and I ache to see his deep and fluid eyes . He is like a man with goat like features and his face is everything strong and masculine and powerful and raw. It is almost as if his face does not have enough skin and I see the blood pulsing in his cheeks and his temples. But the thin skin that does cover his angular face is rough and full of thorny whiskers. Horns of shimmering white and wet bone curl out of his head and he is puffing and blowing this air across all of us here in this pit. He is breathing hard and grunting in something that we all seem to respond to.


I feel even lighter and even more euphoric and I ache to get closer even tho I am repulsed in the same moment. He is deeply sexual and deeply animal. He is carnal and he is strong. He is mighty and sinewy. I need what he has and I feel that I will feel more alive then ever if I can just get closer and maybe even touch his rough and hairy skin, if I can feel this pulsing I can see. And now he jumps down in one swoop, having half the form of a unkempt and powerful man and half the form of this rough and uncouth goat and he whoops and yells into the crowd and we yell back. I dance harder and the music escalates and I feel myself throwing back the wine into my parched throat. I feel its burn all the way to my stomach and I swallow satisfied and rich. And I am dancing and feeling and not thinking at all. And my body bumps against others and I find these these others to be groping and handling me as well. And I reach out and touch skin and rough cloth and feel and realize it is another dancer and we cling each to the other caught in a half frenzied sexual dance. Moving moving and turning and clawing. And we reach for each other and push against each other. I feel his hardness pressed against me thru thin fabric and I feel his desire and it stinks and I feel overcome. And I begin to feel this sickness as it spreads first from my naval and then up thru my throat and mouth and I feel cold and clammy. I begin to shake a little and I push away and turn and I push thru the crowd.


I am so sick and nauseous. I can feel the beat and now it hammers at me in such intensity and I am blinded and my head pounds in an unnatural and overwhelming pain. Slick sweat spreads itself over me. The entrance!! Where is the god forsaken entrance?? The exit. I can't think, and in one moment I am against the cavern walls that are damp and slimy and I feel along them with shaking fingers and suddenly I am sick all over the floor and myself and I reek of vomit and pain and fear. And my sweat pours over me in cold wash of anxiety. I keep feeling along and finally notice a breath of air different than before. It is not the goat's any more. It is soft and I yearn toward it and realize the music has faded a bit. And I make one last fateful dash to find myself back under the stars. Weak and sunken, I fall to the ground and reach for soft grass and tender dirt. I realize I have met the devil and he is so much longing and gratification. But I am unfulfilled and filthy after being in his presence and desiring after him. He has left me cold and unfulfilled after that one euphoric moment of satisfaction. I try to remember if I was allowed to touch him because somehow I feel his rough hairs and his burning skin. He was hot to the touch. He was fiery and he has burned these fingers. I look to see the blisters forming on my fingers and palms and blood seeping thru where the blisters have burst. I feel tears form in my eyes and I shake my head in sorrow at my rash decisions. Somehow I have danced with the devil and he has left these marks.


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These images may not be the devil to everyone. As I have thought back to those fateful moments in the cave, I realize the devil I must fight everyday. I am enlightened to the things that hold me in bondage. This drink, these fanatical religious pasts, and these inward urges that turn me on my own self. These quick impulses, these in the moment decisions that bind me in ways I later regret. I encourage you to label your own devils, the things that keep you stuck and unaware of your own internal guidance. For me, these are mine.

The Nine of Wands

I am here, and then I am there, almost transported against my will. The sun beats desperately against my instantly sweating brow. I raise my hands to shield my eyes from this harsh heat. And in the scintillating waves of heat I realize there is someone standing not far from me. There was no trying to find this man. He stands before me now and eyes me warily. I feel uncomfortable in his harsh and defensive gaze and I drop my hand and my eyes with them. "I'm sorry," I say quietly, "can I help you?" And he shakes his head barely altering his stance. He seems suspicious of me. And then I truly notice him. He stands tall in clothes that he must have been fighting in. There are smudges of dirt and the edges lay in tatters and he is holding tightly to a staff. I look at him more fully and see his head is coarsely bandaged with a filthy torn rag and his hair is sweaty and matted with blood and dirt. Blood seeps out from under the bandage to run slowly along his rough and unkempt face.


His eyes shift towards me sharply. "What are staring at?", he growls as his eyes seem to narrow in defiance and distrust. And I startle to realize I have been staring at him. "you're, you're hurt" I stutter and I fumble as I try to reach out to help him but he gestures angrily, lowering the stick he holds slightly toward me. I react taking a step back. "But you're bleeding" I try one more time, more sure of myself. But he grunts at me and seems to end this conversation. I realize he will not speak to me again.


I glance to the side of him and suddenly notice that the stick he carries is multiplied eight times behind him. He must have placed them as a guard about himself before I arrived. And most assuredly, the do form a bit of a fence or boundary behind him. And I realize that once they were sticks, but somehow these eight staffs seem to broaden and grow under my careful watch. They expand and sprout the tiniest of spring green leaves. Roughly they form, and I am fascinated as I continue to watch and realize that these sticks he chose to place behind him are now supporting him in his determination. With each wave of strength and resolution I feel emanating from this broken soldier, I watch the branches sprout farther and the leaves darken. He seems magical without even knowing. He has created this strength and this resilience. He has created his own defense against the enemy and I lean into those subtle energies. I feel my own soul being honored in that flow.


And I realize he no longer looks in my direction and I glance at my own hands somehow grown sticky and notice they are bloody even tho I never touched his wound. I brush them on my pants suddenly noticing my ragged and dirty cloak. Suddenly my hands and feet seem to fade away and I notice the green coarse grass waving under them. And then my whole being seems to fade and I realize I am spirit and I can still see this place, but no longer can this worn but triumphant soldier see me. And then I start to realize that I am seeing from where he once stood. I hear distant sounds. And I feel this same resolve and strength I had seen earlier. I am standing strong and holding onto a staff of my own. The sounds again pierce my consciousness...metal on metal and indistinct yelling.


Am I now that soldier himself? I have only done as I needed. This is not a path of struggle chosen - rather I feel myself rising to the form and calling. There is no other path. I must only do what needs to be done. But somehow I have gained acclaim in only doing as must needs be done. I have been thru so much and I have endured past the point had ever imagined I would. My body is beaten and bloody and in some ways unrecognizable from before, but I am stronger than I ever imagined being and I clutch more firmly even now to this staff in my hand. It has changed as well. I feel the rough bark under my raw fingers. I realize my blood has stained this wood and created a staff of remembrance. Somehow my spirit knows that this will not always be like this. I have this knowing that when night falls, I will be released of this firm stand. Beautiful night with the moon shimmering over coolness and stillness. I have persevered so long and I choose to be proven worthy. At this moment I stand alone as the hermit of old. I wonder at that. Did I choose this path? Or was it chosen for me?


And I realize this is my life with a special needs child. I am this soldier in the battle and I have struck out to form my own shelter and my own world of safety for him. I have done only what was necessary and I have come to each battle and fought my hardest. I have only done what I had to in the moment to survive and protect what I hold so dear. I have held firm to that which I so ardently believe.These things have changed everything. They have changed the scenery. They have changed my trajectory. But most of all, they have changed me, irrevocably. I am injured but I am strong. I am dirty and full of memories of trauma and fighting but I am overcome. I am a victor.


And again I glance at these tree beings behind me that have become solid and unwavering. The have continued to grow as I have been standing here numb in the face of so much revelation. They are now forming a luscious green canopy above me. I relish the cool shade and feel myself lift into the arcing and graceful branches. I feel myself comforted and slipping away in the knowledge that this soldier will endure to the end and the victory that he alone can see. I have become him after all.

The Empress

The middle of the the afternoon. Summer draws its lazy hand across a deep blue sky and eddies of heat and shimmer blur my vision of distance. Insects buzz around me and soft breezes catch at my loose hair and I feel languid and drowsy. I am under this wide open sky not too far from a tree line. It is a field and it is full of wheat and dusty fragrance. This is late summer, the time of harvest and plenty. I feel this deep satisfaction and I fill my senses with the warmth and the harmony and the scents of this time of abundance.

Finally I gain the strength past my drowsiness to look up and see at the beginning of the trees and bathed in this aura of warm mid afternoon sun, a goddess of sorts. She is surrounded by cotton pillows and blankets and softly swirling netting. An aura of pink light seems to infuse her area. She is gentle and smiling at me and I push myself to rise and quietly walk on bare feet in her direction. Things change around me a bit and I feel the cool comfort of so many trees behind her and smell this piney scent and notice a babbling brook. The sounds of little birds flitting and cooing to each other fills my ears. It is a heavy but not uncomfortable blanket of comfort that covers my entire being and I am walking so slowly and picking my way thru the field of wheat to this beautiful lady. I notice that my clothes are tattered. I am wearing a dress of some sort in dark colors and shredded fabric. My feet are bare and dirty and I am unkempt and unready to meet someone so sensuous and beautiful as this Empress

She smiles brighter and a little more as I keep coming closer and I feel encouraged even tho I am aware that I do not shine as she does. She radiates the sun above in this warm comfort, but she is not uncomfortable in this heat. Rather she smells of sun-drenched hair and folds of wind dried cloth. her dress billows about her and she resides on soft and ample pillows. She is pregnant and I am sure it is twins. She inclines her head to me as if to indicate I know the truth. And she reaches out her hand and I come closer at once overcome to touch these soft folds that surround her and I feel strangely and deeply aroused. She is so lovely with gently waving hair and a crown on her head of twelve diamonds that reflect like stars.

I wonder at her ability to have so much wisdom and then wonder how I know that. She is divine feminine at the strongest. And I am in awe of this loveliness and this sensing of deep, deep rivers of understanding. She has seen all. She has seen pain and travail and she has seen me. She has noticed this emptiness and void and she has called me across this field. She has heard my supplications and my aching for more meaning and more understanding. In fact she has called me into this soft world when I wasn't here before. She knows that from great pain and travail can come great compassion and the ability to nurture. She has drawn me to heal me. She has called my spirit from another time and place. She is the mother I never had - she is the soft and the strong. She is the friend I always wanted. She is the mentor my heart asked for. She is the strength and the yielding. She is beautiful and soft and yet powerful and defined. She is all in this very moment I stand beside her so deeply aware of her power and presence.

I see her soft cheek and her fair and perfect skin. Rose light shines from her face and her eyes are liquid pools of compassion. She is perfection and she is looking at me as tho I have something to offer and I feel embarrassed by my thin and filthy appearance. I am not worthy of so much glory and strength. And I have brought nothing but myself to this place. But then I glance again at my thin frame and notice my dress has lengthened and it is this gossamer flowing linen. I am no longer dirty and my body is shining. The edges of my skirts soak in the flowing water beside us and I feel this gentle tug from the fabric. I look again at the empress and she seems to be sending this light into me as she hands me a pomegranate to nourish my depleted body. I eat and the stains of the fruit spatter onto that soft white fabric of my dress but it is not as it shouldn't be. It seems as if these stains grow and emanate outward and become this living life force. They radiate and now the dress glows in this rose quartz color. I am stunning in her glow and her life force. She radiates so much life and abundance that I am swallowed up into her aura and now I am as she is but with darker hair and lush brown eyes. She is full and I am fuller still. I am as a gem and I know I will never be as I was. I am full of her life and her ability to create. I am full of her love and her compassion.

She never saw me as I was but only as I was to become. I have become and I am never. I was and I am. I feel this life swirling from the beginnings of my toes and up through my legs and into my navel and chest and as it flows thru my being, my head becomes this crown of many colored stars. And I radiate. I am in awe and I don't step away from this scene but rather I am suddenly in this moment as I was then. My organs pulse and my body radiates and I feel sensual and drawn to pleasure myself and continue this drawing and filling of life and force and spiraling and energy that I felt so deeply in her presence. She has given me far more than anything she held. She has given me a piece of her spirit and her love. I will create as she. I will draw in the light and diffuse it. I am gentleness and soul. I am compassion and nurturing. I hold all and I am soft and strong as she. She has turned my mourning into mirth and my grief into enlightenment. The dark things have become my light and I am aware of those I can nurture and love others just as she has me. What she has given is now mine to impart.