Category: Reflections

The Roots of the Circle

On By Alethea KehasIn Memoir, Reflections, Uncategorized2 Comments

My mind is still ruminating on the circle. Last night I dreamt of water surrounding me on all sides, getting ever closer to my body. I fled before I could be stranded, not wanting to become an island, cut off, with a relentless tide washing over me.

Later, in my dreams, I found myself in a classroom as a student with my husband. The teacher was giving us assignments, and my husband and I were to write an essay about the root chakra. He told me he wanted to write about a place he calls “Blueberry Mountain,” and I found myself wondering how this related to the first chakra, where we hold our sense of stability and our fears of instability. Yet I relented, agreeing to partner with him on our shared task. While we were writing, there were interruptions. A girl I’ll call Margot, because that’s the name I gave her in my memoir, who was also in the class with us, teased and taunted, trying to disrupt the flow of our work. Trying to cut us off from our collaboration.

When I return to the circle, I think about the space in the center that is shared by all who form the perimeter. I think of the energy mingled into one collective body that is the source of all life. And, I think of an invisible network of roots feeding and nursing life.

A tree, upended, will eventually starve and wither away.

Why did my dream mind lead me to the classroom with my husband and Margot, I wondered when I woke, until I began to think about the upending of my own roots.

I met my husband when I was seventeen. In the years preceding our relationship, I had experienced multiple compromises to my family and social networks. My structure of tribal unity, held within my root chakra, was severely compromised by the time I met my future husband. It had left me feeling compromised, fearful and distrustful. Then, one day, I sat in the library of St. Paul’s School in Concord, NH, and found myself falling in love with a boy from Manchester who was writing an essay about a place he called “Blueberry Mountain.” Maybe you can go there with me someday, he told me.

The individual who finds him or herself cut off from the circle, whether willingly or unwillingly, can always return to a place of unity.

Just over 26 years ago, while siting in the library with a boy I barely knew, I began to reclaim and regrow my network of roots. I began to realize that I was not, in fact, an island of one struggling to survive amid stormy seas. I began to trust in love again.

In the center of the circle, which is also the self, there is Love.

For the past month I have been feeling naked and vulnerable. The birth of my memoir, A Girl Named Truth, has called into question my very stability. When I find myself succumbing to old patterns of thought, fear slips in and threatens to topple my roots. I temporality forget that I am not an island, even though I feel, in many ways, raw and alone. This, though, is a temporary feeling, a cruel game of the ego’s mind. When I settle my thoughts into peace, I feel the presence of all life. I feel the Light at the core, and I remember that I am never alone. That at any moment I can rejoin the circle of invisible hands and feel whole again.

Beneath the veil of fear, the body is always searching for the breath of love. When the veil is removed, nothing else exists. Without fear, the roots reach and mingle into unity and the body bends toward light.

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A Medicine Wheel in the forest near Mt. Kearsarge Indian Museum with legumes in the center bending and growing toward filtered light.

A Circle of Hands #unity-consciousness #empathy

On By Alethea KehasIn A New Earth, Gaia & Elementals, Reflections7 Comments

I have been thinking about harmony and unity. About how, over the course of hundreds, if not thousands of years, we have moved away from the circle to form the line.

I have been thinking about the quest of the individual striving for purpose by trying to get to the head of the line, not realizing the line is an illusion.

I have been thinking about how we are birthed into human form to explore this illusion, but not to hold onto it. For there is nothing to hold onto. No hands to join your palms.

Last Friday, in my continued quest to learn the mysteries of the land near where I live, I visited the Mt. Kearsarge Indian Museum with a friend of mine. The museum, founded by Bud and Nancy Thompson, several years after Nancy taught my third grade class at Canterbury Elementary School, is deliberately arranged in the form of a circle. When you walk the rooms of artifacts recovered across the United States, your eyes pick up patterns. Themes are shared throughout the native cultures that join the people in sacred truth. The circle is one of them.

There is, by its inherent nature, no beginning or end to the circle. The line, when drawn in this form curves back to itself, and in doing so becomes part of a greater whole that never ends. Here separation is impossible. If there is a break in the circle, it ceases to be whole.

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A Continuous Circle of Hands

In my quest to find sacred sites in New England, I have been searching for circles of stone, but on Friday I found circles in other forms. Bodies, male and female, joined into circles of hands on baskets, pottery and clothing. The symbol of unity stretches across our globe.

In our more modern quest for dominance over each other, we have forgotten what it feels like to hold each others’ hands. We have forgotten that we are birthed into individuality only to discover we cannot truly make it alone. When you gaze at a circle of hands like the one show in the image above, it becomes almost an absurd hope to strive for separation.

Imagine the energy of holding an endless circle of hands. Fear has no hope here. Loneliness does not exist. The pain of the individual dissolves into the embrace of the whole. Imagine the love.

A long ago time, this was simply Life. The Circle of Live. There is a reason thousands of years ago humankind formed circles with stones to worship Life. There is a reason why bodies of hands continuously joined, and voices sang in a circle of harmony around fires.

If you doubt the power of the circle, close your eyes with me and imagine a hug of one thousand hands.

The land still remembers its hold. Can we?

Ancient Stone Circle in Scotland
A Circle of Hands in Stone, Scotland. Photo Credit: Sue Vincent

Why love?

On By Alethea KehasIn A New Earth, Meditations, Reflections, Uncategorized1 Comment

It was one of those moments. Perfect for a storm you might say. We all know what they are like, the energy around you and within you becomes electrified and seemingly fueled by a power that is not entirely your own. It could have been me, or anyone else for that matter, but last night it was my husband who lost his temper, his voice raising in response to my son’s actions. I sat in the the eye of the storm, observing what was going on around me and within me. I felt the shake of my cells as they churned memories from childhood when I was in the position of my son. And I felt fear strip bare the child-self as I breathed into my own reaction. A voice raised in frustration and anger toward a child, I reminded by husband, and our children who were our audience, is never an effective means to an end. Or, for that matter, I thought later while sitting in meditation, is it a solution for any situation.

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An image of our president came into my mind, followed by a myriad of ways aggression is used to try and rule and over-power. It is never effective. Aggression, which is always fueled by fear, takes a lot of negative energy, which always must be replenished by more negative energy. It breeds the fear it is fueled by, and it always offsets harmony.

We all have the extremes of polarity inside of us, but we can each choose to react and carry out our lives with either fear or love. Why choose love?

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Because ultimately, it is the only path. It leads to harmony, both within and without, and also freedom. It leads to joy and unity, and it is an effortless, limitless source of energy that never diminishes. We may think love is weak, but there is nothing stronger.

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While sitting in meditation, I suddenly felt my third eye expand into the infinite of the golden light that can be called love. It spread down into my heart center, where it expanded into a pure love consciousness. In this open heart space of consciousness where only love exists, I began to see the world through the eyes of love. The seemingly impossible becomes possible when we exist in this state, even for a short time. There is no longer an other, which one may perceive as an enemy through the eyes of fear, there is only the one. Each being becomes an aspect of your own self, and all exist in the powerful, yet grace-filled state of love.

 

Here forgiveness is not only possible, it is effortless. One looks at another, and sees a mirror of the self, which is no longer hidden. Instead of reacting out of anger or unfiltered fear, one can only be love. The expansion, the giving and receiving of love, is so effortless, it is like the fluid harmony of water in a vast, ever-expanding sea. Anything and everything appears possible, because it is possible. Even the once perceived enemy becomes a friend, because all barriers are broken down. The other becomes you, and you become them, and the impulse to divide becomes an impulse to unite.

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In this golden state of love consciousness, I felt devoid of hate and fear in all forms. Each aspect of the “other” was brought forth as a mirror, and my own impulse was to send back love. Pure, unfiltered love, even to our president. And in return, I felt peace.

 

 

It could have been worse

On By Alethea KehasIn Memoir, Reflections, Uncategorized9 Comments

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I had been looking forward to this week, in the middle of the summer, since the middle of winter. Not because I was going anywhere, but because my children were. It was to be my one week all to myself, if you don’t count four-leggeds who live with me, but the fates had a different plan.

I spent last week with my daughter when she wasn’t hanging out with friends, or at her twice-a-week soccer bootcamp. We had a few rare moments together, which included an outing to her favorite restaurant where she happily ate eggs bennie with a mug of forbidden coffee.

My son was at basketball camp.

Then, over the weekend, he went to his buddy’s birthday party where eight boys camped out in a tent and maybe got a combined two-hours of sleep.

I should have know by then things might not go according to plan…

After pick-up on Sunday morning, I drove my very tired, but happy, son home where promptly took a shower and went to bed.

Five hours later, the dog barked at the neighbor’s cat and woke him before I could. I didn’t want him to sleep the day, and then not the night.

Monday morning brought a cold rain, and I made breakfasts and packed lunches for my two children as they prepared for their days at camp. I knew my daughter would be fine, she’d had a relatively relaxing week and weekend, and her camp was going to be indoors. Based on the forecast, I was hoping for a good dose of common sense on the part of my son’s counselors, even though he was supposed to be playing baseball.

After dropping off six children (only two of them mine) to their respective camps, I made my way back home.  I had five hours before I needed to get back in the car for pick-up. The majority of which I spent staring at two computers, one containing my manuscript, the other YouTube tutorials on how to format it into a book. After three hours I started to get nauseous from turning my head back and forth from screen to screen, and holding my breath every time I made a change, so I put it aside. I ate lunch, puttered around the house, checked social media, and headed back out into the cold rain to pick up the six kids I had brought to camp.

While I drove, the nagging worry I held in my gut all day started to itch for release. I really hope they kept the kids inside, I kept telling myself, until I pulled into the driveway of the fields and realized there were no kids to be found.

“They’ve got them at the field house,” one parent revealed, “They’re walking down now.” In the pouring rain. My daughter was at the field house across campus, I knew how far a walk it was.

Five minutes later, the groups of boys started appearing. Some of them wore caps, some of them worse sweatshirts. Some of them were simply dripping rain over t-shirts. When I saw my son, he looked unhappy. Miserable might be a more apt word. His blue sweatshirt was hanging with the weight of water off his shoulders, and his red hat was leaking rain down his hair (from the inside). His summer skin was a ghostly white.

By the time I got him in the car, 10-15 minutes later, after the counselors had given out the two “camper of the day” awards, my son was shivering for warmth. I handed him the mug of hot chocolate I had bought on my way to get him, and turned the heater of his seat on. “I can’t get warm,” he kept telling me as he gulped his hot chocolate down. It turns out they had spent the morning outside, in the pouring, cold rain, the afternoon mostly indoors, where they never fully dried out, then walked across campus, in the pouring cold rain, back to the ballfields for pickup. Why they never thought to keep the kids inside, or to at least call the parents for pickup at the field-house at the end of the day, I can’t tell you. But it could have been worse. They could have kept them out all day.

And, my son could have come down with pneumonia or mono, instead of strep. But I didn’t know that until today.

Monday night brought a fever, and after picking at his dinner, my son went to bed. Tuesday morning he slept in, and when he woke his forehead still felt warm. The thermometer read 100.4. I breathed a sigh of relief. It could have been worse.

We spent the day inside, my son sleeping, not eating much, and playing a little on his PS4.  After a shower, it was another early-to-bed for him. When he woke this morning, he ate half a bagel with some juice and told me his stomach was bothering him, but his temperature was down to 99.7. It could have been worse, but I suspected strep.

At 11am the rapid test taken at the doctor’s office confirmed my suspicion, and I breathed a rather large sigh of relief. It could have been much worse.

It hardly mattered, after that, that my son threw up all over the living room floor, his socks and the bottom half of the (new) sofa after I got him home,  because I knew he would be feeling better soon enough, and that it could have been much worse.

He’s now napping upstairs, and I’m waiting for my daughter to be driven home from camp. All four bathrooms have been cleaned. Another load of laundry has been washed and hung outside to dry in the sun that decided to break apart two days of clouds, and I am feeling grateful because it could have been worse. Much worse. And, maybe by Friday, my son will be well enough to sneak out to our favorite restaurant for some french toast before his sister gets home from camp.

 

Finding Magic in the Land: Mt. Cardigan

On By Alethea KehasIn Animal Messengers, Gaia & Elementals, Reflections, Uncategorized11 Comments

At the ancient stone circles in the United Kingdom, the shape of the stones often mirrors the surrounding land. It’s both awe-inspiring and eerie. The magic held inside the sacred structures, which extend far, far beyond the more widely visited circles, is quite something to behold. I have written of this before in posts that speak of the magic, and also of the deep longing and sense of home I feel in these sacred places. Living in New Hampshire, where the land, itself, is no less ancient, but the magic has always felt more illusive and gentle, at best, I have recently made a vow with myself to find it. It seems necessary, vital almost.

A couple of weeks ago, I hiked Mt. Cardigan with a friend of mine. Being a long distance runner, who regularly runs 50 miles through mountainous terrain for pleasure, she does not adhere to a leisurely walking pace. Not that walking up a mountain is all that leisurely, but you can understand that it would not be particularly easy to pause and look. To really take in the surroundings, and the feel of land. Not that I had told her I wanted to. We were here to hike, and so we did. Besides, it was a beautiful day and the mountain trail was filled with people.

I would have to wait until we reached the summit to stop and take note. Although it was a beautiful, partly sunny day, it was very windy on the top of the mountain, whose granite peak is exposed to the element in a way that leads one feeling uncomfortable and a bit raw. Like you could blow over the edge if you didn’t watch your step. There is also nowhere to really sit, comfortably. But we made do, finding a fairly sheltered cove where we could eat our sandwiches and chat while our behinds gradually went numb against the granite ledge.

I noticed the tiny bird from the corner of my eye almost immediately. It looked like a junco, with its white breast and gray-black over-coat, but I could not be sure. It stayed just far enough away so that it could be sure I was aware. Looking over at us often. It was the only bird, as far as I could tell, on the mountaintop, and its attention was clearly focused our way.

Because I do not see this particular friend often, and we always have a lot of catching up to do, I tried to devote my focus primarily on her, and our conversation, but the bird kept its watch, and I noted its presence from the corner of my eye. When we rose to prepare our descent, I took a photograph of our winged friend, and noted only later, what the image exposed.

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Our winged friend looks out from the edge of the heart-shaped stone

A few more photographs were snapped as I tried to get a panoramic copy of the landscape around the mountain without, once again, really knowing what the images might later reveal.

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The heart-stone (to the left) mirrors a heart-lake in the land below (to the right)

The truth is, it took me a couple of flips through the uploaded photographs later, to realize I had captured an image of the heart-stone with a heart-shaped lake in the distance. They are almost mirror images. The bird, it seemed from the earlier photograph, had been pointing the way. If you read any of the posts by the directors of the Silent Eye School of Consciousness, this phenomenon of birds at sacred sites in the United Kingdom is not uncommon.

On the way down from Mt. Cardigan, my eye caught upon a large round boulder. “I need to take a picture,” I told my friend so she would pause.  I was pretty sure I had found the guardian of the mountain. A guardian, apparently, with a sense of humor.

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The guardian? 

Although I did not get a chance to do a thorough search of the mountaintop, this boulder appeared noticeably to stand alone amid the curved, flat surface of the peak. Upon closer study of the non-cropped photograph, I noticed it had some surrounding friends.

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The Guardian and Friends

They’re a little more challenging to see here, but one can make out faces in the raised stones, particularly the two in the foreground.

And, so it seems, I had found a bit of magic during my hike on Mt. Cardigan. To be continued, I hope…

The Eagle’s Return

On By Alethea KehasIn Animal Messengers, Reflections, Uncategorized3 Comments

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The eagle has returned, although I imagine it has never left. Once again it makes its presence known at a time when I feel the calling to find the power within. An ambiguous unease has been setting in, and there is no clearly definable reason why. I have come to accept this feeling as the soul preparing me to shift into the unknown. This takes courage and surrendering, and more than an ounce of trust. It takes a complete giving  into the unraveling and the revealing of what is waiting to emerge behind the familiar. The unknowing is what unsettles. The mind likes to prepare and to plan. It likes to play the part of control, but the heart is telling me to let go.

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So eagle has appeared again. I see its white head with golden eyes penetrating the walls of reluctance. There is no yielding to its stare. It is stern, yet it is not unkind. I feel love and strength in its presence; an unwavering devotion to its cause, which is to guide the unfolding.

It is a silent and still witness. The language of the soul reads no words. The test is in the knowing, the feeling, and the ultimate translation by a mind that becomes the willing servant to the soul’s awakening.

Living with Spirit

On By Alethea KehasIn Energy Healing, Gaia & Elementals, Memoir, Reflections, Uncategorized2 Comments

I wasn’t a child who saw ghosts, or maybe I was, but I don’t remember ever seeing a specter. I talked to fairies, but I don’t remember them talking back. I looked for winged beings in pools of sunlight, and peered in search of their forms under tiny white flowers, but I don’t remember seeing them. I didn’t go to church, and knew very little about religion. Despite growing up in an atheist household, I held within me an innate knowing that Life was not a mere compilation of flesh and bones.

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Still, if you had known me before the age of around 25, you would likely be surprised with the turn my life has taken. Or, maybe you wouldn’t be. I went from adopting my childhood teachings that anyone who claimed to talk to spirits, or see them, was a fraud, to thinking in my early adult years that so-called psychics, mediums and those who can be grouped into the woo-woo category, are just that, a bit woo-woo. Despite this, for the last decade or so, I have been traveling, quite willingly down the path of Living with Spirit.

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I now believe, with every fiber of my being, that Living with Spirit is the very essence of Life itself. We all do it, whether we are aware of it or not.

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Sprit is our essence. It moves through all Life. The blade of grass is sustained with the same Life Force Energy that courses through you and me. The only difference may be that the blade of grass, or the butterfly that lands upon it, accepts this as Truth, whereas you and I may doubt the very essence of our existence.

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So what does Living with Spirit mean? It is, in essence, just that: the state of being open to the awareness of the energy that moves through you, and is constantly trying to communicate with you. You may call it the Divine, God, Soul, your Higher Self, etc. It is all of the Whole that is the Source of all Life. It can be expressed outwardly in a myriad of forms. It can take on many aspects, as life does here on Earth. These aspects have been given names such as Spirit Guides, Angels, Archangels, Animal Guides, and Light-beings. Just as Source is called God, Allah, Krishna, Shiva, etc. We open ourselves to Spirit in the way that works best for us. Some of us hear, see, or feel Sprit, while some of us just know of its ever-constant presence.

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Although I do not believe we are all here to be mediums, healers or physics, I believe these gifts are within all of us, in the myriad forms they can take. A gifted painter channels spirit through her mind and body, just as the writer does, and the healer. As does the olympian and the mathematician. The more we get out of the way, and allow our hearts to receive and send, the closer we are open to Source, and the wisdom it encompasses.

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I believe that we are all more alike than we are different. That we are all a part of the energy of Source, and that our journeys ultimately lead us back to this Source. I believe that it can take many lifetimes, and although we all come from and are a part of the same Source, we are not all here to walk the same path to get back Home. To live the individual journey with Spirit, though, is Life at its very essence.

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Alethea channels spirit through writing and healing. To learn more about Alethea and Inner Truth Healing, please visit: https://aletheakehas.com

Divine Alchemy

On By Alethea KehasIn A New Earth, Animal Messengers, Energy Healing, Gaia & Elementals, Reflections, UncategorizedLeave a comment

 

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I rediscovered this stream-of-consciouness, or channeling, if you will, today while going through some files. I wrote it nearly a year ago, a month after my first trip to England where I first ventured into Albion’s ancient sites. I remember the day vividly. I was walking my dogs around the town pond, and started hearing the wisdom of the bee. It’s a long channeling. I cut some of it out, but I thought it might be worth sharing what I have below. Here is the channeling from my unseen guide, which is of course, subject to my own translation, and there are areas where my personal thoughts were added. At is essence, it’s a calling for awareness of the individual self, and of the state of the planet, in particular water, an essential key of life as we know it:

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Life is possible through the alchemy of the sun and water. The divine alchemy. Water, the downward facing triangle, and the ancient symbol of the divine feminine energy, when combined with the upward facing triangle, the male life force energy, or the sun, creates life. The alchemy of their combined energies form a hexagon, a divine shape found throughout Nature (bee hives, water, crystals…) and the Universe. Within this shape, one can access, or find, the seat of the soul.

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The ankh, an ancient symbol of Life, is also representation of this concept. The head of the ankh evokes the shape of the raindrop, or drop of water, the body of the ankh is the alchemical reaction that is created through the action of the sun and the water. In this respect, it is the Key of Life.

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The ankh is also a representation of the human body when lying supine toward the sun. The head, in this case, is the human head, filled with consciousness waiting to be ignited. The cross of the ankh is positioned at the heart center of the human body, or the seat of the soul. When a person is lying supine on the Earth, in the shape of an ankh, that person is in a position of surrendering to this divine life force energy, allowing any and all possibilities for alchemy to occur. It can be a simple, yet powerful act of awakening to Truth. In this, also, the ankh is the Key of Truth.

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The Egyptian goddess Isis, with her rainbow wings, is [an aspect of] the divine feminine, or the magical energy of water. She represents the sacred water in all of us, opening us up to the Key to Life. Combined with, or ignited by the divine masculine energy of the sun, represented by the god Horus in Egyptian mythology, a rainbow is created. Without sun and water, there is no rainbow. The rainbow contains the full spectrum of energies that exist in the universe, allowing us to see (some of them) with our physical eyes. The rainbow is the spectrum of life force energies. The crystalline structure of DNA is encoded with the energies of the rainbow waiting to become its full potential.

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We are being asked, now, to remember the alchemy of water and sun, in particular water, [I believe], because we are made up primarily of water, as is Earth, yet both are vastly polluted through our thought forms and actions. Water is the element of emotion and memory. It changes form, but it never forgets. It is transparent when pure. It forms the sacred symbol of a perfect hexagon when it is undefiled, and when it is loved with gratitude. Water, quite simply, is life, and without water and the sun, Life as we know it, would not exist.

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I believe this Truth is encoded in the ancient sites of the world. In the temples of Egypt and in the sacred stone circles of England, and throughout the world. Stonehenge  was a tribute to the Sun, but also the Moon, which is the orb that moves the water within Earth, and ourselves. The ancients knew this, and lived with reverence and love. The age of forgetting was also the age of the cross without the head, a deliberate removal of the head of the ankh, or the divine feminine life-force energy. It was also the beginning of a time when the divine goddesses were pushed aside and humans chose to forget them, or ignore their Truths and power. The waters of Earth, and within our bodies, became stagnant and polluted through these actions and “false” beliefs. Life, we are relearning, is not possible with just the Sun/“Son of God.”

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The bee, who brought much of this to my awareness, is an indicator species that represents this divine alchemy of life. Bees are in danger because of our polluting actions (thoughts), and hence all life on Earth is in jeopardy.  Ancient civilizations were very aware of the importance of the bee on all levels of Life. The bee uses the energy of water and sun to create life. The bee pollinates life through its physical actions, and creates the golden nectar of life, this sacred physical manifestation of the alchemy between sun and water, in the form of honey. Honey is the color of divine light, gold, and holds the healing properties of light/life. It is antibacterial and anti-fungal, it exists in pure form for thousands of years if left untempered with, and it is sweet, bringing us the physical taste of joy. The bee, of course, is also a divine architect, creating hives made from perfect hexagons and showing us how to optimally preserve, store and utilize the life force energy.

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Image curtesy of Pixabay

6 is a sacred number. The hexagon has six sides, and it is a structure of divine perfection. The frequency of the number 6 is a carrier of the life force energy of Love. While walking by the town pond, my guide(s) made this aware to me, as well as that water can be repaired and recharged with the Love frequency of tuning forks. I looked it up online when I got home, and found that this is true. That tuning forks tuned to 528 frequency, repairs DNA and water and is the frequency of Love.  I also (re)learned that healthy DNA (I actually have a degree in biology) is the 6 sided structure of the Hexagon, which is, as mentioned above, the shape of pure, healthy water. I was given a vision of a tuning fork at this frequency being used to heal the water in the pond (and other bodies of water, including, it seems the human, which is what they are often used for in healings).

I had also noted that I had just read Dr. Emoto’s book The Hidden Messages in Water, which was a gifted to me by my husband prior to receiving this “channeling.” The late Dr. Emoto’s work with water offers a great insight into the deeper truths of life.

Defying Conformity

On By Alethea KehasIn A New Earth, Gaia & Elementals, Reflections, UncategorizedLeave a comment

I delight in the yellow

dandelion who lifts

her yellow head

above my neighbor’s lawn

to defy conformity

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Taken on the edge of my neighbor’s perfect chem-lawn

Please stop using chemicals on your lawn. A natural lawn benefits your body, allows for natural diversity, and for bees and other wildlife to thrive. A chemical lawn deadens the Earth and its inhabitants, leaches toxic chemicals into our water supply and therefore compromises the health and wellbeing of all.

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I love my beautifully diverse natural lawn

The Raven Spirit

On By Alethea KehasIn Animal Messengers, Gaia & Elementals, Memoir, Reflections, Uncategorized9 Comments
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Image courtesy of Pixabay.com

Since my visit to the Nest, I have felt haunted. There is a restlessness inside of me; one which my rational mind has tried to reason with. If you were meant to be there, you’d be there. You have work to do here, it tells me. The work often seems illusive as I try to focus past the longing and stay in the moment of present time and space. The tears of frustration, I allow to escape when I am alone. I tell myself I am content to stay in a place that has never felt like home, but it comes with the condition of  purpose. I have learned a lot about myself in these three weeks. For one thing, I quite like the idea of having a clearly defined purpose. A purpose that I can act upon at any moment, unwavering and steadfast. Being idle and directionless does not appeal to me, and so I am in the midst of a great test.

The raven, though, is ever-present. This guide who has come into my life, and who has perhaps been there much longer than I have noticed. When the mind becomes quiet, though, the raven appears. It tells me, Open your eyes. Remember. The land is alive everywhere. The only division is inside of the mind. There is magic everywhere. Find it!

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Image courtesy of Pixabay.com

The curved black beak of the raven opens to eat doubt and fear. Its head turns to look, making sure I see how the flesh is stripped from the bones of the dead until only the core remains. It is ruthless in its devouring. The raven holds no mercy for the weak and wavering. Death, to the raven, is a necessary passage to Life.

Don’t be ridiculous, it tells me. Of course you know why you are here. You’ve always known. 

And so I relent. Allowing its fierce beak to devour the skin of the old self, while my cells stir into rebirth. Death is rarely a pleasant event, but the more one relinquishes the hold on the old, the easier it is to endure.