It seems I failed to notice the word count restrictions for Sue Vincent’s photo challenge, so I’ve whittled down the The Stairway, unabbreviated to 92 words. Definitely a bit more challenging.
Photo by Sue Vincent
The Green Man called beyond the door, “Come child, we are waiting.”
Nora was no child. She was old enough to be a grandmother twice over. Ah, but the words sparked deep inside of her and she felt young again. The last time she walked down those stairs was sixty years ago, but Nora would never forget what was beyond the archway. She pulled her hooded cloak from the knob and sunk her feet into heavy boots.
“I’d marry him again,” she muttered, sounding addled to the man in the living room.
Well I’ve never done a blog writing challenge, but this photo had a haunting quality I couldn’t resist. Besides, the past photo prompt responses that Sue Vincent has posted in the past have been utterly delightful. So, why not. Here is the story that came to me from this photo that she provided, called “The Stairway.”
Photo from Sue Vincent
The Green Man called to her beyond the door, “Come child, we are waiting.”
Nora was no child. She was eighty years old, old enough to be a grandmother twice over. Ah, but the words sparked a joy deep inside of her and suddenly she felt young again. The last time she had walked through that door was sixty years ago, but Nora would never forget what was beyond the archway.
Slippers were useless in the snow, but she would keep the dress, yes, she would keep the dress. Nora pulled her hooded cloak down from the knob beside the door and sunk her feet into her heavy boots.
“I’d marry him again,” she muttered, sounding addled to the man in the living room sitting in the rocking chair.
“Nora, you best come and rest your bones beside the fire with me,” he called out, but Nora was already gone.
Hours passed, and the old man beside the fire dozed and woke to the hunger in his belly. He sniffed the air and frowned. “Nora, is dinner ready?”
Silence filled the darkened room, and the man began to worry. He stepped into the front room and saw the kitchen empty. No lights had been turned on. The front door was slightly ajar, and an icy air blew through the crack and sent a shiver up the man’s spine.
“Nora, you out there?” he called through the twilight. A pair of feet had left their trail through the day’s snowfall, and the old man followed their path with his eyes, down the granite steps where they ended in a pool of violet light.
“She always said they would come back for her,” the old man shook his head and closed the door.
How could I not write about the fox after reading Sue Vincent’s post last night, “Foxed.” Her words held the promise of magic I could not resist. Of course there was also the obvious tug from Spirit, who has shown me the fox in 3 different forms over the last 24 hrs.
Yesterday, after playing in the woods behind our home with a friend and our rather fox-like dog, Rosy, my daughter came in proclaiming she had found the remains of a fox half-exposed by the slowly melting snow. She had the pictures to prove it.
The remains of a fox?
Later, I followed her outside, the entire family in tow as we studied the evidence. The small, strong jaw seemed about right to our untrained eyes, as well as the unmistakable red-orange fur found nearby. The cause of death, unknown, but we all made guesses. My children were willingly to bet it was a coyote (a common predator of the fox), my husband, in an attempt to temper any fears, suggested it may have died of old age.
We had a mystery on our hands that got me thinking not so much about how the remains of a fox ended up in our backyard, but about what the fox as a messenger really means. In his book Animal Speak, Ted Andrews observes that there are 21 species of fox. 21, as he notes, is the last card in the journey of Tarot. It is often referred to as “The World” card, a card of creation and all possibilities, which makes me think of the color orange that the fox wears both as camouflage and as a symbol of gifts held inside the second chakra.
The fox reminds us to go inside to that place where we create our life’s passions. It is an animal of mystery, rarely seen in the daylight hours, preferring the in-between times that are associated with magic and the fairy realms, when the veil between our worlds is thin. It awakens our passions and our extrasensory perceptions. The fox is a silent predator, able to move quickly with a stealth that is often unnoticed. It hears, sees and smells what most do not.
For those of us hoping to birth new creative energies, the fox can be our guide, helping us grow the magic safely tucked inside our “wombs.” It can guide us into other realms and help us see, hear and smell the more subtle, yet powerful energies around us as we discern with whom and in what to place our trust. When we are ready for “magic,” fox may appear to guide us.
Have you ever really wondered who you are and why you are here in this body at this time in evolution? Deep inside the memory of your cells, and within the door of your heart, your answers to who you are can be found, but how do you get there? How do you unlock lifetimes of memories and wisdom? How can you find your Truth?
One night last week I entered the realm of dreams while visions of ancient Egypt played with the gods inside the garden of my mind. There was Horus with his maddening blue eye, Isis mixing magic, Ma’at with her feather of Truth, and Sekhmet, the warrior goddess holding the ankh and her secrets to heal.
I had recently finished reading Sue Vincent’s The Osiriad, and had just begun Denise Linn’s Past Lives, Present Miracles. In a shadowed corner inside my mind, amid the play of gods, I searched for myself and saw a woman bent towards the ground, drawing a story in pictures. Stand up, I begged her, Show me who you are. Tell me your secrets.
The last image I can recall before I succumbed to sleep, was of an ancient oak tree. I was traveling down its trunk into the heart of Earth. I can’t tell you were I went, only that I met a parrotfish. One stubborn image that stayed inside my brain after waking.
There was a part of me that found it rather funny and, well, random that I had dreamt of a parrotfish. It seemed completely nonsensical and unrelated to my night musings. I had, after all, never before given the parrotfish much thought. I only vaguely knew what it was.
I’m not much of a believer in random signs, especially a sign that stuck so stubbornly inside my mind. It was, it seemed, a messenger from Spirit. I just needed to figure out what it was trying to tell me. I opened the computer and did some research while Sue Vincent quietly nudged me along across the ocean.
I silently thanked the divine for my friend who doesn’t appear to think I’m crazy, and happens to possess a wealth of esoteric knowledge, as I decided to explore the messages of my colorful messenger. While Sue wrote about polarity and the “surrender of self,” I thought about a fish that has the ability to change gender, color, and size.
The parrotfish is, you could say, a shapeshifter, having the ability to adapt and transform to its changing environment. It is, in essence, neither wholly male nor female, but able to harness the universal yin/yang energies we all have within us, at will. The parrotfish also wears the colors of the rainbow, the pattern and hues displayed subject to change throughout its lifetime. It is a chameleon of the sea.
The parrotfish, although residing in the warm waters of the tropics, is also connected to the element of air and land. Named after the parrot for its colorful scales that resemble the tropical bird, the parrotfish also sports a mouthful of impressive teeth that are shaped like a beak, as well as a second set inside its throat.
The more I read about this remarkable fish, the more my head swirled with symbolism. Here I was trying to evoke the memories of a distant past life I had led in ancient Egypt as a woman scribe, and it seems Spirit had scent me the parrotfish. It was a lot to digest.
Later in the morning, a dam inside of me broke and the waters of my emotions spilled from my eyes. I sat in my blue living room and looked up on my wall, noticing for the first time that the Chinese checkerboard my late grandfather had carved into wood was actually two interlocking triangles. The hexagram is a magical symbol that Sue explores in-depth with her coauthor Dr. G. Michael Vasey in their book The Mystical Hexagram. As I gazed upon this beautiful representation of united polarity, this union of opposites, I felt peace settle over me. I knew in that middle space I would find my truth. Or, to put it another way, the truth was already there, unfolding like the roses etched into the corners of the square.
My Grandfather’s Chinese Checker Board
If you happen to encounter the parrotfish as a messenger, consider asking yourself these questions: Is there something you are hiding within that seeks to be found? Are the energies within you in need of balance, or are you being called to express more of your inner yin or yang? Are you comfortable speaking (and digesting) your truth, or is a fear holding you back? Are you expressing your true, colorful self and your innate talents? Is there an alchemist inside of you waiting to be born?
The parrotfish calls us to balance the energies within us. To connect the elements of air and water and bring forth our creative gifts into this reality. It calls us to fully and fearlessly express our true selves. This beautiful being reminds us that we are more than what we appear to be on the surface, and that our true mysteries lie within, waiting to be expressed.
I fell asleep to water. Outside the walls of my home, a storm of thunder and lightning raged its energy, working to cleanse the atmosphere of the heavy humidity from the day. On the shelf beside my bed was the just closed book by Sue Vincent and Dr. G. Michael Vasey, The Mystical Hexagram. My left hand rested on the arm of my husband, as I silently sent energies to lift the heavy weight of water I felt within him, knowing as I did, that what one sees or feels in others, one also has within.
There is a reason that water is both heavy and healing. It is the element that both stores our emotions and releases them when we are ready. Have you ever noticed how some people appear heavier than others, not just physically, but emotionally. That idea of “carrying the weight of the world,” on one’s shoulders, or at least the weight of the past. An imbalance, or (dis)ease, within the body is usually the result of stored emotions.
We are made mostly of water, that element of emotions. So is the earth. Just like us, Earth needs to cleanse and release when density builds. Sometimes, like last night, she cries fierce tears. It behooves us to do the same. Sometimes we need to weep, or have a “good fit,” of release, in order to heal and rid our bodies of our stored emotions. When we do, we feel better, we feel lighter. After Earth weeps, the air we breathe is less dense.
In my dreams, I was standing inside my house with my husband, watching lines of water pour through the roof. A discouraging dream, you might say, but it became one of empowerment. There was the tiger who leapt from the shelf, filling the room with the energy of creation and power. Out of the emotional element of water, we can create. Sometimes this takes a spark of fire – the element that overlaps the triangle of water to create the “mystical hexagram” that Sue and Dr. Vasey have written a book about.
In Tarot, the element of water is often portrayed with the chalice – a symbol of feminine wisdom and creation. The Queen of Cups in the Rider deck is one of my favorite cards, it shows us that anything is possible when we go within and create from those sacred waters of the soul.
Rider Queen of Cups
To do this, we need to release, to bring forth those energies stored within the water of our emotions, and us them to create our individual gifts, such are writing, art, music, etc. This is where life emerges out of stagnation. Consider a vernal pool holding winter’s melt. The life that is birthed within those still waters does not stay for long. Compare this to a lake continually fed by the moving waters of a mountain river. Here, oxygenated life flourishes and cycles repeatedly through the phases of birth, death and rebirth.
Close your eyes and imagine standing near, or in, a stagnant pool of water, then a lake, a river, a waterfall and the ocean. The energy of water changes profoundly. What is the water in your body like?
When I woke at 2:40am, I needed to pee. Quite literally I had the urge to relieve myself of the water held inside my bladder. You could also say that I was clearing the water of that leaking house in my dream. Although I have done a lot of healing of myself, with the help of some wonderful healers, I am not wholly free of the clutches of water. Sometimes it builds and calls for release.
We not only carry the water of our own emotions, we literally carry the water of the World’s. Our bodies are made from Earth’s elements, we require these shared energies to sustain our existence, recycling our waste to be reused in another form, in another body that shares our home. Water cycles through bodies, it travels through the ground and is expired into the air as vapor. The element collects into clouds and comes back down with gravity. Water remembers where its been, it can only exist when it joins with other water molecules.
In this way, water carries both weight and wisdom. When we learn how to work with the emotional element of water, we become gifted creators and healers. We rediscover, or release, hidden truths and wisdom. Water can carry us to the fiercest places within, and it can also cleanse us of our sorrows and fears, especially when we add a little light.
The Light Behind the Story 