Recent differences in journeywork
(Was [pagan])
I'm running out of witty titles, lately. Oy.
So let's see, I've had a couple of opportunities to do some "guided" journeywork under the gentle voice of hilarypoet. I put guided in quotes not because there was any flaw to her words, but because I never seem to actually follow them, whether I intend to or not. I'm quite carried away by the sound of her voice, but the content is almost entirely lost to me once I get to my little cradle of Redwoods.
Which is where I begin: I don't seem to have a full on home base any longer. I just have a little circle of Redwood that is obviously the sort of circle a single large redwood makes when burnt out of the center, and then growing up into a small grove of younger trees, with a much older tree to one side of it. That eldest tree is Redwood. The other trees are essentially walls. I begin standing or sitting. Tonight, for the first time, I could actually turn around and see what has been behind me, and I saw that there is a smooth cut place where I may sit or lie down comfortable. I have been cradled there once. This evening I merely began there, seated, and returned there to sit when I was done being out and about.
------------------
Last Sunday I didn't get much past the grove. I wondered to Redwood why I no longer begin from "Home", and then watched, as though projected onto a screen held up between the trunks of the youngest trees, a scene of me walking up to the porch of my old home, and knocking on the door. "Why would I knock on the door of my own home?" Why indeed?
And then I answered the door, from the inside. But it was an older me inside, answering the door for a younger me. And neither is the me I am now. I am not yet the older me inside, and I am no longer the younger me outside. So for now my Home is with Redwood, and He will keep and care for me, I suppose. *sigh*
After that scene I found myself a bear. My maw was brown, but my paws and body were covered with black fur. My whole sense of physical self was contained within that bear. But She was not me. We wondered at sharing a body, but never quite got the hang of it in time to do much more. And I listened to Her litany of resignation: "Not all of my cubs will survive birth. Not all of my cubs will grow up. Not all of my cubs will survive to mate. Not all of my cubs will avoid the hunters. Not all of my cubs will be good. Not all of my cubs will be wise. Not all of my cubs will respect other species. Not all of my cubs will fulfill their potential. I cannot solve all the problems of the world one cub at a time, but I cannot even try to do anything else."
And I wondered at why I was so abruptly visited by this bear when I have never encountered Her before. I discussed it with Turtle (a human) later, and she said that Bear is a great protectress, and She is showing me Her willingness to protect me in my work in service to others. Or something along those lines.
It was clear to me that the proper title for this particular bear, despite Her internal youth, is "Grandmother".
------------------
So this evening, I had no idea what to expect for Seidh. I began, as I said, with Redwood. Leaving the grove, the path seemed much darker, older than it had ever seemed before. The trees were more twisted, and it was in no manner light outside. Someone held a lantern to light my way, and then I realized it was myself doing so. I was not uncomfortable with this passage through ancient woods, but it seemed far more magical and mysterious than the path I have known and loved - and far more potentially dangerous.
But as I came out of that path, I began to recognise just the stirrings - overlap, perhaps - with the paths I knew well. Yet when I got to Yggdrasil, I saw something I had never seen before: He had a face! Yggdrasil has always been an Entity to me. We have... communicated... before. But never through direct speech. Never has there been eye-contact. And yet I was immediately quite comfortable, and went to hug this beloved, trusted friend. We spoke, sort of. I don't remember what was said. And then I realized that the others continued on past me. No worries, Yggdrasil laughed - a very deep, almost earth-rumbling laugh. And then He swallowed me, and I fell down, down, down, until I knew I was in the Well of Wyrd. So when the time came, I did not so much cross the Well as emerge from it. And from there, sitting with the Norns, I soon found myself pulled backwards, and I saw the opening between Them, across the Well, to where the Folk waited. I was inside an earthen room, dark, warm, a bit damp. Very comfortable. Much larger than I needed. And I was quite ready to sleep, but I knew that was certainly not my purpose there.
It took some time to establish a firm connection with the Folk from this place, but I never really left it. From there I could do most anything I have ever been able to do, but without disturbance from unrequested visitors. It was very pleasant.
But I didn't feel entirely as if it was my place at all - nor did I feel entirely as if I was nothing and nobody but myself. But I didn't feel strongly that I was somebody else. More like I was another me. And I do mean another me - the identity most of you call "Ember" in this life.
When I left that place I crossed the well to join the folk, but when the time came I went ahead and descended through the Well to retrace the steps I actually took rather than following the crowd.
I don't know exactly what I connected with tonight. I do know that when I crossed over the well to the folk, a grey cat suddenly followed me, as though She had been in with me, though I hadn't percieved Her at all. It's comforting, anyway.
--Ember--
I'm running out of witty titles, lately. Oy.
So let's see, I've had a couple of opportunities to do some "guided" journeywork under the gentle voice of hilarypoet. I put guided in quotes not because there was any flaw to her words, but because I never seem to actually follow them, whether I intend to or not. I'm quite carried away by the sound of her voice, but the content is almost entirely lost to me once I get to my little cradle of Redwoods.
Which is where I begin: I don't seem to have a full on home base any longer. I just have a little circle of Redwood that is obviously the sort of circle a single large redwood makes when burnt out of the center, and then growing up into a small grove of younger trees, with a much older tree to one side of it. That eldest tree is Redwood. The other trees are essentially walls. I begin standing or sitting. Tonight, for the first time, I could actually turn around and see what has been behind me, and I saw that there is a smooth cut place where I may sit or lie down comfortable. I have been cradled there once. This evening I merely began there, seated, and returned there to sit when I was done being out and about.
------------------
Last Sunday I didn't get much past the grove. I wondered to Redwood why I no longer begin from "Home", and then watched, as though projected onto a screen held up between the trunks of the youngest trees, a scene of me walking up to the porch of my old home, and knocking on the door. "Why would I knock on the door of my own home?" Why indeed?
And then I answered the door, from the inside. But it was an older me inside, answering the door for a younger me. And neither is the me I am now. I am not yet the older me inside, and I am no longer the younger me outside. So for now my Home is with Redwood, and He will keep and care for me, I suppose. *sigh*
After that scene I found myself a bear. My maw was brown, but my paws and body were covered with black fur. My whole sense of physical self was contained within that bear. But She was not me. We wondered at sharing a body, but never quite got the hang of it in time to do much more. And I listened to Her litany of resignation: "Not all of my cubs will survive birth. Not all of my cubs will grow up. Not all of my cubs will survive to mate. Not all of my cubs will avoid the hunters. Not all of my cubs will be good. Not all of my cubs will be wise. Not all of my cubs will respect other species. Not all of my cubs will fulfill their potential. I cannot solve all the problems of the world one cub at a time, but I cannot even try to do anything else."
And I wondered at why I was so abruptly visited by this bear when I have never encountered Her before. I discussed it with Turtle (a human) later, and she said that Bear is a great protectress, and She is showing me Her willingness to protect me in my work in service to others. Or something along those lines.
It was clear to me that the proper title for this particular bear, despite Her internal youth, is "Grandmother".
------------------
So this evening, I had no idea what to expect for Seidh. I began, as I said, with Redwood. Leaving the grove, the path seemed much darker, older than it had ever seemed before. The trees were more twisted, and it was in no manner light outside. Someone held a lantern to light my way, and then I realized it was myself doing so. I was not uncomfortable with this passage through ancient woods, but it seemed far more magical and mysterious than the path I have known and loved - and far more potentially dangerous.
But as I came out of that path, I began to recognise just the stirrings - overlap, perhaps - with the paths I knew well. Yet when I got to Yggdrasil, I saw something I had never seen before: He had a face! Yggdrasil has always been an Entity to me. We have... communicated... before. But never through direct speech. Never has there been eye-contact. And yet I was immediately quite comfortable, and went to hug this beloved, trusted friend. We spoke, sort of. I don't remember what was said. And then I realized that the others continued on past me. No worries, Yggdrasil laughed - a very deep, almost earth-rumbling laugh. And then He swallowed me, and I fell down, down, down, until I knew I was in the Well of Wyrd. So when the time came, I did not so much cross the Well as emerge from it. And from there, sitting with the Norns, I soon found myself pulled backwards, and I saw the opening between Them, across the Well, to where the Folk waited. I was inside an earthen room, dark, warm, a bit damp. Very comfortable. Much larger than I needed. And I was quite ready to sleep, but I knew that was certainly not my purpose there.
It took some time to establish a firm connection with the Folk from this place, but I never really left it. From there I could do most anything I have ever been able to do, but without disturbance from unrequested visitors. It was very pleasant.
But I didn't feel entirely as if it was my place at all - nor did I feel entirely as if I was nothing and nobody but myself. But I didn't feel strongly that I was somebody else. More like I was another me. And I do mean another me - the identity most of you call "Ember" in this life.
When I left that place I crossed the well to join the folk, but when the time came I went ahead and descended through the Well to retrace the steps I actually took rather than following the crowd.
I don't know exactly what I connected with tonight. I do know that when I crossed over the well to the folk, a grey cat suddenly followed me, as though She had been in with me, though I hadn't percieved Her at all. It's comforting, anyway.
--Ember--