Prelude VIII

Tooth update: Thanks for all your good wishes. It looks like it was an abscess, and yesterday that little bugger burs … lets just say it was disgusting, and leave it at that shall we? The antibiotics continue to do their job and the prospect of jaw-achingly painful dental surgery no longer looms overhead.


(My seven previous adventures into other Realms of Awareness can be read in sequence on their own page, ‘Prelude’ just up there on the header, or you can catch up on individual episodes over to the right in the ‘Topics’ section, under ‘Prelude’)


I’d come to terms with the less-than-salubrious aspects of University life and started to enjoy stretching myself academically. It certainly was something, as a high-school dropout, I’d never envisaged for myself.

My Journey work consistently blew my little cotton socks off every week. Learning about aspects of my Self and my abilities opened me up to worlds beyond my wildest imaginings.

But … my home life was ripping me apart. Sometimes relationships end painlessly, (relativelyand sometimes, they don’t. Sometimes there’s evisceration and misery. Lots of misery.

My first ever full-on, flat-out, moving-in-together, long-term relationship was done, finished, kaput. We were at the messy, ugly, and never-ending, cutting-up-the-corpse-and-getting-rid-of-the carcass, stage.


Part of my ritual before setting out on a Journey was to connect with the energy of the Earth and use it to center and ground my physical, emotional, and intellectual bodies, and to give my Power Centers, (Chakras in some spiritual traditions) a bit of an invigorating, ‘out with the old and in with the new’ energy burst.

These energies usually manifested in a wondrous mix of colours and images, but that afternoon my ex and I had a huge blow-up, and in celebration of that singular event, black tar covered everything, and no-one wanted to come out and play in my technicolour journey-scape.

With an, ‘Oh bother’, and a ‘Bah-humbug.’ (I may have used slightly stronger phrases) I got on with it.

I traveled through time and space to a lake high in the mountains, a vividly blue lake, the blue of mountain air, winter, and cloudless skies.

In the middle of the lake was an island,(for any newcomers to my blog who don’t already know, for the last six years I’ve lived on an island in the middle of a lake. How cool is that?) and in the middle of the island, towering over everything, stood a very active volcano, reputed to be a summer home of the Goddesses of Volcanoes, Chantico and Pele.

I needed find out, quickly, what season I’d landed in, because if those two were vacationing nearby, this little black duck (Daffy Duck reference) was gonna get outta Dodge, pronto!

In the meantime, my destination came into being around me. I stood in a little vale nestled between two spurs of cooled lava flows. In a glade near the center of the valley a group of women were dancing a Spiral Dance. (There’s a video at the end of this post that gives you a better idea of what a Spiral dance is than my favourite go-to resource, Wikipedia, can)

The women invited me to join them but I really didn’t feel like it. My black mood from the fight with my ex, and my tarred Power Centers, clung to me like a bitter miasma.

I considered leaving and calling the whole Journey off when the ground gave a little shake. Pele and Chantico obviously had other ideas. I sat my glum self down on a nearby log and wondered what I was in for.

The two of them got the whole volcano a-rumbling and a-grumbling for a while but then everything went quiet and still.

I held my breath.

A single CRACK! snapped through the air like a gunshot. Then another, and another.  A breach formed high up on the rim of the volcano. A narrow fissure gnawed its way down the mountainside, through the vale, through the glade, and stopped right in front of my feet.

“What?” I said, as it nudged my toes. “I’m not moving! Go around.”

“Sooner or later you’re going to have to deal with this, so it may as well be now.” Pele/Chantico, now joined in a single entity, answered.

 “I’ve already battled once today. I don’t want to do another one.”

She seemed to consider my stance for a few moments, then the fissure zipped back up the volcano, and all was it had been.

“That was easy,” I commented to no-one in particular.


I looked up at the rim and there was Pele/Chantico,waiting for me.

“Well, fine,” I muttered under my breath, and I set off, one foot after the other, up the side of the damned volcano.

My path through the glade soon came to an end and the only way up that I could see was along a very steep, boulder riddled, creek bed with shallow rills of water burbling and skipping down it. I lost count of how many times I slipped and fell on the rocks. I cut myself so often the water began to run red with my blood.

“Why are you bleeding and angry?” Pele/Chantico asked me when I finally reached the top.

“I’m not angry!” I said through clenched teeth. “I am so sick of having to cut my heart out every time we meet.” I wasn’t sure if I was referring to my ex or my Journeying, or both. “I’m tired, wrung out, bled to death, and empty.”

Pele/Chantico looked at me with such compassion in Her eyes that I nearly crumpled into a puddle of tears on the spot. She stretched out her arm, palm facing me and focused on my Crown Center. I closed my eyes and felt a golden sparkle dance through my skull and dissolve all the bleak tar energy that had filled me to despair. She imbued my whole being with the essence of Her energy.

I smiled to myself. Love, that wondrous gift, did indeed come from the most unexpected places.

The golden energy enlightened me, quite literally. As my colourlessness had previously enabled me to fly, this kindly gift lifted me off the top of the volcano and swept me into another Realm.

I landed on a ledge high up on the face of a single mountain. On one side a green fertile valley with cultivated fields and darker green patches of forest stretched to the horizon. On the other was an ocean, bright and sparkling in the glorious summer sunshine. Behind me eternal snow capped the top of the mountain.

It felt like home.

A cloak of feathers and other magical things fell around my shoulders. Soft and warm, it too felt like home.

I turned around, (it was always a struggle to turn around. Some times were easier than others. This time it went rather smoothly) and came face-to-face with a woman who had a cloak, identical to mine, on her shoulders.

She hugged me then said, “There’s a storm coming.”

I looked out to the horizon, expecting to see a thunderstorm brewing, but there was nary a cloud in sight. She turned me around and pointed down the face of the mountain.

A turgid, roiling, mass was clawing its way up toward us. Livid streaks of oppressive colour oozed through it like slow-motion lightning.

I watched in horror as an arm, a woman’s arm, struggled free of the morass only sink back below the surface. Then a leg. Elsewhere a head. A torso.

My senses were assailed by the most heart-rending emotions.

“What am I supposed to do with this?” I asked the woman, feeling like I might collapse under the weight of my broken heart.

“Let it go,” she said.

It was then I saw I had a rope in my hands, attached to that … that thing, that storm. I was holding it up.

 “Let it go,” she said, gently.

“But there are parts of me there. Parts of my relationship with her.”

“Let it go,” she said, implacably this time.

Slowly, so slowly, I opened my hands and the rope slid through my fingers. The storm, with all the body bits still sticking out of it, fell and shattered on the rocks at the foot of the mountain.

I didn’t think I’d ever feel clean again. I needed to get off that ledge.

I certainly wasn’t going to climb down through that slimy mess so I handed my cloak back to the feather woman, cleared my body of all colour and ran to the edge of the mountain.

I somersaulted through the air, twisting and turning this way and that. I laughed out loud for the sheer joy of flying and hovered a few meters out from the ledge.

There was a different woman standing there, tiny, hunched in on herself.

“Don’t go,” she called out in a scratchy hollow voice. “Don’t leave me behind. Please take me with you.”

My eyes filled with tears. “I can’t. This ending was your choice. Now you have to follow that path.”

I could see her judging the distance between us and I hastily backed up a few meters.

Her tearful face changed abruptly and she sneered at me until finally she turned and began to clamber down off the ledge, muttering under her breath all the while. I knew that as soon as she was out of sight she’d forget all about me.

My breath caught in the back of my throat as I breathed a huge sigh of relief. The feather woman wafted her cloak across the ledge, clearing away any residual energies.

As I landed next to her she passed me my cloak. I slipped it on and felt the feathers take hold.

“There is not much time left,” she said with the unflappable, yet focused demeanor that birds of prey exhibit just before they take flight to hunt their next meal.

“Time enough though.” I said kinda cheekily, as we spread our wings, together.


The only image I could find of Chantico on the public domain, via Wikipedia

The only image I could find of Chantico on the public domain, via Wikipedia


22 comments on “Prelude VIII

  1. susielindau says:

    Wow, what a journey!

    Liked by 1 person

  2. More entrancing writing. When a boil on my bum burst in bed it complete discoloured the sheets. Compared with your abscess I reckon I was lucky

    Liked by 1 person

  3. Sue Vincent says:

    Glad the abscess has sorted itself out a bit.
    I am enjoying your journey…rather different from mine in the detail, but not so much in essence.

    Liked by 1 person

  4. bone&silver says:

    “Slowly, so slowly, I opened my hands and the rope slid through my fingers. The storm, with all the body bits still sticking out of it, fell and shattered on the rocks at the foot of the mountain.”
    Yes. This. F*cken hard to do, but it has to be done. Tears here. Thank you Widds x

    Liked by 1 person

  5. Wow. What a cool sequence. I loved the storm and how you let it go, even with the part of you within it. And then donned your feathers and flew. And I’m glad to hear the tooth problems are almost behind you. 🙂

    Liked by 2 people

  6. Letting go is gigantic. I like your mode of bursting out of grumpy glumness.

    Liked by 2 people

  7. Suzanne says:

    How wonderful to have such awful tooth problems then to find release in a shamanic journey.

    Liked by 1 person

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