Prelude XVIII

(My previous seventeen 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 with individual episodes over to the right in the ‘Topics’ section, under ‘Prelude’)


I became aware of my sense of my Self, deep within the earth, a rich loam bursting with all the ingredients to incubate new life. A spore fell from somewhere above me and buried itself in my substance. Roots grew, a tiny stem poked above the surface and leaflets branched out.

The primordial half fern-half tree, also my Self, grew tall and strong, sent out daughter plants, gave shelter, lost leaves to storms, and sprang forth with new life in the Spring. Eventually it grew old and died, and returned to the earth. I separated from it as the cycle renewed. This was life, nothing lasted forever but all of it, remained eternal.

I faced the East and witnessed the dawn of the very first Day.

I stood upon an ancient shield volcano grown so tall throughout its long life that clouds scudded below me and occasionally, when the wind streamed beneath them, wafted over my head. The volcano met the endless ocean far in the distance. Although vast, the ocean was relatively shallow and warm, teeming with life. Some of its denizens I recognised but others sported bodies that would’ve baffled even the most ardent paleontologist.

A glow began to light the scattered wisps of cloud as a golden orb of fire rose over the edge of the far horizon. Tantalisingly slow at first, then, suddenly the sun leapt up in joyful abandon. The whole sky above me turned a vivid blue and the land breathed in the vital energy, shimmering with its own potency.

I turned from this breathtaking vista and faced the North. The land there too was shimmering, but with the heatwaves of intense fire. The North burned with radiant splendour, wild and untamable. The waves of energy beat on my skin and I let them flow through, over, and around me. Never again would I burn as I had in the beginning.

In the West the red dust, red earth, the heart-blood of this land, extended across the continent, cut by the shadow of my volcano as the sun continued to rise.

In the South, the cold wind from the snow-fields blew fierce, and welcomed all who stood with it, blowing away those who were foolish enough to stand against it.

It was a beautiful Day.

I turned full circle and faced the East again. Home of the Guardian of the East, Water.

A long swell, born out in the depths of the Pacific Ocean and pushed toward land crashed over a tumult of rocks then sent a spume of foam and sand skittering over my feet.

I felt another wave, this time inside me. Fear. Fear of not being able to breathe, of drowning. Time ebbed around me while I pondered this. I had indeed drowned, but when? Not in this life, that much was certain.

The bodies we inhabit in this time and place are the product of two incarnate lines. That of our physical ancestry. An unbroken line, mother to child stretching back past our evolution as hominids, past our mammalian heritage, back to the primordial soup, where meiosis first began. The other incarnate line is of our Spirit’s Journey, which is not constrained by the limits of time. We have always, and will always, exist in the past, the present, and the future.

I stood on the beach with the sea dancing around my toes and watched as a young woman, fifteen or so, clambered across the rocks that jutted out into the ocean like gnarled fingers. A storm has just passed, but the sea still sent churning waves to crash on the huge blocks of stone with hypnotic rhythm. She was going out to watch them.

She hopped from rock to slippery rock, sure of her footing as only one who’d spent her entire life by the sea could be, until she reached the very last one, down near the waterline. Three waves broke over her, each one larger and more powerful than the last.

I almost reached out to help, but I was just a future memory. Any action I took would be of no consequence. The sea-green salt water washed her off the rock ledge and crashed her body against the shattered rocks further in.

I mourned for the broken body but I knew her spirit had gone on from that distant land, to me.

When the sea had calmed the people of her village found her at last, caught in a tidal pool. They pulled her tenderly from the water, straightened her limbs and carried her away. As I watched I felt as though I’d been turned to stone. It’s not every day one gets to watch one’s own death … the one death I’d feared above all others, a death that although I’d made my peace with the Ocean,  I’d never truly understood.

The feeling of heaviness eased. I began to feel more … flowing.

A soft warmth enfolded me and the sea and sand faded away to be replaced by a room, circular, with wooden beams arched high above and stone walls pierced by many archways, so numerous I couldn’t count them, that seemed to increase and decrease in size and number even as I looked. Each one offered a different possibility, another Journey.

The choices were now mine.

In front of me a brightness grew and manifested into Herself. She spoke, and I heard nothing but love and humour in her voice.

“You took your time getting here.”


Thank you all for coming along on this Journey with me. It’s been a real treat to share my adventures and hear back from you via comments and emails about what they meant to you.

I’ve deliberately left a great many things unwritten, not because they’re some sort of esoteric ‘secret knowledge’ that only the ‘initiated’ can access, but because they’re the things that can’t be taught or shown with this medium, and to attempt to do so would be irresponsible.

Who knows, I might walk through one of those ‘archways’ and start teaching again.