Of time, flight, wisdom and divinity

For those of you who read this blog but are not aware of the other rooms where I write all over and hang pictures on the wall, you will probably do better understanding this post if you take a look in The Tribes of Art.  There you will find some of my inspirers, spirit guides, conspirators and cohorts in crime.

Yesterday's walk included elements shared with me by my friends William and Hans.  For Sir William, my angel of music, it was about angels and the music of the Earth and of the Universe.  Actually the language of the Infinite is creaks and groans, squeaks and moans, whines and cries and the grating of stone.  If you mash that all together you will discover the most primal of music.  William takes the heartbeats of the planets, the stars and space beaten on multiheaded drums and mixes them with the deep harmonicas pulled and plucked from the strings of harps, violins and guitars.  Validation of this revelation came in the discovery of a small, pure white feather along the labyrinth path.  I choose to believe that a molting angel walk by.

Then there were all the other pieces contributed by The Bee.  Lately he's been focusing on feathers.  For him, it is his family heritage.  For me it was about rising above all the things and people seeking to pull me down and put me under their weights.  He's also back on the key theme.  He has unlocked a door in his life that has allowed for healing of old wounds.  All through the Lenten season and even before I've learned that other people's keys are not mine.  They have opened doors that I have been invited to walk through.

Keys also wind clocks and machines. They tune instruments. Hans has captured wisdom in due time with brush and pencil.  Owls
and clocks blend together on canvas and paper.  I drive off to walk, to meditate and as I drive I think about time and about the understanding that my spiritual goes from Vernal Equinox to Vernal Equinox.  My year dies as the snow that has congealed into dirt and gravel coated masses of ice melts away to reveal gray-green grass, and dead leaves and mud.  As the roadbeds fissure into ruts and potholes.  As the drapes become weighted down with winter's dust and the smell of stuffiness, longing to be washed and hung outside on the line.  Even though daylight began to stretch in December to become equal in March, until it gets there and then sunlight outlasts the night my new year has not begun.  The old one is still fading away.  My clock is winding down.  And that was when it hit me.  How to meditate this year's walk.  Finish running the time out on the walk in.  Let the gears slow to a complete STOP. Let the last grains of sand fall through the narrow opening and joint rest in the bottom of the glass.

Walking in I listened to William and the Harp on my iPod.  I physically felt my body and mind unwind.  I reviewed the past year and all that I had learned.  I had seen the Darkness on more than one level, face to face.  I had physically connected with some of my spirit family.  I had danced with sylphs, My children had taught me how to laugh again and we were family under one roof again for a short period.  I had experienced my mother moving into the last phases of life and teaching myself to be less selfish, spending time with her helping her hold onto as many memories as possible, even ones as simple as what day it is.  Being stabbed in the back and having the knife twisted.  Learning that what looked like the door that would get me away from that situation was not. Coming back around to my resolve to get the hell out of there.  Being invited to a gathering of the tribe.  Learning that I have a responsibility to them and to tell their stories even if only for those who come behind us.  Unwinding,  completely empty as I reached the center...and sat.

I put my root chakra into the ground to draw nourishment.  I opened my heart chakra, letting it break.  Letting love out, letting it in.  I opened my mind to wisdom that would help to rewind me.  I reclaimed by chi for the Light Spirits from the Darkness that twists my gut in knots.  The white fire must also burn inside.  I released my dragon so she could stretch and bask in the sun for a while.  I felt the voices of the wind and the birds.  Then I walked out, winding the clock as I went.  The piece playing on my 'pod included many metal sounds, gears moving, weights colliding.  Not only was a clock being wound, a large one, one that requires a person to grasp the chain and ride the weight to the bottom of the tower but a machine with all of the dragon army being cogs and gears, all manner of parts.  The machine is not complete.  Others will be added as we work toward the New Age.  Progress.  Moving forward.  As my feet on the path, moving through to something different, something better.  Pushing through that which has tried to hold us back for too long.  I even danced a little.  I felt like and productive.

When I reached the exit I was fully wound.  The batteries completely charged.  I turned to the labyrinth to say final thanks and to ask the Fates to wipe it clean for the next person to come and find their enlightenment. ..and that's when I saw it.  I've been walking this particular path for 4 years now but as with all things...in their own time (oh there's that pesky clock reference again)...the center of this path is a keyhole.  Every year, I take my key and unlock something new...or old but to find new inspiration, wisdom or understanding whose time had not come until then.

Clocks and feather, owls and harps, angels and ravens and keys, locks and pens.  I take all of this into the tomb and sit quietly with it until tomorrow morning when the Spirit rolls the stone back and lets the sun shine on it again.  Once again "they" try to kill it.  Once again, we of the Light, die but with the knowledge that we will rise again much to "their" chagrin bringing back justice, truth, compassion, joy, peace and love.  We shine our lights on them and they scurry from it.  But today is the day of the tomb.  We have passed through Sheol and now sleep peacefully, resting our very souls.  Tomorrow with clocks fully wound we will walk out and continue this journey.  Blessed are the peacemakers, the humble, the poor, the artists, the laborers, the parents, all who are of the Light and work to move humanity forward into the Great Light.