16 July 2014


Lately, my intuition has had hold of the reins. I’m finally learning to listen to the subtle wise impulses. Just a few minutes ago, I decided I needed to walk out to buy seed for the birds, even though I could just as well have waited. On my way back, I saw my friends Colin and Josh, and stopped to visit. I hadn’t seen Josh in a while, and had just been wondering what he was up to. He showed me some recent drawings, which reminded me so clearly of something I saw in a vision that I described it to him. He was interested in learning more, so I promised to post the full description to my blog.

The account that follows is significant for several reasons. One, of course, is that it was detailed and clear, and entirely spontaneous. The gifts I was given are extremely powerful, and I do indeed use them. Most of all, it means so much to me because I was at the lowest point of my life. I was pretty much in the midst of a complete nervous breakdown, and extremely suicidal. I knew I wouldn’t make it without help, so I sought it, and this is how it was given. The spirits one meets in vision are spirits, yes, but the three I met also have real-life counterparts, each of whom is very dear to me, so that was an unusual surprise.


21 December 2013

Winter Solstice

I was worried about yesterday and today, but I took the best care of myself I could, and did trancework all night and was rewarded with very strong visions. By the moment of Solstice, I was ready to get up and open the window and greet the Sun. It was behind clouds, but just as I looked out, it met a small clearing. Through the fog I could see the entire disc, sharply outlined. I then went back to bed and the visions continued. I told [my friend far away] I would be with him, and felt very near him.

The main vision, which I went in and out of because it was long and I am very distractable right now, had several parts. First, I went to a temple where I’ve been before. Previously, I had left my pain body before the altar, in the care of the Shining Ones. I left her lying on the marble steps, but I asked for cushions for her, and they brought a very luxurous bed and placed her on it, with candles burning, and other signs of care. L. [my Muse] was with me. I explained my intent, to remove all trace of suicide ideation, timidity, shame, and other things that make me unable to be active and interact with the world and be happy doing it. With L., I was directed to leave that place. We were soon walking across a lawn toward a forge. A man was working there who had long blonde hair. He greeted me with warm smiles. I thought of Wayland. I left the boards I have used to mentally beat myself with, and the needles and other implements that I picture raining down and dissolving me. That very minute, he broke up the boards and threw them into the fire. He took all the metal to be melted down. I understood that they would be transformed and given back as a power gift. I expecteded something cast from the melted needles, but I couldn’t imagine what it would be. L. and I walked on, but I felt I wanted to give him something in return for what he was doing for me, and instantly I was holding a huge sheaf of red roses. I gave them to him, he accepted happily, and we walked on to let him do his work.

We went toward a small cottage just a little way on, over the lawn and along the treeline of a wood. I knew who lived there, a very old woman who was my friend. I left with her all the shame, especially body-related, and most especially anything sexual or female. Everything that has ever embarrassed me so ‘I thought I would die!’ Again, we left as she set to work.

The third Shining One we visited live in a mandorla-shaped opening in an old tree. This person was so completely androgynous that even the concept of male or female slid right off. They were busy working in a kitchen full of bubbling pots and pans. I knew my pain-issues here would be cooked into something much better, so I left everything that made me not want to go out and be among others—any shyness, shame, lack of self-esteem, autism or whatever makes me anxious and unable to do things others take for granted, just in general whatever the hell else is wrong with me that the others aren’t already taking care of. When I looked right at this person, they turned into a mandorla-shaped window directly into the cosmos, a small section of night sky thick with stars. I wondered if this was [my star] in person, although I had a dream blip in which the stars of [my constellation] assembled before me, and I seem to recall them all as women. Perhaps my mistake? Then they turned back into the first form I saw. This being actually removed the entire top of my skull after I explained what I was hoping for and how bad things have been. They had to dig down very deep, where they found a quantity of black sludge. They scraped it out with an instrument as I lay back and we chatted! The sludge went into the cooking pot. Everything did, that I had left and did not want. I talked about my shame over being attracted to intoxicants, and told them I only want to stop being ashamed and never to hurt myself with them, but I also never want to have to completely forsake beer. They don’t seem to see this as a problem, so I don’t want to either.

We went back to the forge, and it turned out that my gift was a chainmail dress as fine and beautiful as lace or spiderwebs, weightless, invisible to all but spirit people, which I can wear at all times for protection. The smith told me it would protect me better than I could ever protect myself, so leave it to my armor and otherwise let go. I can go among others unguarded; that has been taken care of.

When we returned to Grandmother’s, she had transformed what I left with her into a lens about six inches across, round, and made of thin, delicate layers of what looked like clear, clean ice on the verge of melting. It was prismatic around the edges. When I look through that, I will see things in their perfected, purified form, especially myself. There is no need for anything to be cleansed. I can let go of all judgment, criticism, blame, etc. because what I see through the lens will render those things meaningless. Everything is already pure.

At the hollow tree, my gift was a black diamond bigger than my fist. All of my personal darkness had been placed under the pressure of the stars this Shining One was made of until it was altered completely. I don’t yet fully understand how to use this as a tool, but even though it is solid black, it is brilliant, and the angles of the facets cast rainbows like a prism. It is protective of me, and can be carried in my heart if I feel troubled about anything, but it is more. Those rainbows are connected to the rainbow bridge, and of course the brilliant facets and shining points remind me of the Net of Indra yet again. I have much more to learn about this being, but I already know they are why I am drawn to androgynous or gender-variant people.

After all this, I was concerned that I hadn’t thanked them enough, so we went back to all three and I told them how grateful I was. We then returned to the temple, where the pain-body was sweaty and feverish, but being tended very closely by healing temple spirits. Ever since I sort of distanced or separated myself from her, I have been able to see her as a valiant but desperately weary person who has worked very, very hard and is entirely deserving of empathy and compassion—but not necessary to identify with anymore. This is the moment of transformation, the one I have been awaiting. If I can just let her go, leave her in the temple while I move forward without the old limitations (which I could also see, as coming from inside, and as removable objects), I can have the brilliant, happy future I can almost see.


Yes, it was real, it worked, and it is still working.


About J

formal verse poetry and commentary at
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