I feel anxious this morning—dreams about money stress and other halthaya things that try to drag my mind away from the Path I’ve set myself upon. It tries to draw me into isolation in my mind, in my head. My muscles have also wanted the chance to stretch and relax—
Breathe, move, see the world beyond—
Stress and anxiety tighten us, clenches, try to harden us so the outside can’t get in or see, but that just hurts and diminishes and saps our energies towards tight isolation.
In the glade last night, I sat and rested in the rain, the Morrigan with me—I felt the rain on me, my hair wet, and I just rested.
Halthaya, hurur, mûl-ôl saps energy, uses our life to transform us into something else.
The whispers are less words, less great mystic truths than the dragon trance—experientialities, WtaW, realities—
–Oh Goddess—
–walking under the dark oak trees as myself in the rain mist, Elethis rising—the reality of the Otherworlds all about me, a kind of relaxed happy, freedom—joy and wonder and experience—it’s a calling, in a way, a call to awaken, to find lucidity, to come to the Otherworlds.
I cried, at the simple beauty and freedom of it, just a glimpse of it—and I see how it’s not all that removed from here and now, but it is. No Koranith and buildings of [town], and myself in my Presence as—
–it’s still like being made love to, gently—
It’s like knowing how you’ve been causing so much pain and distraction to yourself, how you’ve been subjecting yourself to other things, tying your life and energy into knots and giving it to other things, or denying it to yourself and it serves them for you to do it.
And everyone else you know or see has been doing this too; and they’ve been changed into angry, self-loathing puppet mockeries.
And I look now, see how it’s always been there, they’ve been there calling to me, in whispers of the Otherworlds and rainy days and soughing and sometimes you can almost hear it as thunder—and you feel like it’d kill you to understand and hear it, like the voice of gods blasting you—which it is—or as the Worlds coming into you and changing, overwhelming you, which it is.
In one way, it is a call to live as you want to live, which is ego destroying and frightening enough—and you have to face that you can work to Bridge that experientiality and have to some degree, if you’ll do it. But it’s more than just living your life; the door to the Otherworlds gets thrown open to you, or it’s there, and you see the potentialities beyond, the magic and connectedness and the realms of gods, fey, spirits, giants, and more—the LW, MW, HW stretching out, Elethis rising into the skies—you remember the magic that’s already appeared, that you’ve done that halthaya tries to make you forget, and you see more than self-therapy.
I want more than self-therapy—
To walk between the trees in the rain mist, the cool air scenting to me, the wind tugging at me and my clothes/dress/gown/skin, a smile on me as I touch the earth with my bare feet as I walk—I run through the wood and laugh and twirl—
The Otherworlds and experiential realities—being buffeted, penetrated by experiences, getting in and changing you, not wearing you down, but like making love, like calling you to feel yourself elsewhere and free, light, unburdened—
And this song, whisper, is always there like a distant thunder and roar and call, and sometimes it is thunder like the gods or the wind against you
What I see and hear is almost like the world without humanity, without the sounds of civilization and city, the incessant motors—with Nature’s Silence and myself, but—that’s only an aspect—the experience I’ve first glimpsed, once I recognized halthaya’s hold on me from my sleep.
But that glimpse is just a glimpse, a fragment that overwhelmed me with freedom and beauty, a momentary hearing of the whispers of the Otherworlds—and I remember the Morrigan’s speech that brought me to my knees, the terrible sounds I feared coming through dream TVs, and your egos know it comes from outside and not in that insidious way the thoughtgods spread cancer-like but in the way that the wind and rain and Green does—inexorable, omnipresent, and if you’re not ready to relax into it, you will shout it down with distraction, but it is there—
–“I am present—so are you,” She said.
I am here. So are you.
The shadowed gaze makes seeing it easier—but hearing, feeling it—it’s different. But the gaze and [Elethis] and cycling and Presence—
Riting earlier—the best take away I can get is that I have work to do still. This insight caused K to agree and start laughing. And a dragon laughing is something indeed.
With alignment, I took a bit more time, breathed into the God Soul above and waited a beat for it to flush before calling it down. I even pulled it down into me after aligning, which was interesting. (More in a moment) Sweep arms out for the aura, then breathe into it, as it cycles, and push it out just a tad. It’s much the same with the sticky body.
After this, I med’d, or tried to. My usual attempts are too much me being stiff, and the shaman drum music doesn’t work. I will find myself in the glade, dancing with the Morrigan. And She’s willing to make out—that & dancing happened until we began dancing into the air until I think I tried to rise into my God Soul or into the White Room or the White Crack—or something like that. I came out on my side, clutching my head. Not pain so much as TOO MUCH. Like trying to mainline some reality I’m not ready for—my ego fights back or I can’t make immediate sense.
I had seizures on the floor as I tried to have some experience, some connection, but I think I’m fighting it, some ego part of my brain. I med’d on the flame for a bit, and I had a vision of myself as the Star Goddess dancing in the dark, and my body started to feel heavy and strange with the form and as if We were growing pregnant…and desirous—and I think my ego had problems and resisted. But it was weird and glorious nonetheless.
But I think part of what’s overwhelming me are experientialities & realities I can’t make sense of yet—like opening your eyes after not using them for ages and then trying to make sense while light assails you.
But I also had the sense of seizuring while trying to bridge into the Otherworlds—and my Presence, self that’s there. Am I leaving my Presence all over the place?
It is easier to find Silence when it’s quiet—it’s a simple thing, but it helps. No music, no overwhelming sound of motors—
Also, girl, call your Presence—the Wanderer home and close—and make nice with the God Soul, draw it down.
I also assumed the Crow for a brief time, but this almost seemed like a reminder—or She was trying to show me something.
My [pentagrams] were also distinctive: triskels in the middle today:
[pentagram with triskel in center]