The Present

March 10, 2016

The invisible is full of life. The second sight allows me to peek through apparent thin air, and the sharper look reveals an Air laden with golden magic, whispers from angels and kisses from the beings from my forest. Golden dust is showering down on me as to remind me, that I am deeply protected. 


Carried, kissed and nurtured through withdrawal shakes of a determined Ego, not just my own, but carrying in its essence the long line of inherited angry female energetics, so much angrier than my own. 
The very wrath of those souls being unable to break free from their own emotional prison, shooting their hardest plea at me through my own ego and its final stages of death spasms. 
‘Regain control!! Shut that heart right back up!’

 

But how can I now? The Heart is bleeding love. Raw, unconditional, beautiful, compassionate Love. The aching, the yearning for allowing it. And it's this very love experience that has opened to the voices of a thousand years pleading inside. In both directions. 
‘Let loose! / Shut it down! Let loose!! / Shut it down!’
The battle exhausting!

 

I dismiss it and return to my kitchen depressed state of mind. The Spring is not here yet, it’s another dark day, within as without. Whatever fear does to our minds is certainly depressing.

The magic wanders out of the Impossible into manifestation as a message is received. ‘There is a present OUTSIDE your door!’

The Present, the Now, shows me that I need to go outside to find it. A change of perspective. My inside-out has flipped. Everything is in flow and nothing stays the same. Yesterday’s process may be today’s set back.
The Universes shift. In a split second everything can change.

The Unicorns I never believed in. Now they’re everywhere. They live right next door, and their magic is to be had now, so naturally I had to move in here to receive it. 


The greater weaving of things. backtracking, I see I am led farther and farther back to see where and how it began. The magnitude of journeys. 
The act of choosing the Path of the Consecrated? Was it then and there? When hanging on a raw mountain side with nothing to hold onto but prayer and faith, that made the way down possible. The reward was the sight of that ancient mark, like a nod of blessing and acceptance.

Or was it long before? Hanging by a moment as if waiting to understand the clue that defined this journey, before I can make the right step into the future. I must check every detail, so that I can finally let it go.

A future that can only continue by journeying with love. The open Heart. Accepting the journey will be with that Male co-writer. The Man. And that it’s ok that I need him to co-weave as I accept he is part of my script.


Or go back and rechoose the way down from a mountain and take the safe way down. Say no. Don’t be hanging there with but a prayer in your heart. Was The White Goat there to remind me of what would be coming? Or to show me my feet would find the solid rock foundation even if I let go? The steps backwards through initiation. The shedding of armor. The wisdom to release the dictates and those cries from the wrath and destruction of repressed female energy in that cave. The Wisdom of the Broken Heart. 16/7 and the Mirror. And then that New Moon and the union.


I’m still in love, I’m still in love, I’m still in love…

 

Or was it the notion in the church and noticing the room with a sign on the door? ‘Preparation for baptism and wedding.’

Footsteps.

Arriving at looking at reality as it is and learning it holds the magic I always thought was only inside. Reversed realities. A little treasure chest within that needed to be opened. It’s light working its way through the stored dust and demons. The cure was worse than the disease, but such are the conditions when insideoutness works its wonders and changes your path. To purpose.

Reality is full of real love, real passions, real emotions, solid ground, real magic and real weaving. It’s the Heaven on Earth. The manifestation of Forest Magic. There is a PRESENT outside my door.

 

The reality has become the magic I only thought was inside. The love is real. 
As only love is.

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​© 2020 by Camila Reland

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