We’re 9 in the Circle, but I’m the 7th.
The ancient carried wound resonates the number. It’s in the instant expression of her vibration mirrored towards me. She IS me. She is that wound. It sends an instant reminder of the endless pain into my heart. Tears are instant. Breaking open. Instant. Accepting this moment in time on this day, with this portal, this one chance of healing. Accepting. Stepping into it. Embracing it.
He has given enough conformation about the reason for his presence in my house. And he never leaves. He is a gatekeeper, making sure there is nothing but true love here. I want nothing less, in fact. All the Lords who have visited, their teachings all gave the archetypal ring and resonance on the journey towards knowing and feeling. Embodying. This Blue Light now. At the end of all that is in the past.
The root never found, the tree left to grow and what the trunk drew in in its shadow became dark and lonely, but strong. Very very strong and unbreakable. A survivor. But all alone. Heartbroken. Never needing anyone, because the needing of someone would send an instant reminder of the open bleeding wound. The work done on mustering up enough strength to work through it, to cleanse it, the amount of attempts to stand in it, to endure it’s deep pain and the burning in the Fire of it, to try and fix it, to try to heal, but it is endless, it has no beginning and it has no end. Healing has no effect here. Moments of release, perhaps. Moments of peace, but never healed. Never not there.
I can’t remember why it was inflicted, but I remember that it was, it was before time, and it was repeated over and over and again in different disguises, the same pain, the same split, the same fall from grace, the same injustice done life after life after life.
I’ve watched the end of the world and the beginning of dawns. I have stood all alone in those fields. All alone. Unable to die, unable to live. Separated. Trapped in the body in a realm of loneliness and injustice. And no magic, no spells, no ceremony, no ritual would have a cure or a pleasing of the gods.
Carried through all ages, eras, lifetimes, trying to find the root, trying to find the reason and it has chased me through endless of projections, mirrored reflections, attracting, calling on similar situations, but however painful, it was never quite it. It has become a companion, a friend, the one friend that never leaves, when everyone else does, and keeps me in his loop of proving to me, I am forever marked and cannot escape. It will never be any different. They do leave, I AM alone. I am separated and left heartbroken. And I am but a fool for trying to create anything else.
The Blue Light gently strikes my cheek and blows new Air into my broken heart. He reminds me of the promises written, and the old scripts rewritten and those that served their purposes burned. He reminds me and whispers words back to me of rituals and ceremonial work that echo in eternity and has found a resonating vibration and is coming, is in the midst of creation, and this.. THIS is just part of it.. it is part of the making. This is according to plan. What cannot stand must fall. It is a good thing. You want only true lOve. Nothing else. I am the guardian. I am that.
He reminds me of his pact with me, his function in this house. He wipes my tears, asks me to embrace exactly what is feared, the dark, the strong empowered woman, that the world seems to fear, but I have to be, I have to be, she is my release, she’s my peace, and allowed to grow wild after caring less about other’s reaction, look how beautiful you will be. That’s the beauty of truth, of allowing, of being. Just being. Embracing her, letting her be, I am let out.
I am free.
The wound is open. Bleeding these days. I mistake it for all kinds of things. And I cry, I ache, I get impatient and I fall into the trap of construction, time, words and limitations. But all that is not true. I am loved. I am safe. I am in love. I never fell out. I have no time for words, talking or explanations. What has been said is no longer important. It has lost meaning. There is only lOve. I have no participation in rules and constructions. I am left to grow wild. My feet are bare, my hair is white from the Sun and the salty waves, also left to grow and no man can tell me it’s too long.. Here in that sacred landscape that sings, grows how it wants to, breathes and lives in balance and according to plan, whatever that plan is, I am wild, free, full of jOy and lOve.
You will feel both in my presence. The intense pain and the intense lOve. That’s my gift. That’s my present to the world. I can walk with you to the dark caves, cause I remember the end of the world and the original wound, and I'm not scared of it. I am not scared of the Dark. But I have seen eternity as well. And there is lOve. Only lOve. And this journey leads to there. Only there