Young, Unknown

Published under Psychic Services on January 23, 2008

I met my first enemy when I was four. Sure, not the nicest thing to say, but what else do you call a person who at 5 was skilled at manipulation, bossiness, and lying? I can’t count now how many times I came home crying from her words that stung me, how she’d tell me we would go swimming and I would show up in my bathing suit with towel and she would tell me to go home, she was just kidding. Her name was Lori, a little spoiled Italian girl, and she moved when I was 6. I thanked my lucky stars for that.

It didn’t change the lasting effects her control and temper had over me. I became a bit of a suck up to other kids at school, and my god, such a crybaby. Every insult I took personally, and the tears flowed. I had pretty well no friends in elementary school, I had no idea how to relate to people, I would compliment, suck up, almost beg for them to stay friends with me and they wouldn’t. I was automatically named the weird kid, and for no particular reason either.

My parents had no idea what to do, but in our family, I was too, the black sheep. I guess it didn’t matter what I did, I was always wrong, I was always yelled at for it, and I was never taken seriously. I cowarded to my mother’s hand. Yes, despite her handicap, she was very good at incurring physical abuse, whether it was for taking one of my brother’s toys, or for dropping a plate on the floor. True, there were good times, it wasn’t like my parents were divorced and I was living in a bad neighborhood, they were good parents, aside from the obvious mistakes they made.

I met so many enemies at school, and with my parents being half enemies half friends, and no where close to understanding me, I generally kept my thoughts to myself. My grandmother always said, “Children should be seen and not heard.” Well, I just avoided everyone as much as possible.

Finally in grade 2 I made friends with a girl down the street named Marnie. We didn’t go to the same school, and we would play together after school. She was my best friend, had a similar parental issue with her father who could never stop yelling at her, and of course, her parents always worried that kids would only be her friend because they had a pool in their backyard. I’ll admit, I enjoyed their pool, it was fun to play in, but we barely got to use it. Marnie and I played a lot of make believe games with each other. She was okay with the fantasy games I wanted to play, mermaids when we were in the pool, and witches when we were in the play ground. We spent time raising energy from the ground . . . and casting spells on people, and bringing forth the dead. No, I wish I was joking, we used to heal the land, we used to open vortexes, and yeah, we used to use our powers for little things.

Of course, this was just a nice escape from the kids at school who had become accustomed to name calling, and playing tricks on me. I was always the brunt of the joke. My teachers always said, “She has such potential, if she would only believe in herself a little more.”

Ha, that’s kinda hard when you don’t have friends and you don’t just think everyone is against you, but somehow you know it’s true. It’s hard when you know what everyone thinks about you. I ran into an old elementary buddy once while I was working at the mall, and we got talking about elementary school, she said, “You know, we didn’t insult you half as much as you thought we did . . . sometimes you’d just burst out crying for no reason.” I have to say my stomach clenched, and I told her that lots had happened since then, and maybe it was something I couldn’t control at the time.

That was an understatement. Later on one of my co-workers at the mall was someone I went to high school with, and her quote was, “Well, we all thought you needed help because you’d talk to yourself in the halls.” How embarrassing! I knew my abilities, I knew there was nothing wrong with me, I had been in and out of counselors offices who simply said I had a social problem, and had trouble relating to people, that I could understand.

But I digress, this story or tidbit of my life has a much deeper purpose, it just doesn’t make sense without a back story. The point is, all my life I had been met with enemies, with half hearted friends who easily stabbed me in the back, and with parents who were unhelpful, and unsupportive.

Then my family booked a trip to Florida. It was the beginning of grade 8, and I actually got to miss a week of school. Exciting! First we went to Orlando for 4 days, and while we were there we went to Disney World, Epcot Center, MGM and Universal Studios. Then on Thursday, September 11th, 1997 we went to Typhoon Lagoon.

It was about 10am when we arrived, and we first found our spot. I asked my dad if I could get a hair wrap, and he said sure. So, I spent about half an hour getting a strand of my hair wrapped in threads, with a bead at the bottom. It was pretty. After that we went back to my main water park ritual. I told my parents I would check in at another time, and took off to find someone that I could spend the day with. Into the wave pool I went, confident and not worried about the life I had left back at home. I always did this, sometimes I was a Kristen, other times I was Ilyana, other times Christine, whatever name I wanted to use I did. On that day I had chosen to use Ilyana, and soon I found a younger girl doing doggie paddle in water just too deep for her. I said hello, and she replied back in a British accent. Perfect, she would never suspect. I asked her name, and her age, Sarah and 12, and then heard another voice behind me. “Sarah, get back here, it’s too deep and you can’t swim.” I looked at her, and not behind me, and she said, “Ugh, I can too swim, stop trying to tell me what to do!” and I asked, “Who is that?”

“It’s my brother, Lee.” I said okay and then turned to look at the guy standing behind me. Surely enough, there he was, shining blue eyes, dirty blonde hair, and he was smiling at me. I introduced myself, and then asked if we might hang out for the day. They said it would be fine, but that we had to stay with Sarah and watch her. We agreed and then decided to go and explore the water park. We went from the wave pool to the lazy river, then to the water slides and beach volleyball court. We became friends fast, spending most of our day in the lazy river diving for coinage that had fallen to the bottom of the river.

Then Lee asks me, “Have you ever swam with sharks?” I said no, and he says, “Do you know how to snorkel?” “Yes.” I lied. So we take the stairs out of the lazy river and head over to the shark exhibit. We get vests and goggles with a snorkel extension. I tried to use it when we were in the water, but all I got was a mouthful of saltwater, and I had to raise my head out of the water and kick despite saying that might upset the sharks.

Wouldn’t this be a great story if I had upset one of those sharks?

Regardless, Lee’s beside me and he says, “Why don’t you look?” so I take one last look down and then get out of the water. He asks me what happened when I choked on the water, and I said, “I don’t know, I think mine was broken.” Subject dropped we headed back to the lazy river, and found more coins, and then decided to go back on another ride. This time it’s the family raft, and Lee says, “Well, I suppose we could be a family, since Sarah is so short.” I laughed, and we went on the raft together. Then headed off to find the money we had hidden in the sane by the volleyball post. We bought curly fries with the money and Sarah says, “You had better eat them fast, Lee’s a pig.”

After that it was starting to get late in the afternoon, and neither of us had checked in, so we went over to Lee’s parent’s area, where his mom was sitting, he said hello, and then said he was leaving again. Sarah had to come with. We went by where my parents were staying but nobody was there. So, after that we went on more rides, and I saw my Dad and brother in one of the lines, I waved and said hello, and they waved back, and continued on. Suddenly, I could feel someone playing with my hair, I turn around and it’s Lee, and he says, “Oh, I was just fixing it . . . . ” I told him it was okay, and he stopped.

Sarah was getting so bored with our antics at this point. More than once had our eyes met and we had that lingering gaze at one another, and more than once had our hands had brushed and more than once had we laughed at each other and made allusions to a future life together. I just couldn’t help wanting to live in my fantasy world because this was the first person who ever treated me like I was someone special, and someone that was worth spending time with.

The day continued, we went back to the lazy river and just as we get to where it splits off into two, Sarah decides she’s coming with me, and Lee goes on the other side. She asks, “Do you fancy him?” I didn’t say anything but I blushed, and she said, “But he’s so ugly!” and I said, “I don’t think so . . . . . yeah I guess I like him.” she said, “Ew.” and I said, “Can you go find out if he likes me?” So she rolled her eyes and said she would. We got to the part where the river meets for a brief second and then another island continues, Sarah goes to the other island where Lee is and I continue on the other side. After that island there is a space where the river meets, followed by a cave with a waterfall at the mouth of it. I stop before the cave, and I’m pushing against the current, waiting for them to emerge. Sarah comes, and Lee is standing up in the water while I’m crouching. Sarah says, “He wants to know why.” and I respond, “Nevermind.” but it’s too late, he’s almost smirking and Sarah says, “It’s because she fancies you.” My mouth is hanging open and I look at him and can’t even open my mouth. Of course, he smiles and swims past me, without a word.

Another revolution around the lazy river. Okay he didn’t say he liked me, but he’s now acting weird and flirty, staring at me, and catching my gaze a lot more. We talk about home, and he asks me about meeting again, and my phone number and everything. I think it’s odd, but I agree to meet him on the weekend, and I rattle off my home phone number, but I doubt he remembers it.

Then out of nowhere, he decides to join me on one side of the islands, and while Sarah is on the other he picks me up out of the water. I laugh and scream and tell him to put me down, so he does. Then as we exit that part of the lazy river, he picks up Sarah briefly, and then comes and picks me up. He says, “Do you want me to carry you through the waterfall?” I automatically say no, so he sits me on his lap, and not knowing where to put my hands, I put my arm around his neck, and of course, our eyes meet.

I’d like to say that I let him carry me through the waterfall, and that he kissed me when he did so, but nothing like that happened. He actually asked me how much I weigh after that, and I soon learned about weight in Stones.  Then I swam under the waterfall, and Lee followed, and as we were exiting the cave, he called me and offered his hand to me. So we held hands, and he tried to stand up in the river, while I crouched down trying to hide it. I let go of his hand and start walking in front of him.

He stops and says, “That’s so weird. I just remembered, I had a dream about you. Same bathing suit, same back. You were walking away from me.” I smiled and we continued on.

It wasn’t soon though before my brother found me and he says, “Hey, Mom’s really mad, she’s looking for you, apparently we have to go. Oh yeah, and the park is looking for you.” I’m like, “What do you mean? I checked in, it’s only like 4 o’clock!” I wanted to stay with Lee, but with the omen of my mother and the park looking for me, I didn’t know what else to do. I looked at him and just as easily as I had met him I said goodbye, and told him I had to go. He nodded, not knowing what to say and I went with my brother back to where our stuff was.

My mom was upset, yelling, screaming, scolding me, calling me names, insults and the usual for one of her rants. I only half listened, apologizing, feeling like I was no longer Cinderella at the ball with her prince on her arm. No, I was back in the cottage, the maid, the housekeeper, with nothing but my rats to keep me company.

But then from out the corner of my eye I see him. He’s just a few feet away from our beach chairs, and he sits down in a chair and just stares at me. My eyes catch his and I don’t turn my gaze. Of course, my mother eventually tells me to look at her, and so I do, and when I look back, Lee is gone. I’m disappointed, but I’m wondering what is going to happen. I half heartedly explain that we did come to check in, and that there was nothing wrong. Then I look towards the wave pool . . . our area was overlooking the wave pool, there were ropes, and about a 5ft. drop on the other side of our area that went directly into the wave pool. Lee is standing in the wave pool, at the “balcony” you could say, and once again he’s staring at me. My mother is still yelling, but this time, I’m looking in her direction, but just passed her, at Lee. My eyes don’t go anywhere, they are fixed on him. She stops talking, and says we need to wait for Dad to come back. He does, and he says that the person who can call the park off me is the person who went there in the first place, my mom. So, she tells me to stay put and goes with my Dad. Also, by this time, my Dad says he needs to go look for my brother who has not returned yet either. So off they go, and I am told to stay put.

As soon as she’s far enough,  Lee climbs over the balcony and sits down on the beach chair next to me. I tell him frantically to go away and leave me alone. Just let me handle this. He refuses to leave! Says that he wants to tell my mom that we did check in, and that he wasn’t going to let her talk to me like that. I told him no, begged him to leave, just don’t get involved with her. Of course, he wouldn’t leave, and soon after he decides to stay, Sarah shows up, and she starts burying herself in the sand.

My mom and dad and brother all return, and my mom glares at Lee and asks me who this is. I tell her it’s Lee and Sarah, and then Lee pipes up and tells her his side of the story, and she backs down and says, “Well that’s nice, but regardless, we have to be leaving now.” I’m upset, we have to go already, it’s only 4:30pm! Lee is equally disappointed. I put my towel on, and I’m choking back tears. I slip on my sandals, my mom grabs the bags and she and my dad and brother start walking towards the changing rooms. I stand up and Lee comes and sits on the edge of the beach chair and grabs my hand. I look down at him and say goodbye, and he winks at me.  I contemplate kissing him on the cheek, but refrain. My hand lets go of his and I start following my family. He stands up along with Sarah, and I pause one last time, “Just go home with them.” I think in my mind, and I contemplate running back to him, but when I look back, all he does is wave, smiling, and then he goes through the bushes with Sarah.

I walk slowly, change my clothes, and continue to dinner with my family. My whole heart is crushed, but I hold it together, and wait until I’m sleeping before I cry.  We arrive home and I am semi happy, but I miss Lee, I miss him so much that I hole myself up in my room and spend all my time writing about him. I wrote about all the things he did that proves he loves me. I wrote about everything we did that day, down to the last details. I cried every night for a year.

I had dreams about him, I could still hear his voice in my head. One night, I imagined I was in his house, in his room, and I could always fall asleep better when I imagined him right next to me. Some days were better than others, some days I could feel him strongly, while other days not at all. Some days he would talk to me, and tell me things about our future, other days we would just pretend to hold each other. It was always harder when I told myself that it was just a fantasy, he wasn’t really there, I was just fooling myself. Then my heart felt like it would physically tear in two. I arranged a collaboration of songs that were dedicated to us, and I prayed of course that we would meet again.

A couple years later I had twisted dreams about a funeral, and in my mind I knew that we would only meet in death. I still thought about him everyday, nothing at home had changed. I had a bully who played worse pranks on me in grade 8, and then I had kids calling me depressed, suicidal, psychobitch, etc in grade 9. I was again in and out of counselors offices, them asking me what was wrong, and me, never telling them.

I would never tell them my secret. I knew they would tell me it was puppy dog love, and nothing for them to be worried about. I knew they would be willing to help me get over him, but that none would be willing to help me find him.

But then I had a dream that he had lukemia. I saw him in the hospital one night, bald, in a hospital gown, and looking directly at me. Then some people passed in front of me, and when I saw him again he was going back into a room. I told myself it wasn’t true, he didn’t have leukemia, it was all a lie.  But some nights when I tried to go to him, he was in a hospital bed. I kept telling myself he would get better.

Then sometime in grade 10 I wrote in my diary that he was dead. I was doing it as a way of forgetting him, and trying to move on. Things got better for a little while, I had a boyfriend for a little while, which I already wrote about. Nobody could replace Lee though. There was one time with Ryan though where it felt like it did when I was with Lee. I didn’t understand why until much later though.

Years passed, I still wrote about my fantasies of Lee in my diary, convincing myself that he was still alive, probably just moved on. I knew that he had a girlfriend named Jessica at one point, and that if I ever went there I would end up meeting Jessica and it would all be pointless.

At 18 I decided to finally just move on and leave it at that. I put all my diaries away and forgot about Lee. I started dating, which was interesting, nobody really special, but people to fill time in.  I ended up moving jobs, and hence, I decided to move out as well. I ended up finding a shared accommodations for cheap in St. James. It wasn’t bad, the owner was Mike.

Mike and I became friends fast, and I told him about Lee. I had no closure, no confirmation and didn’t know if I should commit to someone if I could possibly still be with him. I was so worried about cheating on someone I had never really been with in the first place. So Michael said he would try to find Lee for me. And he did. Well, not him, but his family, where he lived in the UK, Castleford, and he got a phone number. I called, and found his sister Sarah. She was very surprised to hear from me, and she told me after this that she would prefer we don’t talk again. Confused, I asked where her brother was, and she said, “Well, when you met he had Leukemia, and he was just trying to be normal. You came along and he could never stop talking about you, for 2 years, he always told me if I ever get to talk to Ilyana again, I’m supposed to tell her that he’s thinking about her. I didn’t think you’d ever find us again and always told him you were just a silly girl and that you had moved on. I guess, you didn’t. Either way, he died in 1999, and you’re too late. I just thought you’d like to know that at least in my opinion, I think he was in love with you.”

She hung up after that, and I just sat stunned. I cried, and remembered the diary entries and everything I had written about him, about us.

It took awhile, but Michael and I ended up getting closer, and began dating. He asked me to marry him and I said yes. Told my parents, whose only response was, “Okay, come get the rest of your stuff.”

So I did, and in there were my diaries. I decided one day to take a little trip down memory lane. It was painful, but in the same year Lee died, I wrote about it, and in the same year that happened, I wrote about how Lee was not my soulmate, that I would meet another named Michael who I would marry.

There were other things, we’d live in a blue house, on a busy street, a field would be across the street, we’d have a daughter with brown hair and blue eyes with a 4 letter name, and we’d have white roses and lilacs at our wedding . . .

All of that came true, some was true when I read the diaries, and then when I had my wedding I assumed my bridesmaid would bring red roses despite instructions. Instead she brought no flowers, and we had to go through the neighborhood to find flowers.

All we found were white roses and lilacs.

Then, when I had my first child, and she had brown eyes, I assumed, that the predictions I had made had been altered, or changed. But I recently had my second daughter, Jade, who had brown hair and blue eyes.

There was only one thing that struck me as a little odd about Michael, maybe some of the past that transferred into the future. We were thinking about names for our first daughter Sapphyre, and we needed a middle name. I had suggested Oriana, and he said he didn’t like it very much. Then he looks at me and says, “How about Ilyana?” I gave him a puzzled look and asked him why that name.  “I don’t know, I just like it.” I never told him that when I met Lee, I told him my name was Ilyana, I guess, it just popped up . . . .

And well needless to say, we’ve been pretty happy ever since.

Blessings,

Rhiannon

Place-Bonding

Published under Druidism on January 12, 2008

The Second installment of assignments from the course I am taking with the New Order of Druids. For their website please see www.druidcircle.net. It’s a great site and a good community, and you’ll like it there.

Place-Bonding

Spend at least a week with this practice, “Place-Bonding”. Write a reflection (3-5 pages, double spaced) on your experience. (The exercise they are talking about involves an interaction with nature, including feeling and becoming.)

Place-Bonding

This place is cold, despite the warm sun shining now upon the land. I stand firmly in the ground, listening to the beat of the land. It’s like the pounding of the heart, beat after beat, and as I listen to this thump thump thump, I can feel as though my feet are growing roots into the ground. Fear seizes me as I feel unable to move; my body is like the strong trunk of a tree, and my arms the only reach into the sky above. I fear now the onslaught of winter, sans leaves and small branches I am but nothing to the wind that will rip through my limbs, and tatter at my bark. I am powerless against this father winter spirit, the only protection being the brothers that surround me, and with one but lying frozen to the stream and another that have but cracked at the seams, I am powerless to believe, that standing here within this place, that I am infallible to the extremes. Something comforting comes my way, a sort of knowing, a familiar sense of self comes now. I am taken back to the times on the playground, my hands frozen by the snow, and my mittens wet. I release each of my five fingers into the center of the glove and make a fist. The tree now shows me that its spirit relies on the roots, the warm underneath the ground, and that in winter, the tree does withdraw from the cold, after the alarming onslaught of the first snowfall and the first whipping winds from the first blizzard, the tree does withdraw itself into the hearth wood, and there finds warmth and peace and solitude away from the cold. The snow does melt but slowly into the ground, and the trickle of cool sweet water reaches the roots, and this sweetness is like hot chocolate on a cold winter day, after feeling the burning sting of the wind, and the stickiness of wet snow covered jeans on the skin. The tree now feels close to this end, feels the coming of the winter chill and so inside of itself does it go, until the time when spring will come and small buds will bloom upon the limbs, and new branches will form the houses for leaves, and the tree will reach out to the world around, and bask in the glory of the hot sun.

The rush of hot water streams out into the pool in front of me. While physically it’s a bathtub, my mind sees only a gushing stream into a pool of water below. Outside the water would be ice cold to the touch of skin, but here within the fantasy world, it’s warm, even hot and soothing. I slip in, and duck all but my face under the water. All I can hear is the high pitch scream of the plumbing system in the house. It’s distracting, and comforting, if this were the coast off Ireland I’d almost say it sounded like a siren. My mind wanders in and out of meditation here, careful not to fall asleep. The water soothes my aching muscles to relaxation, and allows the energy built up from channeling to disperse. I can feel myself becoming liquid, being part of the water. My body is like jello floating in the pool, my limbs become weak and I feel as though I am changing shape to fit that of the tub. My head still shows me pictures of lakes and rivers and ponds, some of which have algae sticking to it, and others of which have swift currents rushing through them. I switch from being the water to being held within the water, and feel myself rising up out of the tub. It feels as though I have shed my skin into the pool below, energy and dirt. I can feel my pulse within my body, the warm water having forced me to feel the blood pumping through my veins. I cover with a towel and return to the coolness of the home.

The wind is ruthless, the trees shake, angry fingers at the sky. And the people, hunch their shoulders, pull their collars over their ears and run by. The wind whips my face, solidly, spewing with it chunks of snow and ice. They hit my face and dance upon my cheek before they trickle down, down down, until they form a single drop of water, drip, into the ground below. I still feel it, the burning wind upon my face, and when I take a moment, I feel the rushing sensitivity of the wind, the uncommon gusting, and the beating of its force against the earth. Nothing is seen from here, wind feels by touch, by force, by air forming and pressing around sharp physical objects. Tough the tree, be sent into spirals of branches upwards, unsure of where to go next, shaking branches down, and finally escaping through tree tops. Wind has little direction but that far away direction from whence it comes. From north or south or east or west, from mountain top or ocean or lake or river or stream, from warm or cold, from wet or dry, carrying precipitation or simply brush. The wind sweeps across fields and lands, and underneath do forest fires or floods do occur. From this, I travel with the wind, hours upon hours of travel, and never any rest, never any stops, the wind continues on, where ever it will blow.

Slowly the first spark is lit, the fire comes alive. It is volatile, uncontrolled, and growing. A flame shoots out from the top, the fire wishes to spread, alight all around it that is not wet. Below the fire, the fuel does rage, twisting and burning, feeling the heat and pyre from the fire, it allows this crackling burning to occur. But within, the sensitivity of a child, the fire feels as though it has no choice, no other option, it was meant for this work, and once stopped it too will stop. The fire is hard to feel, keep away, the flame is but my own, and I will guide it on my own, cannot accept outside help for it will throw chaos into the mix, and then the fire will be little but bliss. Within, without, connected to, the fire does provide a sense of strong energy, pulling together the lost pieces of soul, and putting one into a state of knowingness unknown. The fire spawns visions, spawns dreams, spawns the very means for enlightenment, and this, does answer many questions help deep within my soul, along with digging up everything that I am. The fire is enlightenment, the fire is strong, peaceful grace, the fire speaks volumes about our race. But soon the energy in the fire becomes too much, the fire turns to smoke and dust, having left shards from where it burned, the fire will soon return.

The sacred and spiritual found within the wildness of the natural elements, earth, water, air and fire as my experiences are described here do actually speak volumes to me. When connected to the Earth, I felt a strong connection to the root chakra, I felt assimilation with my inner child, and came to know just how much I miss the freedom one is allowed when they duck between the trees. Personally, I would not call this a sacred experience; however, it is in duality with the land that one can find a form of enlightenment, feeling their soul freed from the constraints put upon it by society, and seeing the world as a child has its own form of enlightenment for children simply experience without analyzing the experience. During the parts where I was the tree, all I could feel was the need to shrink away from the outside world and withdraw into the inner world. I wanted to become invisible so that I would not feel the harshness of the world around. I think it is true that once father winter and the snow comes, the only sacredness is within the snow, it is as though an underworld awakens and we are submitted to that.

The experience within water, spiritually made me feel relaxed and almost intoxicated. I wanted to sleep more than anything at that time, wanted to dream, wanted to explore the other worlds. I felt that through the water my astral body could slip into another parallel or astral realm and I could begin to perceive those things not of this world. I found water to be a positive escape into the depths of the spirit and soul, allowing one to explore the shadow self, the worlds below, and the other worlds the soul has left on its journey. The parts where I was the water, I felt as though my soul could touch everything in the universe simultaneously, and that through the liquid forms my limbs were limp, I had no control of form and no ability to shape myself into form. I became a formless mirror of the bathtub the water was held within.

This similar feelings of formlessness came with the feeling I got when I was air, I could not choose where I would travel and as an air molecule I would simply follow the currents, kind of like following the tides, and where the air was guided to go it would go. I remember swirling around randomly, and felt the true chaos of the world around me. I felt as though nothing had rhythm, and yet it did. I felt as though nothing in the air had structure, but it did, it took longer to learn that there was in fact beauty in the cacophony, and it reminded me of the song we sung in choir in grade 12, it’s a Bach song called Come Sweet Death, and it begins with the choir singing in harmony, “Come, Sweet Death, Come Soothing Rest, Come and lead me homeward.” The rest of the verses are sung by the choir in harmony, “I am, weary of life and longing, come and save me from thee, come now and set me free. My eyes at last are slowly closing now. Come blessed rest.” Then a single soprano begins to sing the first verse. While she is singing, the others in the choir, begin to sing the same verse, they begin not in cannon, but whenever they feel it is right. Many, soprano, alto, tenor and bass start singing not in harmony but in a cacophonic mess that sounds simply like random noise. All continue to sing the first verse until they reach the last word, homeward. Then they node their heads to the ground, and continue humming the last note. The last to begin, finish their verses, and all are humming in harmony. This is the type of sacredness I feel with the wind, it is as though it moves from cacophonic to harmonic and back over and over again, until the wind is simply too quiet to feel, too subtle to hear or feel. These are on days when there is apparently no wind, it is like, a huge symphony, and that in itself relates back to the oran mor, the song of the universe and therefore the air and wind itself experiencing it fully is a sacred experience.

The fire was the last I chose to explore, and as I have many times in the past explored fire, this time while feeling the fire, I felt the need for explosion, and I felt the need to keep control of myself. I felt as though there was instability and potential within me that I could not properly express within the fire. I felt the heat and the felt the crackling, and felt as though expression even in the most minute forms was both sacred and spiritual, but controlled. It is harder to explain, but when the flame is first lit it is simply there, and it is enlightenment itself. Created by the elements of earth, sustained by the element of air and smited by the element of water, the fire is the physical embodiment of awen, inspiration, enlightenment and spiritual being. Even a small amount of fire can contain the largest amount of awen. This is why it is controlled because when fire becomes larger and uncontrolled, the awen dissipates and is consumed by it. I am talking however of forest fires. The awen wishes to cleanse the land and somehow becomes an enemy. In controlled atmospheres though the fire has the strongest of spiritual messages. When I connect to it and it to me, I tend to find my own flame and my own source of fire, and it begins to speak volumes to me, telling me of my past my future, my being, my soul, my purpose. I feel within the fire that I cannot help but see the truth of the universe around me, as though both the beginning and the end was created by the fire, and being here in physical form is like speaking to creation itself. Therefore, of all spiritual experiences the one I feel with the fire is the strongest and most prominent.

Blessings,

Rhiannon