A Little BackgroundWhen I was studying hypnotherapy, the very first time my instructor induced trance, I was taken on a journey to find a guide. The guide that appeared to me told me her name was Shanticlera. She gave me a gift.In the many years since then, her name has changed several times. Or perhaps the reality of what she becomes in my life often asks to be renamed. Sometimes she is a Goddess with a name that is so private and personal that I cannot speak it aloud or write it here. Sometimes she is a guide, sometimes more like a sister, but always she is a friend. Though the names have changed, the gift has remained, safely kept in a place in my body, illuminated by my heart.The gift was a crystal sphere that I gazed into for a long time before I could see what was there. It is a startling moment to see something when you have been gazing at what you thought was nothingness for so long. Just inside the crystal sphere was another sphere, dark and subtle. It was the very faint glow of a New Moon - often called the dark moon. And at the very moment I saw it, Shanticlera whispered in my ear, "When the Moon is gone and the sky is dark, think of me. I am the richness in your soul."You will see the symbolism of a different kind of "dark moon" in the dream.Another piece of information you need to make sense of the dream I'm about t tell you, is - who is Paul?
Paul is a very real being in my inner world. He represents the energy of my Sun in Aries in my birth chart. It is an energy I have not always been comfortable with, one that I have sometimes repressed or turned away from, yet one that I have always needed to follow my path and accomplish what I need to accomplish in this life. The Sun is the energy, resonance, and vibration of the heart. Who can do soul's work if alienated from the heart?Several weeks ago I was in despair. I asked for two things:- A sign.
- For Paul to return to me, because I had lost my heart and I realized how much I needed him (it) to go on.
I needed the sign because I had worked for a year and a half, putting everything I am into Zyberspace, believing that this was my path and what spirit wanted me to do. Imagine my surprise, when, just as Zyberspace was "ready," my life took a financial plunge into uncertainty or perhaps worse: the terrible certainty of financial ruin.
Was this some sort of final test? Could I remain persistent, believing in my dreams no matter what threatened from the tightening, clutching vise-grip of reality? For months, I did. Family, friends, and loved ones counseled me that following God's will and being realistic were not mutually exclusive. "Take a job," they said, "and do Zyberspace on the side until it can support you full time." It was perfectly, rational advice. It made perfect sense. But every time I looked at the possibility of becoming a programmer again, I felt the dizziness of standing on the edge of a black hole that would pull in my very soul and crush it to nothing.
Yet fear can be a powerful motivator. When the reality hit me that I could lose my home and that I might not be able to pay any bills or even eat in a couple months, I decided maybe I didn't know myself or my destiny as well as I thought I did. Maybe everyone else was right and I was "wrong." Maybe I should get a job.
Giving myself pep talks, I polished up my resume. I created a crisp and informative portfolio of websites I had designed, and put myself forward as a ColdFusion programmer looking for employment. I was stunned - and a little shell-shocked - by how swiftly the recruiters came after me and how fast contract opportunities poured in. More confirmation. Everyone else was right. I plunged into terrible self-doubt. I was supposed to be this wonderful, psychic reader, and I couldn't even see my own path clearly?
Clearly God wanted a programmer, not the spiritual Zy I thought I had become. When an offer came in requesting an immediate interview for a position that paid a staggering amount of money, I relented. I completely surrendered. I bought some new clothes and drove to the interview.
That a week ago. Last Friday. It looked like I had a very good chance of returning to corporate America after 18 years of self-employment, and that this was the path fate was giving me. Lucrative. Safe. Secure.
But things did not turn out that way. At all.
An Allergic Reaction
Saturday, after the interview, I began to itch. I'm not talking about anything mystical, vague, or mental. I'm talking major, physical itching - the kind that makes you really believe that if you scratched yourself bloody, you'd feel much, much better.
There were no other symptoms. No rash. Just the sensation of a thousand fire ants having lunch on my mid-section, stomach, chest, neck, shoulders, and back. Benedril couldn't touch it. My doctor, puzzled by the lack of a rash, was kind enough to agree that the itching wasn't any more comfortable for the lack of supporting symptoms. He prescribed a strong antihistimine. But even after taking it, I could not sit still for more than a couple minutes. I could not sleep. My concentration was completely shot.
It was Wednesday before the rash appeared, as if my body was dutifully "catching up" by providing the symptoms to support my already raging dis-ease. I was in agony. I called the doctor again and he wanted to see me, but had no openings until Thursday (yesterday). I told him the rash looked almost exactly like German measles, but felt like poison sumac. He doubled my dose of the antihistimine but that night, despite the fact that I had hardly slept at all in four days, I could not sleep again. The pills would make me drowsy enough to fade into something fitfully resembling sleep. But I would awaken from it to the resumed agony of the fire ant march.
A very dear friend of mine did some healing energy work on me Wednesday night, and it may have turned the tide. I felt unexplainably better. Was I healing now?
By the time I went to the doctor on Thursday, the rash was hot and inflamed. The doctor took one look at it and said, "That is a drug reaction." Then he frowned, thinking hard. He knew as well as I did that we have not changed my medications for over six months. Why the sudden reaction now?
We went over my medications, targeting the one most likely to be the cause. We came up with a "weekend plan" that I would stop that medication if I didn't continue to get better. But that left the other huge question. Why was I getting better, since we had not changed anything that might have caused it? (My doctor is a very forward-thinking, open-minded human being. But I wasn't quite ready to tell him that my body had most likely performed a "reset" from the long distance Healing Touch and Reiki from my friend.)
By last evening, I was feeling much better. Exhausted, I fell into a sleep like death, and slept ten whole hours. During that sleep, I had my Full Moon dream. And Paul - bless him! - not only returned to me, but he brought the asked-for "sign" with him and held me while I viewed it.
The Dream
I am walking with Paul, out under a midnight sky, on a very dark night. The sky is star-filled and beautiful. I do not see the Moon. I am talking to Paul about God and Goddess, and the vast, almost unbridgable gulf that lies between promises of perfection, enlightenment, and grace that so many various scriptures inspire - and the grinding, cold, harsh reality of human existence. I realize I am feeling hopeless. I can hear it in the tone of my voice.
Suddenly there is a hush, an abrupt flush of wind that is more like an indrawn breath than an exhale. Then: stillness and silence. Paul steps on a twig behind me then moves up close. I look back at him to see his eyes turned toward the sky.
"My God," he says. "Look at that."
In the sky, towering impossibly above and in front of us, is a beautiful flower. My mind tries to make sense of what it is seeing. "How high is it? A hundred feet?"
"Two or three hundred. Maybe more," Paul says.
Then why do I see it so clearly?, I wonder. But I realize I don't SEE it clearly at all. I just know it's there. And in that knowing, details emerge. The flower has at least six petals. Red, though I can't see the color - only shades of gray exist in my eyes' night vision. But I know it is red. It has six or more stamens, stretched out like fingers, vibrating with wild anticipation.
Paul moves closer, puts his arms around me. "It's a sign," he says.
I can hardly breathe. The night has taken on a mystical quality of Presence that is as palpable as water, as subtle as fog, as clear as crystal, as alive as Nature herself, and as dark and cold as the deepest ocean current.
That's when I notice the Moon, Full and totally eclipsed, forming a perfect orb around the stretching anthers of the flower. My mind is still reeling. What are the chances, I think, of winding up here in this exact spot, to see that flower, an unknown distance away, framed by that perfect eclipse - just SO ?!
Paul's arms tighten around me. I know he can hear my thoughts and that he is telling my mind to be still. To accept. To wait and to watch.
Simultaneously, the anthers at the tips of the stamens ignite into shocking flares of intense red light. They wave and vibrate, dancing like rockets on a launch pad after the engines roar, but before the huge machines begin their inexorable upward climb. There is no sound, but the air is electrostatic, awake. My mind, though it is asking fewer questions, still observes with disbelief the tiny stem that reaches hundreds of feet up into the night sky. The sheer physics of it are impossible. Several hundred feet? Such a thin and delicate stem? And what if I had taken one step further, or one less, would I have seen the flower at all? It is only the perfect frame of the eclipsed Moon that permits me the vision I have.
Now I can't breathe at all. My chest closes upon itself, squeezed by emotion. A thing that cannot be, IS. And the entire universe pauses, waiting for one small event to unfold. Nothing is more important in the mind of God or the heart of Goddess than this one small thing.
I am crying. Tears flood down my cheeks. The flower vibrates as if raising an invisible cone of power, impossible to measure, impossible to deny. The pulsating anthers all release their flaming spores simultaneously. The spores become comets in the night sky, each with a destination perfectly known and defined, though unknown to me. Some will touch the surface of the planet on which I am standing, and some will navigate unknown, nameless distances of space and time, to land on planets elsewhere, each in its own time. Each perfectly assured, as the entire universe will see to it that it is so.
Thank goodness Paul is holding me. I have no strength left to stand. Yet I am breathing again - huge, long breaths as big as forever, waves in ever-expanding wavelength, touching all, as still in infinity as in the instant before motion began. And in all of this, I find perfection and marvel at it.
My tears have washed me clean.
The flower is me.
So What Really Happened?
I thank the powers that made me that my body is so responsive to spirit that I am able to manifest a fully physical, allergic reaction to not following my soul's path. Six months from now, as reality presses on, will I still feel the same?
Stay tuned! I'll let you know.
Afterthoughts
I've been strong all day, rested, at peace. The rash is receding. The itching is still there, but bearable, and I forgot to take my antihistimine twice. I took it an hour or so later each time, but you get the picture. The point is ...
I'm back!
In January, I began a new journal, dedicated to making my dreams come true. I opened it earlier tonight and saw that I had not written in it for 33 days. Though I somehow continued to channel the daily Oracles and Path Predictions, my soul was slowly abandoning its dreams and its ability to manifest them. Doubt can pry open even the most secure of doors, and once it does, that's all the opening Fear needs to take a spiritually sound life and turn it into chaos.
If there is one thing I could leave you with as we embark upon the Road of Understanding in this Pisces Lunation Cycle, it is this:
If spirit gives you a dream,
believe in it
no matter how practical or necessary
it may seem to you
to abandon it.
Never let it go.
Not ever.
Hold on to it.
Let it become your lifeline,
your sustenance,
the air that you breathe.
The reason you were born,
the reason you live,
the exact and perfect reason
you are
YOU
And, by the way - a month from now, the next Full Moon occurs on a lunar eclipse! I wonder where I'll be on my journey then? Where we'll all be ... together.
Love and Blessings,
Zy