Underworld Journey: Dreams We Inherit

Sweet Ma did not confirm or deny. "Keep the rest of your group ignorant of your activities," she cautioned.

Cautionary warnings before the dive into an underworld journey which would require the participants to talk to a gatekeeper and know which encounters with those in other realms to avoid entirely, I thought again of Mom’s guidance, don’t say either way and certainly don’t EVER put it in writing. Why these thoughts kept emerging before the final days’ work at the animas intensive, kept rising to the top of old emotion was a bit unclear—a kind of waking dream for sure and no doubt there was a poignant message making its way in.

Annam had surprised the group with a visit from just down the road, had been invited by Sage who was running this journey group, strange how this smaller part of Oregon was becoming some kind of hub for spiritual explorationists, there of course was the river, the woods, the many and varied birds and possibly some underground energy fields that worked as some grounding portal or powerful magnet to this particular geographic pocket.

This morning quite bright and early, she again entered the side-door of the grandiose yurt, with a smile so wide and bright and holy one almost felt too small to look directly at her countenance. She began talking about the I and the I AM in all and was adept at reading people just by glancing at them, mine again had everything to do with a small self-esteem and persistent doubt.

She looked at Gene, a very tall man whose skinny knees had over the years began buckling under his 260 pound weight, mostly a girth-world-center of its own pressed into black concert shirts, he being a sound and merch guy standing behind many main-brand, metal bands and had told the group yesterday afternoon in circle, tears streaming down his cheeks, that he was sober so many years and hosted impromptu AA meetings backstage for guitarist who’d had enough of the bottle-tipping, rock and roll ups and downs they’d vehemently represented all of those tours.

“You Gene are a conduit for a deeper intelligence and will bring the WORD by being awake. You shall be facilitated by the divine force of nature and the light within.”

She delivered her gift with sparks in her eyes,

“No longer will you mismanage your core beingness,”

she directed at him before sliding out the back door and gliding away down the wooded trail.

I don't know what that is supposed to mean, but yes! Hell yes!

Gene exclaimed taking a bite of his now lumped in almond milk, cold oatmeal, a proper vegetarian breakfast.

Half an hour went by in what seemed less than two minutes as the four of them, including their spiritual guide for the course, gushed over the brightness and wisdom of Annam and her generous spiritual gifts and readings, really even though she wasn’t a planned guest at the event, she’d soon proven to be integral, if not the spirit who’d re-knitted the underworld group together.

We cleaned up the dishes had a few minutes for bathroom and gathering our daypacks, water-bottles and journals before circling up again in the bright living center of the yurt.

“Well, we are scheduled to go on solitary walk with the challenge of convening and communicating with the inanimate this morning, but because our group is so small and Annam only lives a mile or two down the road, I’d like to propose we go to hers for a visit, what do you say?” Sage hopefully asked.

There was no question we all wanted to go and that we were drawn to her light the way moths are to flame. Once in the car, winding through yellowed leafed trees, I again heard Mom’s voice, “Keep the rest of your group ignorant of your activities,” she warned.

TIMER WENT OFF :/ Weekend freewrite with @marianewest

Photo Credit: Greg Lippert/unsplash