A Collection of Random Musings

You would know the secret of death. But how shall you find it unless you seek it in the heart of life? The owl whose night-bound eyes are blind unto the day cannot unveil the mystery of light. If you would indeed behold the spirit of death, open your heart wide unto the body of life. For life and death are one, even as the river and the sea are one.

In the depth of your hopes and desires lies your silent knowledge of the beyond; And like seeds dreaming beneath the snow your heart dreams of spring. Trust the dreams, for in them is hidden the gate to eternity.

For what is it to die but to stand naked in the wind and to melt into the sun? And what is it to cease breathing, but to free the breath from its restless tides, that it may rise and expand and seek God unencumbered?

So I don’t know if anyone has ever done any past life regression sessions, but I have done a few. I’ve always been curious about what lies beyond the door of our consciousness and PLR seems to be an effective method of at least attempting to see beyond the veil. I find it a fitting topic as we approach the end of the Celtic Year. in the first and most vivid PLR session I had I found myself in Northern France around the 1500s. I was a young woman engaged to marry a young farmhand. I can remember the minutest details--my clothing, the stone cottage I lived in, the sheep I tended to on a daily basis. One day my betrothed left home to find wealth so he and I would want for nothing after we married, but he never returned. I remember days stretching into years and the deep aching loneliness awaiting his return. Sadly, he never returned, but I continued my work at the cottage and raised vegetables and animals to sell at the market at a town near the sea, a few miles’ journey from home. One day, as I brought my food to the town for sale, I was told that the town would soon be inundated with flood water from the sea. I joined a group of townsfolk who were building a dam of trees and rocks and mud. As we were bringing these items to continue fortification, the dam broke and all the water destroyed the town. I was among the drowned. 

Interestingly enough, a near drowning incident that occurred while I was in the military brought about a spontaneous PLR event within me. I had dreams of floating in murky water for weeks after it occurred. Other PLR memories weren’t as vivid-- I was a boy (around 12) wandering about in the frosty mountains, looking for family but I froze before finding them; I was a priestess in the forest, wearing white robes, leading a religious rite; I was a tailor in Germany in the 1800s who was shot to death in the town square by an unknown assailant; I was an herbalist (witch) in the early centuries in England gathering herbs for my trade with two people who are currently my daughter and mother; and the last one I recall I was a mother of an infant (current son) in 17th century Virginia. 

With all these experiences I assumed that they were past lives and maybe they still are, but lately I’ve been doing work on my family’s ancestral tree and found out some extraordinary things. I have an ancestor that was in the north of France in the 1500s; I have ancestors that lived in northern Virginia during the 17th century. Then, oddly enough, I read about Vikings who abandoned their children to the frost and mountains when they were too ill to keep up with the village (I have Viking lineage). So I began to wonder if maybe I was accessing the Akashic Records. 

The Veil is Getting Thinner 

“...And not unlike the mist have I been 

In the stillness of the night I have walked in your streets, and my spirit has entered your houses

And your heartbeats were in my heart, and your breath was upon my face, and I knew you all

Ay, I knew your joy and pain, and in your sleep your dreams were my dreams 

And often times I was among you a lake among the mountains...”

(K Gibran)

I love autumn. It is my favorite season. The equinoxes are always a time of balance, but in autumn the veil between worlds thins, the wheel turns, the nights grow longer, and inevitably death stretches its skinny arms across the vegetation, causing it to wither. Though with the arrival of winter the landscape grows stark, autumn’s version of death is colorful, vibrant, and oh so windy. Autumn is the earth’s last attempt at fecundity and she performs beautifully. 

Finding the stillness and balance that autumn calls for can be difficult in this hectic world. In autumn, when I feel overwhelmed by emotions I find myself calling upon the wind to help ease my mind. Raphael is the archangel of the air and one of the archangels of the four winds. He helps with clearing away the past and preparing for the new. In conjuring the wind, one receives help getting rid of depression, apathy, and even bad luck. 

CONJURING SPELL 

Ri na cruinne, King of the elements, I am feeling burdened and overwhelmed due to (insert reason here) and request you send me a sign of change. Allow me to recognize the scent of change in the air; as a sign, please send me a gentle breeze or a blustery wind to blow away the sadness and confinement I feel. So mote it be. 

Blessed Full Moon