Wind Horse

The scene changed completely with the realisation that I was outside the mountain in broad daylight, looking down on what appeared to be a white hand basin full of water. The guide was by my left side and I was able to look directly at his face. I felt fear rising and he told me not to be afraid.

It was with even more awe that I realized by a shift of perspective the ‘basin’ was in fact a vast lake surrounded by white mountains. It shifted back and forth I looked to and from the guide, who by turns appeared to be a giant holding out his arms, cradling the lake and mountains; but at the same time he looked just like an ordinary – sized man.

If I looked at him like an ordinary-sized man the valley looked like the white basin, but if I focused on the lake I saw it in perspective, as a huge, sweeping vista.

Not long after this the guide and I were two regular-sized people standing on a flat plain in the weak sunshine penetrating the icy air. It occurred to me that the guide had showed me some the secrets of the elements and that now we were to focus on the wind. This was, after, the way I’d ‘arrived’.

Recalling the appearance of the eagle I noted that it had been exactly like wind/cloud, white and translucent. My guide performed tricks with the wind and I asked – rather hopefully – if I might see the wind horses I’d heard so much about.

Almost ridiculously quickly, a beautifully elaborate white wind horse with wings outspread appeared in the middle distance of the sky and walked around in front of us. I was disturbed, however, to find it was pulling a type of chariot and whilst the horse itself seemed not to mind this hindrance, I ardently prayed for it to be released from the yoke it was under.

After a surprisingly long time – the chariot stubbornly remained – the horse casually walked free and up into the air, where it strolled gently away on the light breeze. I saw several white wind horses on the plain then, most with opened wings.

It occurred to me that perhaps I was meant to board the chariot and I wondered why this logical notion had not occurred to me at the time. My guide looked rather disappointed in me so I assumed I failed that particular test in some way.

The vision faded shortly after all of this and I fell asleep.

Meeting of Saints and Angels

We quickly passed through the entrance and hallway of the mountain, which seemed to be well enough lit but we were moving so fast that I had no time to look out for any kind of décor or other details. However, it was clear even from fleeting glimpses that the interior of this place was awesome in the true sense of this word, appearing to be of huge proportions for one thing.

Although it was ‘natural’ – ie, of the mountain – it looked as if it had been hewn out by hand and was clearly magnificent. There were various colours on the walls, presumably from paintings.

The further into the mountain we went, the darker it became and, though we still moved very swiftly indeed, I was increasingly struck by the totally unique surroundings I’d found myself in. This helped to assuage the mounting unease I felt, because it was evident that an occasion of some import was taking place therein.

I noticed that the further we went inside, the more people there seemed to be, until we stopped at an immense cavern that was so large it did not even appear to be deep underground. There was a sombre and powerfully sanctified air.

I must have been asking questions because I was told numerous times by my guide that an assembly meeting of the saints with the angels was taking place. One can scarcely imagine this spectacle.

Filling the cavern/hall, forming a winding line hundreds strong that moved up the passage/path running around and through it, were people dressed identically who I assumed to be the Saints. Each was dressed in classic ‘hermit’ garb in dark sackcloth-type, belted, hooded robes and holding up a lantern in one hand. All had their backs to me and I saw none of their faces.

Although I was specifically told the angels were present (maybe further up towards the front of the line?) I do not recall seeing any, being totally absorbed in the sight of all these saints/hermits. The sight of the hermits’ lamps lighting the way prevented any further fear from entering my mind.

It was an awesome sight. I am not sure what the subject of the meeting was but I ascertained that those standing in line were waitig to meet some hugely powerful figure who was located out of sight at the apex of the stairs.

Circle of Shamans

I felt extremely alert, nervous in fact.

Up in the sky with the eagle all had been blue day, but here on the ground I could see it was black night and that the fire was only light visible in this entire place. I could just make out a number of men – between 5 and 9 – seated around the fire watching me intently. I took them to be tribesmen/shamans, largely because of their appearance. They seemed to be of Asian stock and were wearing woolen hats covering their ears woven of multi coloured threads.

They seemed to be dressed in a combination of wool and leather and were very watchful without seeming aggressive.

They spoke to and interacted with me (I couldn’t hear anything, I just sensed it) but seemed really quite cautious. They were not hostile but they did not smile. I experienced some doubt around this point and was suddenly aware that I’d been told not to ‘play with fire’ (bearing in mind I was pretty much standing in one) and warned especially against salamanders.

I hopped out of the fire and retreated very quickly to the edge of the camp, which I circled quite restlessly for a while. Worryingly, there was nowhere to go, the darkness was impenetrable beyond their circle and I have always been afraid of the dark.

I sat out there on the edge, on my own, for quite some time, but eventually the lack of light and concern for what might have been ‘out there’ drew me closer to the group around the fire again. It seemed there was no escape.

At that point, one of the shamans presented himself as a guide, possibly reluctantly; I’m not sure if being female helped me in this respect. Nevertheless, I was told to relax and not to fear the darkness or the situation. I had little choice but to acquiesce, this being their territory after all.

Very peculiar things then started to happen.

The camp-fire was mesmerising and I found myself continually insisting on getting into it, as if hypnotised or entranced. After indeterminate lengths of time in the fire I would then worry (quite irrationally, I suspect) about salamanders, whereupon I would somehow ‘whizz’ out of the fire at breakneck speed and jump straight into the mounds of soft snow surrounding us, as if to convince myself that I wasn’t burning up.

I did this several times at explosive speed for no reason whatsoever that I can discern. I’ve no idea ‘what’ I was doing or even what I ‘was’. The movement between fire and snow was incredibly forceful and I was totally absorbed in the elemental procedure.

At a certain point I stood looking up from the centre of the orange flame which seemed to encompass everything, and wondered whether – if the eagle had indeed been shot down – I might see a phoenix. The next time I leapt out I managed to ‘cocoon’ myself entirely in fiery/watery, spinning light.

Is this how a star is made, I wondered?

Reason leaves with the Fairy Guide

continued from The Fairy Guide…..

“We may go for a little while, but do not stray”

The whisper was like a fire in the night seen only by myself and I snapped out of the reverie I had fallen into. It seemed that consciousness had not gone the same way as my reason and I was glad, then, for the voice of this unseen third behind me.

I had remembered him (or her, it was not clear) at the onset of the journey, for he had surely made himself known in my heart. Was he, perhaps, a more faithful friend then reason, or at least a more reliable one? I recognized the wisdom of the alternative to us all going along together and, as I did, the fairy looked with deeper interest at the longing brown-haired girl, and then back at me. “Perhaps we two should go on ahead and you may follow later, if you wish?”

Although I could easily have gone along with them, this last was revealing itself as the best option. As anything is possible within reason I judged that it would probably be best to let her take the lead on this occasion, especially as she had clearly found something for which she had been looking. The fairy would soon lose interest in me if I remained passive and, with consciousness intact, I would not be likely to slip up as long as I remained vigilant.

The fairy smiled at me with those glittering eyes again and I felt a strange sensation. Inexplicably, I wanted to kiss her, and I leant towards her almost despite myself. I was so close that a silken strand of long hair, lifted by the wind, coiled around my neck and touched my bare back and I spoke quickly to cover my confusion.

“Thank you for taking care of my friend, I hope to join you both very shortly, I’m sure I will find my way to the Potter’s hearth, I’m sure it will be easy to find. Maybe I could ask someone for directions..”

The fairy was spontaneously helpful for no apparent reason. “Have no fear”, she said, “his house is well hidden, but you shall find the way without having to look. Follow your instincts, but remember to turn right; the way back here is not East of Eden.”

I was very glad of this kindness she had shown me in exchange for the companionship of my enchanted reason, which parted from my self with what I knew would soon become wanton abandon. I wondered if her preference for the elemental being was a form of betrayal or liberation.