~A Mermaid's Tale~
~A Wyld Sea Witch surrendering to the Ninth Wave of the Goddess ~Archive for power animal
Feral
This is my power animal, a white wolf, and one who you will occasionally read of here, though she will never reveal her name to you..She guides and protects me at all times, treat her wisely and greet her with respect and she will sit a while and watch you with eyes of deep wisdom as you read my pages.
Scorn her at your peril…she does not suffer fools..nor does she need to, she is not of your world.
She guides me constantly , and protects me fiercely, never more so than through my creative and spiritual journey, which started a long time ago.
I write for the first time here of the year, 1992 , the year my journey began when the stripping away of my psyche and my personal world took place. Material spiritual, geographical…. In healing my self and learning, much serendipity was energised and activated. I awakened to healing more, knowing more and new abilities of sight inherited, though my heart and mind were always open.
I learned the why and how..
So many came and taught and helped me. As I reflect back, I nod in thanks to them.. and see also the ones who are there now.
I met a Tohunga who told me many things, a meeting I will not forget, as much of what he prophesied is now coming to pass.
He warned me about the new age and what it would demand, and amongst other things, he showed contempt for those who made false claims, who built false dreams and promises.
As other indigenous people do so, he worked to protect the secrets of the earth, to ground the energies and much else besides.
Not long after that I took my first Shamanic journey along with a shamanic healer. She, my wolf came to me then, along with another power animal, who chooses secrecy.
I have worked with it, and others ever since.
But she, my wolf, is my primary source and works closely with another, of another clan.
She has introduced me to much wisdom and magnified the truths of the wild and saved my life.
She has shown me lately other members of her pack. It is to honor her and the wild that I write.
I do so with great humility and respect for the sources I draw from, for I know only too well how much they are plundered, stolen and appropriated by those who are false… and show great lack of humility and gratitude for what is given openly and freely and from the heart.
The way of the spiritual warrior is true in nature, and has no posturing nor arrogance, nor fakery.
What is the Wild?
It is what we are loosing , a little bit of each day, and what very few have true knowledge of, some who do, visit these pages.
I welcome them.
It is the space between the here and now and the morphic resonance in between, it is timeless, rich in deep infinity and has no essence of time, it is what we must fight to protect as it will save us, it is what taught us, before we knew how to learn. It is the guttural cry at injustice and the howl of a wolf in winter.
It is what danced in the caves and lit up the shadows, it is the hand print in paint upon the wall, it is the deer running there in an outline, it is the rhythm of a frame drum and the bloody stench of birthing and the sigh of death.
It is the innate power, the instinctual knowing, the animistic joy, the passion, the sharpness of wonder, it is lust and poetry and laughter, it is the touch of a mans hand and the rake of a bears claw, it is the wailing and grief at the death of a loved one, whose hand is held as she slips away too young.
It is honor and loyalty and a raw love of truth. It is the knowing and the instinct of the seer. It is the backbone of a mans honor.
It is the green in the flash of an eye watching in the shadows. It is the storm of thunder and the kiss of snow, the dazzling bright white of lightning on water.
It is the bark of a known tree, and the sap of a young one newly met.
It is the new moon in all her phases, and the sun in all his stations. It is the guidance of the stars, and planets to those who follow.
It is floating naked, on the sea in the deep dark and looking UP at the wheeling, reeling, motion of the bright jeweled stars above.
It is my spiritual home , it is what teaches me, a wanderer, free spirit, much traveled, witch , cunning woman , hedge witch , wisdom seeker, writer, carer, healer, activist, womanist, herb gatherer, herb grower, food grower, …wisdom seeker..seer..
Looking at the world, the earth, the wild, through the shamanic lens. As a result, learning through wiser eyes how to help her..and protect her.
fe·ral (fîr‘əl, fĕr‘-)
adj.
-
- Existing in a wild or untamed state.
- Having returned to an untamed state from domestication.
- Of or suggestive of a wild animal; savage: a feral grin.
[From Latin fera, wild animal, from ferus, wild.]
Creative Process.
Writing accesses memory, creative writing demands that of you.
Maybe that is why I get nostalgic and start looking at songs and connections. You find yourself writing something fictional, but your memories get wakened up and demand attention.
Its like walking around in several moments in time, you recall the sensations, the sights, the sounds the smells the feelings. Sometimes its not pleasant, you know the road there is familiar and you would rather not go down it, but your mind shows you it again, there is something you might have missed the first time. A fork in the road ahead ,a black crow hovering.
Shape shifting through the moments and sifting the best parts to the top.
It is time travel in essence, accessing the unconscious and all aspects of the self. Sometimes I think of a character and she will appear in front of me and I describe her. I know her flaws and her back story , I may not even like her as I have said here before, but she is part of the structure of the story and will not go till I acknowledge her.
Is she a part of me, or someone I have known..who knows, it feels like an exploration of a foreign territory at times. I have the guidelines and I know the language, but it is all so unfamiliar. The universe is made of stories, there are the ones we know and love, the heroes journey is the blueprint of most mythologies, as well as the many creation stories, which all have familiar themes and life lessons that resonate with us.
Fairy stories are better uncensored a subject that is much discussed, how children need to have the core meanings in stories, even if to us they may seem brutal.. My favorite was Hansel and Gretal..
Triumph over adversity, injustice, and the underdog, the outsider, we all identify with them and are engaged, a deep need is answered.
Who am I trying to kid thinking I can add to this? But the need in me is to write, and I am being encouraged to do so more and more. Some wonderful people, including writers, have come to this site and have encouraged me to keep going and complimented my writing .
This has been a flood of light during a very fraught and difficult time. Without the support of some dear friends, some met through blogging here, I am not sure I could have kept going and kept writing and blogging.
Knowing you are followed everywhere on the internet by someone who is delusional, is not pleasant. Even opening up blog here, and a link set up to a song posting on my other blog. It never ceases to amaze me just how people will blatantly copy and appropriate your tastes and ideas, and laughable when you think about and know more about this individual.
I would rather not do so now, I have said my piece. I told some home truths because those involved would not listen. Maybe now they will take a good long look.
But I doubt it.
The story , My idea, my project, continues and at times I have no idea where its coming from. But it asks to be written, so I make my feeble attempts and sit down and scribble away and wish I could swallow a thesaurus along with a copy of the elements of style and be better at its actual construction.It is my creative journey and one I have signed up for many times.
I am working on a wolf post just now, it was a poem, so I thought, but its not birthing that way too well.
Sometimes just writing about the process helps me to get into the space to write, I circle the woods and ask the muse to come forward, to get a little closer.
Domestic demands have been overwhelming, my mother ill again, and my writing times were limited, but things are getting better now, she is on the mend, so I hope to knuckle down again.
My wolf saved me the other day, a wisdom came to me and I listened to the wyld and I knew.
