September 12, 2021

 The theme of recovery and redemption continues.

Today, I first found myself in a deep, green forest. I had just been listening to the radio and there an interview with Robin Wall Kimmerer so it’s not surprising that I found myself there. The experience was brief; one of being surrounded by all of the spirits of the forest and gradually being drawn to a bright campfire, discovering as I approached that the light came not so much from the fire as the beings around it. They were the ancestors of the first people, the ones we call Native Americans. And they welcomed me despite the fact that I am a colonizer and a defiler of the Earth. There was an acknowledgement of these facts but also a recognition of the importance of my being there. There is a divine cycle that takes place when the soul of a living person visits the spirit world, both the human world and the spirit world are renewed and there is an exchange of energy that is cleansing.


I didn’t dwell there long because there was unfinished business from yesterday’s meditation (see entry above.) If you recall, only one soul was freed during that exchange; there were countless others who remained stuck. It was their time today to be freed.


If you look back at my entry on Aug 26, 2021, you’ll see I wrote about women and children who had been slain by men. At the time, the goddess spirit streaming through me freed the souls of the women and children but the men continued to be trapped in blackness, the form of a vicious black bear spirit.


Even though there was an element of timelessness to this experience (I believe I wrote something like, “How many times has this been repeated throughout history: The murder of countless innocents? It seems like there are too many to name and they are pervasive across all cultures.”), I remember also feeling like this had something to do with the Middle East or Persia or even Afghanistan. (Certainly, Afghanistan has been on mind lately as the US executed its unwise withdrawal and left the country at the mercy of the Taliban wolves.)


The day after that experience, a ‘minder’ showed up during my morning meditation. The only other time this has happened was when I found myself in what we probably call ‘hell’ and Lucifer--or one of his angels--discovered me there. At that time, Lucifer was like, “What are you doing here? I mean, it’s Ok for you to be here but you need to develop your practice if you are going to stay here.” For a couple weeks after that, Lucifer was present during my meditations, giving me a nudge whenever I became distracted.


I didn’t connect the presence of this mysterious ‘minder’ with the events of the previous meditation--discovering the grave of the innocents murdered by men so black with hatred that I knew they were beyond my reach--at the time but after today’s experience, I see that it was no accident; the whole thing was planned.


Anyway, my minder first showed up in the guise of a gay porn star I’d just watched on Twitter and the next day he appeared as a character from a Chinese anime movie. His guise was so ridiculous that I couldn’t help but get the message: Appearance is not important here; my presence is.


By the third day, he’d dropped any guise and merely appeared as a shadowy form on my left. I could feel his ‘hand’ over my left hand throughout the meditation. It was a reminder to stay focused and not get distracted. This entity seemed male, just as the entity at the mass grave had seemed female, and his gender was important, although not in a reproductive sense.


He was not human, that much was clear. I’ve mentioned before that human souls are obvious when you meet them in the Imaginal because we’re, well, we’re just so human. There is a sort of delightful messiness to us. Our souls are constantly morphing and changing, we’re all over the place. This entity was simply who he was. A pure one, probably a deity or an angel, although which one was unclear. I learned only this morning that he was most likely from the Islamic stream and that was why his form was unclear. Outward manifestation is not a big deal in Islam; God cannot be represented and neither can her emissaries.


This minder stayed with me for a couple weeks. Yesterday, he was present when I met the sould of the young man who had been involved in an act of terrorism but he stayed in the background. Today, however, it was his time to shine and he asserted himself in my meditation, gently pulling out of the encounter with the spirits of Native American ancestors and occupying my body in a form of possession that was similar the way the goddess entity possessed me when I found myself at the mass grave.


He was awesome to behold and experience, an immensely powerful being of pure blackness. He was a very commanding presence and it never occurred to me to resist him. I let him take over and possess me, leading me into a bleak hellscape that was awash with red, similar to the bloodiness that I’d experienced yesterday when I met the soul of the young man.


The appearance was of a city that had been turned into a warscape. It had been bombed and torn apart, its buildings reduced to twisted wreckage. There was a bloody moon overhead. Everything was either blood red or grey. It felt hot and hopeless, inhuman and unyielding. It was also full of twisted souls.


My role was clear: I was brought here as bait to lure the voracious, hateful souls out and bring them to me. And I make particularly tasty bait, I have to say. While my spirit minder hung back, I felt myself become a pure, shining, innocent and helpless lamb. Glowing beautiful white, plump and sleek and dripping with sweetness. It was irresistible to the twisted souls in that hellacious place. They came running like immense, black, rabid dogs, ready to tear me apart such was the potency of their hatred and their desire to do harm.


I was not afraid; I knew what was really going on.


Before any of them could sink their fangs into my tender lamb flesh, the deity took over, transforming into the magnificence of his true self. He was so much more than just an angel, so much more than just a shadow. He started out as pure black but rapidly transformed into a being of brilliant, bluish-white light. The ‘dogs’ were trapped like thralls in his brilliance and immediately recognized him for who he was. This had the effect of incinerating their feral guises of black, rabid dogs and they became men once again. Such was the power and brilliance and glory of the deity’s light that they could not remain trapped in their hatred and ignorance any longer. He called them into being, called them back to their humanity.


I became aware that this deity wasn’t just Islamic but also Judaic. I think this is because the souls of the damned weren’t all Muslim. Some were Jews. Perhaps some were Christian as well but I wasn’t aware of the deity taking a Christian form. Instead, he seemed to be both Islamic and Judaic. As an Islamic deity, he lacked specific appearance and was mostly a figure of brilliant light. As a Judaic deity, though, he still radiated the same bluish-white light but he appeared more like an angel. Not a Christian sort of angel, though.


It was then I understood that my ‘minder’ had planned this intervention (for lack of a better word) from the start. It was true when I realized that I lacked the ability to reach into the blackness of the souls of the men who had slaughtered the innocents in my August 26 entry; only he could do that. And he had been sitting with me for the past two weeks, helping to prepare my soul for this very thing. 


A human soul is needed in these types of interventions. The deities can’t always do it on their own. (I’m sure that sometimes they can, though. There are plenty of examples of angels appearing to directly to humans.) These difficult cases are special and require the cooperation of humans and angels. While I wasn’t exactly the catalyst, I was there for a specific purpose: To call the lost and tormented souls forward. I am recognizable to them. They understand that I am one of them and, even if my experiences are completely different from theirs, there is enough commonality. In some way, I ‘grease the wheels,’ making it easier for them to emerge and drop their defences, making it easier for them to be touched and impacted and ultimately transformed by the power, beauty and potency of the angelic being.


And that’s what happened. The black, rabid dogs disappeared, transforming back into human beings and then they were drawn into the deity, experiencing liberation and release. They were now shriven of their sins and could continue on their journey. Needless to say, the experience left me blown away and I am deeply touched and grateful for being invited to share in it.


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