December 22, 2021
The beings in the Imaginal are bemused by us humans. To them, we seem so hyperactive, so driven. We are accustomed to living in time and thus are always mindful that our time is limited. This tends to make us frantic, compelled to accomplish as much as possible before it’s too late. The non-humans in the Imaginal have no such compunction to get as much done as quickly as possible. There is no time there and consequently they don’t feel rushed to do anything. They find our mania peculiar because they know there is no reason to rush. There is all the time in the world.
Today, I was back at the shadowy crossroads, the same place I was yesterday when I took leave of the man I’d been ‘helping.’ I felt the same despair that I felt yesterday as well. It’s a despair based on being overwhelmed. The darkness of humanity’s ‘negative karma’ is daunting. There is so much to work through. So much suffering, so much hurt, so much wrong to be redressed. It feels insurmountable.
As I stood there at the crossroads, feeling despair wash over me, I heard the jingle of a harness. I looked up to find a soft, white glow approaching from down the road. The place was shadowed and dimly lit by moonlight which made the figure seem all the more brilliant as they approached. When they came around the corner and the mount stopped before me, I saw a beautiful stag with an elven rider astride. The elf and stag glowed white, almost too bright to look upon. The elf was angelic and androgynous. I was reminded of the ostensibly male characters in some anime movies, those ‘men’ who are both male and female. I realized that this impression of the elf was mine own projection upon ‘him’ - they could appear pretty much however I imagined them to be. Right now, they were male. At another time, they could easily be female. Gender didn’t matter, just like appearance.
I understood the legends about being ‘abducted’ into the land of faerie from European folklore. These forays were invariably dangerous for humans. Time passes differently there and the hapless humans who happened to spend but an evening with the elves returned to discover years had passed. Also, the elves were capricious and operated under a different code of morality than humans did. This could result in unforeseen consequences.
The land of faerie isn’t a place, of course. And time really does pass differently there. However, the ‘elves’ aren’t dangerous or capricious. They love the humans they invite to their home, recognizing us as their brethren. We all spring from the same source, all share the same divinity. This doesn’t mean we are the same, of course. There appear to be any number of different ‘races’ of beings in the Imaginal, many of whom are shaped by the cultural and religious background of the humans visiting the realm. Where I might perceive an elf, someone else could see an angel. My lineage is European and therefore I see them the way I do. Like I said, appearances are meaningless apart from conveying the light of the Divine in its many-formed splendor.
The elf was very open with me. He (I’ll refer to him as he because he mostly appeared that way to me) invited me up into the saddle and settled me before him. There was an easy intimacy between us, I could feel his love and affection for me as well as his curiosity. He was amused by my drive to make change and, over and over, encouraged me to rest and relax. “There is no time here. You can relax. You are safe. You don’t need to do anything. There is nowhere to go, nothing to do, nothing to make happen.”
I found it difficult to listen to him. Like the rest of humanity, I’m infected with the need to accomplish. It’s a drive born of desperation. Even though my experiences in the Imaginal are geared toward accomplishing something. I didn’t do a very good job of relaxing, no matter how much he encouraged me to do so.
He was very eloquent, answering all of my questions willingly as he guided his steed into a primeval forest limned with silver. A magnificent moon shone overhead, filtering through the branches. There were sparkling pools and a multitude of gentle lights. Many others were present with us but this elf had only me in his mind. His mission wasn’t ominous; he was just trying to get me to relax and rest.
He was permissive, allowing me complete access to him and his body. There wasn’t anything expressly sexual about our interaction but sexuality wasn’t omitted, it just wasn’t the focus. Mostly, he just wanted to allow me to do whatever I wanted with him. His presence and physicality was a reminder of the simultaneous impermanence and eternity of the Imaginal. After all, he wasn’t really male, wasn’t really an elf, wasn’t really anywhere. And yet he was. To my rational mind, it’s a lot to take in but I find I am resisting less as my excursions into the Imaginal accumulate.
Toward the end of the meditation, I acquiesced to his urging and began to relax. Even so, I didn’t relax much, nor did I feel very rested. I feel like I need more time in the ‘land of faerie’ for it to really sink in.
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