January 12, 2022

 Another experience similar to yesterday’s. This time, as I was meditating, a window opened in the center of my chest and, gazing inside, I beheld a hellscape. This is no metaphor - I really was looking into hell, or at least one possible hell. This version of hell looked similar to the traditional Christian view of hell: A fiery inferno of molten rock, noxious vapors and infinite suffering. Many winged demons swooped through the boiling air. It was not pleasant place being, well, being hell.


There was a winged ‘demon’ before me who, like yesterday’s gargoyle, looked pretty miserable. He wasn’t a gargoyle, though. He was more slender than the gargoyle and his leathery skin was maroon colored, not grey. The expression in his coal-black eyes was filled with pain and suffering. Even though I didn’t know what he’d done to land in hell, I felt compassion for him and reached out to wrap my arms around him. We hung in the air like that with me hugging and him enfolding me in his arms (and legs) while his leathery wings held us aloft.


As we hung suspended in the air, hugging, I felt a shift and, opening my eyes, saw that we were no longer in hell but in the middle of a beautiful forest. It was summertime and we were in a clearing. Flowers bloomed amongst the trees and the grass in the clearing was green and soft. It was very idyllic.


I noticed as well that the ‘demon’ had transformed and was now human. He appeared to be a tall, slender young man with a black beard and short, black hair and blue eyes. He was naked and his chest, butt and pubes were covered with black hair. He was handsome but, then again, most everyone is comely in the ‘higher’ realms of the Imaginal. We were still embracing and I separated, taking a look around.


In the center of the clearing was a grave. It was overgrown with grass and a gorgeous yellow lily bloomed on the top. Seeing it, the man let out a cry and went running over to it, getting down on his knees and digging into the graves with his bare hands. Soon, he was scraping out black earth to reveal the body of a large, beefy man underneath. Like the young man, he was black-haired and his body was covered with black hair. He was quite big and muscular, verging on fat. It was clear that he was a warrior of some kind.


What caught my eye was the dagger in the center of his chest. Upon seeing it, I understood what had happened. These two had had a complicated relationship, being lovers as well as probably rivals and possibly even enemies. It was clear that the young man had murdered the big man, probably clandestinely. I shivered a bit because their situation was similar in some ways to mine and Griffin’s. In our case, Griffin had murdered me and it had been a mercy killing to spare me (and him) the torment of being tortured by enemies. In their case, the young man had murdered his lover probably out of rage or spite or something which explains why he had spent time in hell as a winged demon.


Interestingly, upon being excavated by his former lover, the big man wasn’t bitter or angry. Quite the opposite! He was overjoyed to be reunited with his lover and immediately sat up and pulled the young man onto his lap and began fucking him. The young guy straddled him, wrapping his legs around his waist and sat down on his short, fat pole. Soon, they were lost in the wild abandon of anal sex.


I felt like a voyeur watching them but what choice did I have? I was, of course, glad that they had reconciled and were now reunited. I was also a little uncomfortable watching them fuck. A moment later, I turned and realized a blue angel was standing beside me. Like the green-yellow angel from a few days ago, he was robed in blue. His hair was long and blue. Even his face and eyes were blue. His hood was lowered and it was difficult to look upon him. Angels are complex beings and somehow I feel like we humans were not meant to stare at them.


He was watching the amorous couple with a wry expression on his face. He murmured something like, “Let’s give them time. They’ve earned it.” And so we stood there watching the guys have sex until they both came and the slender, young man collapsed into the big man’s arms, their bellies sticky with his cum. They lay like that for a long time, the big man rocking the smaller man back and forth in his arms.


Finally, it was time for them to be off. The angel approached them and they rose to follow him. I noticed the forest transformed in that moment, becoming the fog-enshrouded crossroads that has become such a fixture of these visits to the Imaginal. The trio left, walking down the road and out of sight.


I was left standing there for a long time, gazing up at the moon overhead. It was a quiet night and quite beautiful even if the skeletal woods surrounding the crossroads are kind of spooky. When I blinked, a woman was standing before me. She reminded me of the Woman in White because, well, she was wearing white. Everything about her was white, including her hair. This time, however, she appeared strongly indigenous, probably Native American.


She was watching me in the most unnerving manner. Her lined and wizened face was wise and her piercing eyes were even wiser. She gazed upon me, staring into me, reading my soul. She was filled with compassion.


“I want to thank you,” she said. “Your road is a difficult one and I know that you are paying a price for your work. I want you to know how much we appreciate everything you are doing.”


I bowed deeply to her, accepting her blessing. I hadn’t really thought about it but she was kind of right: This work isn’t easy. It’s hard balancing everything, my life in the human world and these journeys into the Imaginal. I feel a little like a rubberband at times, stretched between two worlds.


I replied to her, feeling touched by her representation of and aid for indigenous peoples. “You are most welcome. I am happy to help however I can. If you ever need anything from me, please do not hesitate to ask. If I can do it, I will.”


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