In December of 2001, I woke every morning to the pulse of a heart against my mind. After a week, a woman’s voice came gently, “Let me in. Let me in.” More and more persistent each morning, it finally insisted “LET ME IN!”
I surrendered my barriers, feeling as though a wall was falling around me, and had a vision of a woman looking at me over her left shoulder, offering the affirmation:
You are a beautiful man. Do not allow yourself to be destroyed.
In December of 2010, a solstice meditation placed me before a tree in a forest. Its roots spread and I stepped into the earth’s womb. Tokens were promised: something for the mouth, something for the pocket, and something to cradle in the hands. Taking up my gifts, I left, to be told that the fruit in my pocket was a gift from the past and the key in my mouth was strength for the future. But held in the hands was the thing I had to surrender: the woman that I could love.
I turned to the sacred tree, and offered her spirit to it, pleading “Find yourself, and return to me.”
Are you here yet?