As a child, she was
surprised and wounded by the first rock that struck her. But she
picked it up and put it in her pocket, and contemplated it later.
As the years passed,
the rocks became more frequent and her collection grew. She was no
longer surprised by them, but still dreaded each one. Her collection
grew into a little wall that she could shelter behind when she needed
it.
Over time, her wall
grew into cottage where she could go for safety, a place to breathe
and just be.
Decades passed and
the rocks sometimes became less frequent, but were often larger. Her
cottage began to take on the aspects of a Manor. There was not just
room for herself there, but offer safety and comfort for those she
loved as well.
By the time she was
old, she had created a Castle. Within its walls she could provide
shelter, compassion, and safety for any who required healing. The
giant stone fireplace contained a roaring fire where she could tell
stories and share wisdom. Children play in the gardens of that
castle, and it is a rare stone that makes it over the wall.
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Worlds and stories
and songs, the strata of all that we have been and all that we
believed of ourselves layered and overlapping. Pangaea, Laurasia,
Gondwana, Panthalassa. Primeval forests teeming with life. Vast
plains of flora and fauna competing, breeding and dying.
Dark World below
Blue World below Yellow World below White World. Shambala, Eden,
floodplains and mountain valleys. Deep caves with ashes from
countless fires and energetic shapes dancing across the walls in
their flickering light.
Vast kingdoms
spreading across plateaus, blood soaked battlegrounds and rivers
running red with blood. Troy, Ur, Atlantis, Pompeii, Alexandria,
Timbuktu, Giza, Babylon, Teotihuacan, Cairo, Carthage.
Each layer covers
the one below, and yet those beneath are sometimes incorporated into
those above. A pyramid pierces them all, thrusting up into today,
still reaching towards the sun. Some things are lost, and some things
break out at unexpected times and places.
The strata of all
that has come before sits below the plane of now.
And the World Tree,
in whose shadow and branches and roots we make our way, has a taproot
that extends down through every layer.