The Gathering 001

Where the curly haired man from the tanga demonstrates what is at my back. The magnitude of what supports us.  By giving a lesson about the tangible interconnectivity of the World. The curly haired man shows how his heart is tethered to everything. How to move the organic fabric of the world and open portals by a subtle weaving of the lines that connect everything to every other thing. How this can be used to travel through time and space via a process of birthing inwards and outwards. This is the first demonstration of how a stick gets changed into a staff. It is the opening of a circle, which demonstrates the motivational place of the gathering. Where it is birthed from, its formulation. It is the beginning part of an introduction as to reason why I am sitting here writing this, and why I have shared with you. How to bear and wear.

The fat grey haired man and the man from the tanga stand up. I am shocked at how attentive and present they are.

They both have their staff. I have brought mine. The fire is in the centre of us. We are in mother whale country, where the land is pregnant with dreaming, pregnant with love. The dry dust is around us, and now a bit of a cool wind.

Me, the Curly haired man from the tanga, and the grey haired man, are the first 3 at the gathering.

The three of us stand at the fire with the wide open sky surrounding us. I become aware of something at my back, a warming presence of okness. It has a fullness like a wall. It is the real existence of that place. A light and love that fills every gap with its nurturing presence.

I look at the big grey man, he brings such an honour of silence. It is a real gravitas that comes with his size. His immovable solid weighty presence.

I look at the curly haired man from the tanga, he was the first ancestor to arrive at the gathering. He came with an urgency and love that was unparalleled, an always lasting love and heart.

I speak now and say, "Man of such heart, and man of such size. Thank you for coming." I throw 2 handfuls of incense on the fire.

Two fairy's fly in over my head and perch on the ground to my right. To the fairies I give an acorn.

The two fairy's come as one. They stand seemingly held by the acorn, I think they are shocked to be noticed and acknowledged. They are having a big conversation with themselves and the acorn. It is like they haven't seen me or where the acorn came from. It's like it came out of nowhere. They are in a world of their own. I see a little green hat on one, it is difficult to make out any other defining characteristics.

The large grey man and the curly haired man are very different. Yet there is something the same about them, a love that feels warm and joyful. A combined purpose and comradery.

The curly haired man from the tanga was first to join the circle so he is first to share. He shares that he got here so quickly by stirring up joy. He shows me how he does this now by circling the top of his stick round and round with a lot of joy. He does this in a  horizontal circle while keeping the bottom still on the floor. The stick both gathers and distributes this loving joy as it moves round and round. Seemably both picking up everything. It is like a miniature etheric merry go round. As it turns the air around it dances, sounds, and sparkles. There is a sea of swirling beings that I can see through this merry go round. It looks like a tornado. I can feel its traction in the air. There is a sensation, a pleasure like an orgasm of giving birth, a portal has been opened.

The curly haired man from the tanga is a magic man. He generates that magic through his heart. He has connected his heart to his staff by the imperceptible dance of his body. He shows how the moving of his heart creates ripples extending out into his limbs and down into his stick. The stick, his staff, is no longer a simple stick, it has become part of his heart, it is one with it.

The magic man has become so connected to everything by the swirling of his heart stick, that the air is solid around him. He pulls on the solid air with his stick and it moves like liquid. It at once has the traction of being solid and the movability of being liquid. A sort of pliability.

The love that extended from the heart of the curly haired man as he shared his joy by circling his staff has reached out and made all these connections. Many strings. As the swing of his staff went in a circle it made connections in all directions, every direction, every connection in existence. The full sweep of his heart. Finally it dawns on me, he is all ways here. He is connected to the wonder full.

This is how the curly haired man from the tanga demonstrated how supportive air can be. The interconnectivity of all things, and how air can be the strongest of immovable rock. This is how he has shown me his support, what stands at my back as I look into the circle.

I start to cry at the beauty of it, the magnitude of the supportive gift he brings. I bow my head and fall, kneeling to the ground.

By doing this I dislodge it. The gift of what was at my back is too big for me to bear. The beauty of it has made me feel ashamed. The emotional content is a shock to manage. However, I know that if I am to go on and stand as part of this gathering, I shall have to bear seeing this beauty, and after seeing it how could I do anything else. How could I live with simply bowing out, not stepping up to the plate, not daring to wear my heart on my sleeve. I shall stand, and withstand the whole. Hear my call.