Wednesday, February 10, 2010

Runic Apport

August here. One of my most beloved things is a set of rune stones, carved by a priestess of Wicca onto river stones from the stream in the hills behind her home in the forests of Wales. I have always had an exceptional resonance with the runes, and have developed a kind of companionship with them; they're the kind of friends who have no problem telling me like it is, yet with compassion, and often wry humour -- just my style. The last time I had the opportunity to talk with them was probably a couple weeks or so ago. They're kept in a special cloth bag that draws shut with a ribbon, sewn for me by the Welsh witch herself. The bag resides on the bottom shelf of the bedside stand, behind a closed door.

After the recent re-posting of Tim's materialization of 4 years ago, I found myself wishing it would happen again, or at the very least, something as equally weird and intensely magical. So I asked Tim, "Could you?" as I was readying myself for bed last night. "I'll see what I can do," he answered. The clock was just striking midnight.

But I couldn't fall asleep -- I was excited that something might happen and didn't want to miss it. I fidgeted and turned my pillow over and over, trying to relax and get still. But A big snow storm was also on its way, and I love such things of Nature, so I kept getting up to see if it had started. And just as I started to finally drift off, my two crazy siamese children decided to get up and continue their nightly pre-slumber game of "Thundering Herds." After ushering them out of the room and firmly shutting the door (one knows how to use doorknobs) I finally felt I could relax enough to let go and sleep. The clock was striking 1:30 am. I rearranged my pillow yet a few more times.

I must have finally drifted off, but not much later I found myself stumbling to the bathroom, although I didn't really have to use it. As I got back into bed and pulled the covers up to my chin, I reached my hands up behind my head and under my pillow to sort of cradle my head through the pillow -- kind of an odd thing I don't usually do, now that I think of it. And my hands felt something under my pillow. My first thought was wondering how McHenry managed to get one of his filthy toy mice under there - but I wasn't surprised, they're everywhere and I'm constantly stepping on them. But this wasn't furry (or wet and soggy as horribly usual) - it was flat and smooth and irregular in shape. I brought it out and turned on the light. The clock read 2:25.

The last thing I expected to see was one of the rune stones, but there it was: Dagaz, the Final Rune. Literally: Day or Dawn -- an esoteric meaning of Awakening. It can mean many things: paradoxical truth, incommunicable experience, conceptual realization, enlightenment, satori; non-dual reality, a fresh start, an awakening of the senses, or greater understanding of the totality of existence, unity, synthesis, transmutation. In a few moments I understood what it was telling me, but wasn't sure if I could believe such a breath-taking suggestion. Tim was close by, watching quietly in support, with his familiar cat-that-ate-the-canary expression.

I'm really not able to share here the exquisite intimacy of the message intended for me in this apport from Spirit, from Tim and many others. But it is sufficient to say that I got my wish for some magic, and wanted others to know that this magic is spiritually all around us, just waiting to manifest at our request.

The snow storm has arrived, in all it's white, windy glory, and I'm glad to report I managed to feed the patient mob of birds waiting for me before everything was quickly covered.

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