With the hybrid loaded to the gills, we (the Roshini-Dakini and I) headed out ~ away from our mountain hideaway, still buried in towers of snow, leaving behind pristine clarity and the stillness that only the Tao of New Snow can engender. In my head, Vangelis' Antarctica was playing... clean clear notes that summon the frosty chill of zero vibe and crystalline experience.
With the heart tugging a bit for the mystical valley of our sequestered time, we set out ~ Eastward this time, and South, across the varying expanses of desert - the sanctuary of snow soon a memory as the temperatures rose with our passing.
As we traversed the Eastern Sierra, on our way to... where exactly? Perhaps the moon? The energies became ever more dense... and soon, as we crossed the first of several deserts, the chimeras of the inner worlds became visible to the physical eyes. Not the sun dogs one might hope for, nor whirling rainbows nor the Spirit Kachinas dancing on the arroyos. These striations of light were, while beautiful, an intricate dance of inter-dimensional flux. "The whole area is morphing" I said to Roshini. "mmph" she agreed from the back seat. The continual morphing felt horrible, nauseating to say the least. We fueled up and were on our way as quickly as possible, Roshini refusing to eat even her favorite treats.
As we entered the Mojave, things shifted again, not so radically but as though the desert itself was rolling like the sea. The closer we came to
Arizona, the late afternoon sun became our ally, lighting up the sagebrush and red rocks to advantage. Just as we found the 'only' rest stop not closed, the moon began to rise. Rising in front of us like a lazy beacon, it brought with it the wind. Standing in the wind in the desert. Familiar and blessed.
I began to weep with gratitude. The energies are shifting... and it is good. It is good. In the middle of 'nowhere' ~ having forgotten that there are literally no 'stops' from 'here' to 'there'... we found our first piece of the home that has eluded my physical experience for osme years now. Wind, Lightness, the feeling of being carried in mystical journeying. Mmmmmm.
As we traveled further and further across the Mojave, the waxing moon rose before us, it's frothy 'growing' edge gleaming ever more clearly, brighter as the sun began it's descent in the sky. Peace. Stillness. Power.
As something less like luck would have it, I miscalculated the drive time and we ended up driving an hour or so in the dark into the mountains again. More snow, tall, old growth Ponderosa pines, and a familiar chill in the air once more.
On the road again in the morning, we debated. Grand Canyon or Sedona? "NEITHER!" said my body, and at that moment, a large raven flew directly across the hood of the car, quite close to the windshield, headed 'on down the road'. Okay! Off we go. For many years now, ravens and crows have been my physical guides when traveling. Even in local areas, if I am unsure as to direction, they provide the intuitive guidance needed for me to find my way. This was no exception.
As we headed out of the pines and into a higher, more pristine desert, I began to see signs for 'Winslow'. What is it about that?... Starman! The crater is somewhere nearby! Within a minute and a half, a sign appeared "meteor crater - right turn ahead". ;) It was early enough that we were the only vehicle on the 6-mile winding road that leads out into the desert and into a vibration so pure, so crystalline and otherwordly, it made me want to set up camp. We spent an hour or so, just basking in the energies, wandering around doing woofy sniffing things, me going inside and sitting in the sun on the observation deck, just 'wondering' in awestruck familiarity.
Again - the crystalline purity of 'home'. Mystical journey. A thought occurred... notable for the lack of mental traffic for the past hour or so. When did my physical life CEASE being a mystical journey? The when being less important than the acknowledgement of what had been missing.
Grinning from ear to ear, we got back in the car, wistful again at 'leaving' yet absorbed in the flow once more.
Grounding happens within us, within our heartspaces, our souls. We are and always will be, galactic travelers. To forget that is to lose one's sense of 'home'.
May Every Blessing Find You as you journey onward,
Mary
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