At dawn, on the edge of the lake, I am greeted by the eagle. He flies straight to me, and then banking a full turn, hails me with great wings and twisting tail. His presence is always a surprise, and a great blessing. Although very brief, it is deeply felt.
Over the past six days, in sacred sites alive with ancient energies and wisdom, I have connected with family and ancestors now long gone. After thirty years of wandering, these wings are for the homecoming and work that lays ahead.
. . . . .
Throughout history, structures great and small, churches, cathedrals, even cities have been built on points where lines of energy intersect in the earth’s mantle. Some call them Dragon Lines, Song Lines, the Matrix, the Grid. We had gathered at a chamber built on a Dragon Line in Sharon, Vermont. It is formed of stacked stones, with massive ones forming the roof. There are trees rooted and flourishing on its roof.
A massive stone shaped like a serpent head sits outside the entrance. We make offerings there to honor the sacred ground.
Imbued with the energy of Conception, the chamber is one of three along the line, the other two being Gestation and Birth. This chamber is in the form of a womb, with a narrow entrance that requires crawling in on hands and knees. The ceiling is low, and the room is dark except for the light entering the doorway.
An altar stone rests at its center.
The women enter first, gathering around the stone. They prepare the space with singing, to welcome the men into the womb. When the space is ready, the song changes, and the men enter the doorway one at a time, carrying the serpent energy. A grandmother spider, weaver of the web of creation, crawls over the shaman’s ear.
To the drum and songs, we drift into trance.
The space seems to change around us. It is no longer small and dark but has become spacious. The heavy stone roof above disappears into a night sky of starlight, like clouds above turning slowly. Then the floor seems to fade away as if we are floating in smoke. In its place is a great chasm, an entry into the womb of the earth. It rotates slowly in the opposite direction.
We begin to draw the Earth and Sky together until they meet at the stone ––
Suddenly, and without hesitation, I leap forward and seize the stone , and fall with it into the void.
. . . . .
Racing into darkness, the walls are close and sharp. As if flying, carrying the stars with me, I am protected by a brilliant spray of light from the stone, falling into Gaia, Pachamama, the Earth Mother.
For a long while there is only darkness until a point of light approaches, still far off, slowly growing larger. Bouyed by the spray of light surrounding me, I can see now it is an opening, a doorway into a vast, bright space. At last, I feel a release as I burst into a great white chasm, and trailing shards of light rain down with me all around.
And then I see the faces. Thousands, tens of thousands of ancestors are gathered in a great circle as I light on the white sands, surrounded by Love.
As the stars rain down, drums resound a great heartbeat. Deliberate steps slowly turn to swirls and sweeps as the faces spin by me and I dance a soulful prayer of Creation and Joy.
Dreaming the world as it has been dreamed since the beginning, where everything is possible, where reality itself is a dream,
I deliver the holy stone, as bright as firelight––
the sperm into the egg.
The storm of light blesses the marriage.
It is a stone, a drop, a wave into an ocean of Knowing.
Seeding the grid. Firing the torch.
Awakening the Dragon.
