Reflections on a Ritual Meditation experience
I felt the wells of energy in my being today. The root well released first; something unknown cleared away as I relaxed, as I felt safe.
I’m home now in a windstorm with autumn scented candles burning in the window. And I felt all of myself. Something released within my hips, my thighs and back. I felt a relief and relaxation wash over me, lighting something up from the tips to depths of my being.
As I gazed at the passing clouds and felt the warmth of the candles on my cheeks, everything cleared away. I felt the path of the sacral open, then the way to the solar plexus, which opened up my heart, then my voice, then my mind and – finally – my soulness. Stillness. Oneness. Quiet.
Breath on the window.
I felt the parts of my energetic system illuminate the whole of my light body, and when it did I was suddenly deeply aware of how it – I – am part of the system that makes up the whole of the body of the Goddess. What are Her energy centers? As I felt this connection, I felt too the gods of ancient ways begin to spin. They were the sephirot of Her lightbody. I felt my own light emanate brighter, like a line of communication had been formed.
Ascension is talked about as a shift in consciousness, as if anyone really knows what that actually means. States of being such as “Ascended” or “Awakened” can only be pointed to, not shared. Even when pointed to the image isn’t clear. We rely on parables, practices, pretenses, or the occasional poem. Ascension lies behind the taste of that feeling I get when I connect with Spirit, with the lightbody, with the network of spiritual beings which make up the whole of the universe: Goddess. When I sense her energy grid. When I sense her in others. Something endless is behind that unified feeling; perhaps Oneness, perhaps Source.
I suspect that the key to pulling back the curtain on the Ascension experience is creativity. So much of nature and experience is rhythmic. Like the parts of an ecosystem’s whole, all does as it shall in accordance with pattern. The ants in a line, the decay of underbrush, the seasons, the hunger of a hyena, the waves, the thorns of a bush. All is as it shall be. But the human spirit doesn’t operate exclusively in a formula. We are indeed predictable, but not entirely knowable; there’s a depth of will and desire in our hearts. We’re a species apart, one bent on doing not “as it shall,” but as it will.
This human strength has been garnered from our previous incarnations into advanced consciousness, from trees, to dolphins, orangutans, homo erectus, and homo sapien. Us. The builders. The tinkerers. The philosophers, questioners, artists, and healers. Meanwhile, the gods of ancient ways watch us; they’re curious, anxious, to see their creation gain such self awareness, hope, and willpower.
“Maybe,” they wonder, “just maybe, these souls in homo sapien’s body will show the power to create, too. Create so well they can join the next realm, the realm of creators.”