This is the fifth and penultimate part (you’ll be pleased to hear, I’m sure) of the Spring Equinox posts concerning our day out in Cumbria. Following on almost immediately from our visit to St Catherine’s Well we wandered down to the banks of the River Esk. We had originally gone in search of one of the several waterfalls in the area, but time was getting on and the recent fine weather would have meant that the falls would be a mere trickle, so we decided to return to the beautiful spot we had passed on our way up the river, and to see what would happen if we meditated there instead. It was still a water element, and it might even be a powerful one. So it turned out to be!
Kal and I sat on opposite banks of the river. I had chosen a precarious perch that was calling to me, and which had a natural seat which let my legs dangle high over the river’s flowing cold water. For several minutes I simply absorbed the surrounding sounds before I felt myself begin to blend with them. My aura had loosened itself from my usual tight grip and was naturally expanding and relaxing from its usual tight circular form and melting into the landscape. I let it. This usually signalled the beginning of something wonderful.
The sounds of birdsong, sheep, trees and flowing water filled the space between my ears and my breathing returned out to join the natural sounds of the early Spring song. I gathered some of my energies from inside myself and began to work them into a swirling pillar of twining strands that flowed up and down, into the earth and up beyond it. Soon the energy pillar settled into a central place around me and I knew I was centred and energised. I put up a slight protective field around me so that I could work undisturbed. This was, after all, a public pathway and there’s no telling what is around you when you commune.
I ventured a question into the depths of my inner silence. “Had I already found my task for the Spring Equinox season?” In the intimate silence of those moments a voice began to emerge in response to the descending and fading question that had been thrust out alone into the void. The voice had certain characteristics of my own vocal sound, but the content was not mine. The voice tinkled like a stream, dove in and around on itself like tumbling water, and held an innate wash of emotion that swept along with its content: “No, you have not yet been tasked.” “Do you have a name?”, I ventured. It did, and it was a name that evoked childhood memories and playfulness, and it made me smile broadly. I tried not to laugh at the name, the I reached into my pocket. It was time for a trade.
I settled back into the depth of the trance to continue my questioning, letting the babbling brook beat out a constant stream of tippling tones. In my hand I cradled an egg-shaped stone that I had found on my travels through Wiltshire, and which held memories of my journey following ley lines and visiting sacred sites in southern counties of England. I offered a trade of this memory-laden stone in return for some information about my next quest. The response was a pleased murmur of consent which rippled in my stomach and which made the invisible threads of my energy perception quiver and waver. Good.
Now the questions received instant answers. I asked whether my recent energy healing work for Japan had been purposeful, and the response was that “Along with the 100,000 other people’s wishes, your energies will all counteract the negative energies of those traumatised by the earthquake and tsunami.” I was both chastened and gladdened by that response. Some good was done, but it felt like I should overestimate the near in-consequentiality of my work.
Next I asked this water spirit of the Esk if she could tell me the next part of my year’s quest, and in way of an answer she showed began to form a picture in the darkened cinema screen of my inner mind. I was an animation of a hand cupping the flower of a plant (a yellow flower, possibly a daffodil) and by placing the hand under the flower the flower grew to several times its original size and with much stronger qualities such as colour and shape. The inference was clear to me – I would need to learn how to promote the growth of plants. I asked the water spirit to confirm my interpretation, which she did.
I wanted to know a little more about this task. I asked if she was indicating that I should learn how to promote growth in plants through the development of energetic powers – she said it was exactly that. I would have to undergo some form of energetic change in order to learn how to do this. Quite what that change would entail I didn’t feel as though I could enquire at this stage. I had only just had the task revealed, and I wanted to let it sink in before I did more work to reveal the nature of the quest and what I would need to do.
I said my thanks to the helpful spirit, wished her well, and in an act of love and appreciation I came back to full consciousness and threw the egg-shaped stone into one of the deeper parts of the river where it went to join the turquoise colour of the Esk’s clear waters.
In fact, I wouldn’t have too long to wait to find out some more details. For the rest of the day the idea was at the forefront of my thoughts, and as Kal and I moved to the next few sites the opportunity arose for me to ask some more questions and find out more about this quest. In the final visit of the day I would find out more about how I could achieve those powers.