Yes, is the answer to your pre-sojourn question of, “Are you nuts?” The reason you are asking this question is because we told you that we drove some 250 miles to visit a turf maze. Now, that has to be a record even for us? Soon to be broken however when I visit Easter Island. Another story…
The sun had yet to make a decent appearance when we arrived at the Maze around 9:30 am. I was shocked when I saw it. What had I expected. A maze of course. However this wasn’t the kind of maze I had in mind. In fact I immediately proposed a new rule to Chris…
Should the place we are going be representative of this then I want to know about it and the ability to veto it.
With that said I proceeded to check out the energies of the maze and its suitability to do some work in. It was! In fact it was highly suitable! I asked whether there was a need to prepare and the answer was no. I then asked to be taken to the place where I could work. With no errors I was taken directly to the center of the maze (following a path). I sat in the center and contemplated the various aspects of my energetic and indeed normal life.
Of course I say normal with a huge dose of salt. It seems that my sacred activities have overridden my normal life to the extent that normal is in no way normal anymore.
One of the lessons that I am being taught by the universe is patience. In every aspect, corner, nook and cranny of my life this lesson continues to be played out. Again and again I am given lessons in patience. Fortunately thus far, my lack of patience in these scenarios hasn’t caused me to lose that which I should be patient for.
Caileach, that Goddess with a captivating smile had informed me that I would not lose out on if I wasn’t patient. But I would feel pain and suffering if I didn’t practice it. Sure enough I am feeling pain!
Sat here at the center of the maze, my thoughts drifted to all the scenarios in which I had and am attempting to practice patience. Then from deep within the Earth a voice said… We’re not trying to teach you patience.
What! I threw a mental array of scenarios at this voice and challenged it to explain what it meant. Surely all of these were successful and failed attempts at patience. Yes, they are and yet still, we are not trying to teach you patience.
Clearly, there was some serious discrepancy between todays message and messages that I had been getting over the last few outings. What was going on? I directed this last question to the ether. There was no response. Grrrr!
No good would come of getting riled and indeed, it would violate my mission of patience…do you note the cynicism in my voice? Deep breaths where in order and so I took a couple of moments to stabilise mind, body and soul. My eyes closed, I saw before me a huge wheel. At first I thought that I was looking down on the maze from on-high but the image wasn’t of the maze and nor was the wheel on the ground. It towered before me. Imagine a ferris wheel that stood as tall as them Empire State building and then some. That was what this wheel conveyed. It was staggering. As my attention was caught by the detail, I saw a man trying to push (turn) the wheel. He had no chance, not unless he was some Herculean. The vision panned in closer and I saw that the man was me.
I was trying to push the wheel. It was impossible. I recall telling Chris afterwards that I swapped positions with myself in the image and felt the futility of my literal pushing as well as my vision of the task.
The vision changed and I wasn’t pushing the wheel anymore but inside it. This time I wasn’t pushing but trying to feel for the momentum of the wheel. There was none, although I knew that it was moving. That movement was so imperceptible.
As I swapped senses from being inside the wheel to outside and watching I realised that the same lesson was being given again, this time in a visual sense. You can’t push the wheel, you are in it. The futility of trying was brought home in a stark way. Everything has its time and place. Will I ever learn that lesson?
As my attention and focus wandered in and out, I realised that there were intricate carvings on the wheel. Not only on it, but on the rim also and indeed on the inside of the rim too. It seemed to be made of wood, but the carvings were so deep, colourful and imbued with hmmm life, that perhaps it was the wood that was the illusion.
This imagery added a new dimension to my efforts, my impatience. I was trying to push the wheel of life. Again, an impossible task. The lesson or lessons were not finished there.
As I continued to observe these images, the wheel seemed to rotate slightly, this came as a surprise to me since its movements were completely imperceptible. Then I realised that it wasn’t moving it was falling, ever so gently upon me. There was no danger apparent (come on guys, this is a vision). However, like a feather, it fell and it must have shrunk too, though I didn’t sense that at the time. It fell and slowly came to rest on the ground as an overlay to the maze I was sat at the center of.
The paths of the maze merged with the carvings of the wheel and that depth-filled voice returned. We’re not teaching you patience. I got you the first time around, I sent out the thought with a dose of whatever. It seemed to me that patience was indeed the message of the moment.
I watched the paths of the maze continue to merge with images and I got the sense of a labyrinth forming. Shifting and changing, in its birthing stages. What did this new vision mean? Paths of life came an intuitive answer. The twisting labyrinth of life? Never solid, ever-changing? Was this what the vision was showing? If so, why? We’re not teaching you to be patient?
Finally, I paid some serious attention to the voice. Okay, I thought, if not patience, what then could this teaching be? I felt that an answer might lie in this new vision before me. Was this relevant? I wanted to get up and consult the rods, however I remained seated. Give me an answer. Then a thought arose from my intuition.
Signs! A while ago I was told to learn how to read signs. Of course, these days, I’m pretty good at seeing and detecting signs, but what they meant is often lost on me. Now, at this moment, looking at the swearling patterns in the maze, as if the colours from the wheel were gently pouring into the paths of the labyrinth. The thought became solid. You’re teaching me to read signs? It was a rhetorical statement. I knew it was the answer.
Rising from my seat with this new insight I performed a gratitude ceremony and walked away. As I did so another question occurred to me. Who is this “We” that is teaching me?