Chapter 7

“I knew it!” the girls cried out, “sit down and tell us more.”
The Shaman elected to stand but came in close and took energetic command of the group. He started to recount the tale of the ancient mystery of the land.
“The land speaks to my heart and in silence told me that, many, many generations before the church was built, the land was once an island in the middle of a river. It was connected to the ocean by tides long ago when the waters of the Earth were much higher. It held a special magical significance to the druid priests of the time, as a magical bridge appeared at very low tides. You can think of the island as the human equivalent of an elephants’ graveyard. Only the greatest kings, queens and shamans of immense spiritual power knew how to find it and were given the honour to have their final days in this hallowed sanctuary. It was tended to by an elect coven of priestesses who presided over the grove, and they in turn were protected by the Druids.
This was in the days when life was more innocent and spirit was great in the hearts of the people. All respected this place and none dared disturb the sanctuary, such was the connected magic in those days. Then the great cataclysm came and the waters withdrew, civilisations came and went and eventually knowledge of the sanctuary was slowly forgotten as the Druids and priestesses finally vanished from the land.
With the Druids gone the memories faded and wave after wave of settlers came and went. Until a church was built by St James, the last holy knight from the sacred order of the chosen one. St James had the church built from a vision he received on his travels in the East. He was the last great knight who held the balance of the sacred flame in his heart.
“Then came the industrial revolution when the river was diverted draining the water so it was no longer an island. And that pretty much brings us up to what we now see today. There are many fantastic prophecies regarding this land.”
“Such as?” The Priestess echoed the sentiment of the group.
“One will come marked by the moon and the power of his voice will open a portal between worlds that many will pass through.”
The girls and the Shaman found themselves looking at the silver streak in his hair. In turn he looked at them and said, “Let me introduce the Shaman.”

***

“He teaches energy exercises to harness inner silence and power. I think you might be interested.”
“We most certainly would,” said the girls, “he’s our teacher too! He’s been teaching us how to collect personal power. That’s how we came to meet you on the night of the storm.”
“Ah it’s all making sense now,” he replied.
The Shaman made a move to go but before he left he spoke, “The next shamanic practice is tomorrow at dawn at the lightning-struck oak. All are welcome.”
He gave them a most mischievous knowing look, “Now if you’ll excuse me.”
“One moment,” the girls said making a spur of the moment decision. He motioned them to follow and they all silently got up as one and left. The door bell chimed and they departed.

***

“You certainly know some interesting people,” the Priestess said.
“Honestly my life was never like this before The Book.”
“I’d love to get a copy but something tells me I’d not be able to find one. Look after it. Looks like you’ve got the only copy.”
“Actually I wrote out what I could from memory when I thought it was lost. Here, take a look. I’m starting to think that perhaps The Book wanted me to do this.” He passed over his notebook with his copy from memory, sketches of the symbol, stained glass window and description of his dream.
“I’ve added some of my own notes. More coffee?”
She nodded and took the notebook and patiently read through the section describing his figure of eight dream with the key and the door. He returned with the drinks and allowed her to finish reading in silence.
“This is a soul lesson,” she eventually said as if coming out of a trance, “the woman represents your soul and you’re only partially listening to her at the moment. By going to the lower room you can fix old emotional wounds. It would seem just the act of looking or acknowledging the wound is enough to heal it. Perhaps you’ve done this already, or perhaps the time is right for you to try. Who knows, she may then tell you to open the door with that exact same key.”
He suddenly felt very serious and melancholic.
“I’d not thought of it like that. I’m sure you’re right though. I can feel my mood change so I know you’re onto something. I wonder what those wounds are?”
“Well if there’s anything I can do to help, I feel like we’re a bit of a team right now. I’m here for you.” She touched him lightly on his hand.
He looked out over the pond with the ducks and swans, something clicked inside and tears involuntarily started to flow. A memory of a perfect love from another time; two swans, eternity, intense lose. The tears ran and ran as the rain started to clatter against the window pane.

***

“Wow where did that come from,” he said after a time.
“Do you believe in past lives?”
“I’m not sure, before I’d have said no but recently it’s as if a veil has started to lift, showing memories of who I really am. It’s like a tapestry with many facets coming into focus and I can sense deeper memories than I’d previously been aware of. This dream tells me that something similar maybe happening to you too.”
“I know exactly what you mean,” she replied.
“I think the rhythms and melodies are unlocking something within for us both. How can music do that? so unexpected.”
“It’s also the land, the people, and this moment in time too, and it would seem, the placement of the stars,” she concluded.
“Talking of the heavens I’m sure I remember something interesting coming up soon,” he opened the moon diary and turned to the current waning moon page.
“The next major planetary alignment is here, a new moon and a solar eclipse.” He pointed to the following symbols:
“Wait a second,” she said “Look at this in your notebook”. She flicked over a few pages and showed him the sketch he’d made of the stained glass window featuring the woman holding a key in one hand and a moon and a cross in the other.
“What do you make of that?”
“I see what you mean” he replied, looking at the sketch. “What if that circle is not the moon as we’d previously thought but the sun?”
“Yes and look, the crescent moon is there.” she pointed at the sketch, “And the cross isn’t the Christian cross that we’d also assumed but part of the sign for Jupiter, just like here in the moon diary. Just how old are planetary symbols?”
“You’re right, the way the moon and the cross touch is very specific, and also most irregular. You know I think you’ve got it!” he said excitedly, “the stained glass window is indicating a specific planetary moment in time, an alignment.”
“A woman holds the key,” he looked at her with an increased sense of mystery and intrigue.
“There’s going to be another moon activation at the Lady Chapel at St James the Apostle on the new moon eclipse when Jupiter is in alignment,” she said hardly able to contain her excitement.
“Wow and only we know.”
“And I think we are the only ones meant to know,” she finished.

***

“Now the question is, what activates the door?”
“How exciting. Perhaps its not been opened for a thousand years!”
“Ok so we’ve followed our intuition and the signs so far,” he said, “we’ve unlocked the first moon window with the man holding the lightning and crystal which revealed the hidden door.”
“Dangerous that lightning,” she remarked looking at the white streak in his hair.
“There’s danger to this game for sure,” he agreed, “but what is at stake is nothing less than to transcend the fear of death once and for all. That’s pretty epic if you ask me.”
“St James and his disciples must have been great men and women,” she mused.
“Well it’s just a question of what to do on the eclipse then,” he pondered.
“My intuition says it should involve lots of people.”
“Yes, following The Book’s advice to share, yes that makes sense,” he said, “I know, I’ve got it. We should have a concert at the church.”
“Yes! that’s the one,” she knew it was right.

***

“Ok so the Reverend has suggested to me twice now that the church would be available for a concert,” he said.
“Well that’s perfect.”
“I’m going to contact him and see if the eclipse date is free. And I could do another busking session to help spread the word.”
“I’d like to come along,” she said enthusiastically.
“Of course.”
“Great. If I’m going to sing in the church it’d be good to have some practice.”
“Well what are you doing at the weekend? That should be a busy time in town.”
“I’ll make sure I’m free,” she said.
What a refreshing response he thought, it makes such a difference when people are enthusiastic. It makes things so easy.
“It feels like we’ve been here all afternoon.”
“Yes, time to go.”
They left the cafe and walked together heading in the direction of his house. Arriving outside they both knew it was time to part and she bade him farewell.

What a day he thought. So much has happened; the busking, the Shaman, The Book mystery and now a concert in the church on the eclipse lining up. It was all going on and he hadn’t missed work, or been short of money, he reflected. He could never have guessed the turn of events since he made that choice not to go into work. It hadn’t been easy as he’d felt so bad for not keeping his word, but now he could see that he made the choice he needed at the time, when he was ready. He paid the price, but importantly he hadn’t given up on his chosen path. It was time for a rest now before seeing the Shaman tomorrow at dawn.

***

He woke a long time before dawn, he could feel it. Rolling over to go to sleep again he inadvertently saw the time 4:44am. The next thought that came to mind was, why not really go for it. Seize the day, have a cold shower, put on some fresh coffee and then you’ll be really ready for the dawn. But the bed was so warm and he knew that sleep was waiting for him just moments away. He could literally choose either way. Well, if he was going to do it, he may as well really go for it. He responded to his intuitions calling, sprang out of bed and headed for the shower. Seize the day. One pot of coffee later and sleep was the last thing on his mind. He opened the windows and could already hear the dawn chorus. He’d forgotten just how beautiful it was. He made up his mind that if he had to do something in the future, it was best to really throw himself into it. It just made things so much easier on himself, he could see that now.

He sat down with The Book and turned to the next page. It read:

‘Ignite a fire that’s the game
It’s not a fire without a flame
Without small wood no flame to catch
No effort wasted strike a match
Even if none can see
Flames are effortless’

Remembering the font that the high Priestess had mentioned previously he checked and sure enough the second letter was different. He got out his notebook and wrote out the new page from memory and added the new letter to the collection:

A W E O R T G

Still it made no sense. A light breeze blew into the room and reminded him that dawn was on its way. Grabbing his notebook, moon diary and coat he headed out the door to meet the Shaman and the others underneath the lighting-struck oak. It looked to be a clear day with not a cloud in the sky.

***

He arrived at the same time as the Shaman and could see the girls across the park would be with them shortly. The Shaman waited in silence for everyone to arrive. Once gathered he moved his body deliberately to face the horizon where the sun was due to rise then moved into the same strange posture as before. They all copied in silence. Together they stood, each aware of their own inner world. They consciously released mounting tension moment by moment as the sun’s glow approached over the horizon. There was a deep sense of peacefulness which aided their ability to concentrate and relax.
As the edge of the sun touched the horizon they each experienced an exquisite rush of energy that felt like a golden elixir of light surging through their bodies as the majesty of the sun’s presence transmitted its awesome life giving essence.
He found he could use his mind to direct this golden elixir around his body. Everywhere it went felt wonderful. It seemed to make a home inside of him deep in his belly. It was a new feeling and holding the posture now, was not only effortless, but also energising. He was so glad he’d had that cold shower, it helped in getting the best out of the experience; he was most definitely awake. As the sun’s body finally rose above the horizon, the Shaman released the posture and held his belly in the light of the majestic dawn.

***

He’d never experienced the wonder and power of the Sun like that, it was awe-inspiring. He knew it was the fundamental key to all life and spiritual reality. He also understood that the golden elixir inside his body was the sun. A further realisation was that lightning was the spirit of the Sun being transmitted to Earth, the same elixir that was now in his belly. He understood how his own efforts had opened the door to receiving this living energy. The act of making an effort attracted the higher power. He wanted to give a name to this new understanding, of how to harness the power of lightning. Lightning theory he thought, yes he liked the sound of that.

It was clear that The Book was made by someone who had been on the same journey to this spiritual Sun. They’d left these tokens to act as inspiration and guidance to those who felt drawn. Seeds scattered freely into the world. The act of the higher reaching out to the lower was as necessary as the lower reaching up to the higher. Effort, but effort in the right direction. It was then he realised just how magical The Book really was. How does one make a magical book? The power of the moon had a strong part in this. The marrying of the spiritual Sun and the mystical Moon, just like on an eclipse he thought.

***

The eclipse, of course. A meeting point, a transmission, when the roots that grow in the dark are nurtured by the Sun in all its glory. That great power is transmitted. The alignment is a conduit for life, a channel. The image of the church spire sprang to his mind. Wow, the revelations flew through his mind making him feel euphoric. He looked at the others who all had beautiful expressions on their faces. He guessed they would also be receiving revelations but each according to their own nature. He could clearly see a group energy around the girls. They effortlessly held a singularity that each of them was aware of. Looking at the Shaman he saw a deep unknowable inner tranquility. The deeper the peace, the greater the insights, and he was as deep as a mountain lake. He could see the inner sun twinkling in his eyes. That was the only way anyone would have known there was anything different about him. But there most certainly was. There was an unshakeable sense of completeness to his being like one who had been through, and overcome, many inner trials.
“We must be off,” the girls announced.
The Shaman bade them farewell with a bow and said he would be in touch when the time was right. The girls departed leaving them alone.
The Shaman addressed him with a strong sense of seriousness, “there are sacred exercises to help develop your spirit body which has now been activated. Are you ready to learn?”
“I’d love to. What have I got to do?” he instinctively felt that this was a great honour to be given this opportunity, and he could feel himself want it with all his heart.
“It’ll take a good deal of determination and patience but you are ready. Every quarter moon meet here. We’ll next meet at noon.”
“Excellent, I can’t wait,” he knew that this was his moment to leave and made a small bow and headed into the glorious golden sunshine.

***

***

***

Continues in Chapter 8…