I was pretty convinced that my wild woman would be of the earth, probably covered with some dirt, have long un-styled hair, and maybe, bit of a crazed gaze that warned the beholder that she is not to be messed with. That she is to be feared even. Western society has burned even the tamest of wild women (wise women and healers) for centuries to make sure there is no question that our psyches equate wild with dangerous. In fact I am bewildered more than anything that this archetype has survived and is coming through in our imagery at all given how long and hard mankind worked to eradicate it.
found this little six-inch Christmas tree at a dollar store, the perfect size for my small apartment. When switched on, it changes colors and is very soothing to look at. I've been practicing and broadening my telepathic abilities, and since the little tree was right in front of me on my desk one day, I decided to try connecting with it...
River: So, my sparkling little friend, is there anything you'd like to talk about?
Though I've always known in my heart that fairies are real, I never thought about creating a real relationship with them until the late 1990's. By then I'd been working with angels long enough to raise my personal vibration so it was close to the frequency level of most fae, which simplified connections and communications. And I figured that working with fairies would be a natural next step. After all, fairies have been described as taking care of nature the way angels take care of humans!
Have you been to a redwood forest? Or laid flat on your back watching the stars? Or seen a person that you’ve never met, that you are certain that you “know”? There are so many ways that people feel connected, and conversely, so many ways that we forget we are connected and tell ourselves that we are all alone.
A fire is dying to rose-colored embers in a brazier. A sound like branches being broken drifts down to us from high overhead. We cannot see the blue heron flying above us. It calls, wrapped in folds of night, and its dream touches ours.
The last sentence of my last blog almost a year ago was: “Oh, the discoveries that await!,” referring to the permanent walking labyrinth I was hoping to create the coming spring. Boy, did that turn out to be prophetic! I did create the labyrinth, last spring, and have been walking it, if not daily, regularly. It is one of my proudest creations because I was so convinced initially that I couldn’t do it.
Springs feel to me like Saturdays, where you can really relax, go with the flow, and procrastinate with zero guilt, since they are followed by Sundays. Summers are the best, but there is a lurking awareness of transience that can put a damper on things. Even though falls in Michigan are rapidly becoming another favorite of mine, they are followed by winters, which require serious preparation for psychic survival.
By Lenny Bass
For those of you have read my previous essays about the on-going conversation I’ve been having with a Spruce Tree stationed in upstate New York near the heart of the Allegheny Mountains, I am inclined to further elaborate on some of the matters that were touched upon during these — how shall we call them — “episodes” of intra-species lucidity (others might be more inclined to call them “anthropomorphized psychosis”...to which I have little defense...)