When you start to see through time it such a remarkable thing that, first, you wonder why you didn’t do it before…then you realise that you did and always have; that its sides have been as flux as you ever allowed them to be and that all it took to dissolve them was to choose to see beyond its constraints. We think of time as strictly back to front yet really it operates in all directions to the pinpoint that is us making everything simultaneous. Suddenly to reach to the future is no different than to “remember” backwards and we get to jump sideways at will, to feel out other possibilities while still committed to this one…then to mix them up, like taking a pinch of seasoning from another dish and flavouring our own until we make it just the way we like it.
More and more, I’ve become cognizant of how what I thought of as moments of profound nostalgia were actually pinholes through time when I reached forwards into a future potential and felt what was yet to come like a tangible frequency, a handlebar to where I was heading. Its a method through which we get to meet our future selves and to tune our dial to what we might become, using the guidance of our feelings to know if what we feel up ahead is really ours since we can only feel excitement about what lies within our potential field; anything else will feel “off” in some way. Its a method that I use quite deliberately, these days, to help plug into my highest blueprint to achieve better health and more focussed navigation towards what I would like to achieve in this life.
Instead of strictly interpreting a strong feeling that makes me look “back in time” as though I am feeling nostalgic for “the past”, I have allowed that the reason that time in “the past” left such a powerful imprint on my memory was that the earlier version of me was tuning into future me…perhaps me now…creating a powerful impulse that locks these two moments onto each other, like a matching frequency across time. This made so much sense to me as I sifted back to those times in my memory banks that had the most powerful “tug” on my nostalgia reader; some of which felt so out-of-context compared to other things that were going on at the time that they made very little sense before. Mostly they could be described as little more than a very powerful feeling and of heightened senses, a feeling of bliss that transported me somewhere else for a short period yet some of these moments have provide extraordinarily resilient “across time”, like I wanted to make sure not to forget them.
I have very little genuine nostalgia for those times of growing up in the 70s, 80s, 90s and yet there are certain feelings hooked to certain moments in my childhood that seem lit up on a whole different scale to what else was going on…so what if those moments were actually tuning into all “the future” potential that lay up ahead? What if I was being taught how to recognise a particular frequency so I would know it when it happened again and create communication lines to myself across so-called time, like throwing a series of ropes to guide myself outside of time? Like the spiders web, time seen thus is more akin to a beautiful pattern we form around ourselves and us at its centre; it all comes back to spinning again and is such a powerful way to open up your sensory awareness of time, outside of the “tick-tick-tick” box that it has been turned into by our culture.
When I was in Glastonbury, these moments came thick and fast – moments I knew I recognised – and some of them felt like they were golden moments from childhood…yet, I knew more strongly than that, they were also gold nuggets of now, sent back to me “there” to give me a clue by saying “come this way”; tempting me with a flavour of what lay in store, a message from my future self delivered by what would have been most effective to a child, being a feeling of great comfort and joy. As I see it, I was perhaps sitting in my bedroom playing on a nondescript day of childhood feeling somewhat gloomy about school or bullying or whatever when, suddenly, I was transported to a golden afternoon walking up a country lane past orchards towards Glastonbury Tor; imagine the power of that flash forwards to the future.
As a child, I had very little contact with countryside; I can count on one hand how many times we left the city and our garden was my green haven…so how come so many of my golden moments felt like open landscapes and country lanes dappled with light? Such heightened moments of inexplicable bliss in my childhood were often some sort of misfit in the landscape of my actual experience to that point, like I was seeing a mountain lit up in a rocky landscape…but what they taught we was to look out for moments when “the landscape” of your life seems to light up for no apparent reason, like its saying “come over here, this way…” As I say these words, I realise this is exactly how I have navigated my life, often taking apparently blind turns or having inexplicable faith in a certain outcome because its as though I can “see” it all lit up in my mind’s eye and yet this guidance has never let me down, has always taken me my highest path. In our domestic lives, my family have come to trust my guidance implicitly since I am prepared to put my trust in it and hear its call; yet we all have direct access to it if we open up to it and bring it on board.
I get it all the time with songs; something I’ve written about many times before and its been happening more and more. An “old” song I used to adore and which I hadn’t heard for years came up the other day and almost overwhelmed me with its unexpected arrival, like a tender hug from “the past”, helping me to heal something because I was reminded that when I loved it most intensely, not long after the so-called biggest trauma of my life, I was alright really; was not the walking-wounded I had tended to think. In seeing that I still had the tenderness left in me to respond to such a song, I was helped to rewrite what I know about that time in a single moment, like a final word on the matter that put it to bed. It told me I hadn’t become as hard and brittle as I thought, back then; was in better shape than time has tended to make me think I must have been, so I could let that go now…the drama around it could be stepped down and I could stop endlessly sending support “back” to that earlier version of me and let her stand on her own two feet.
Then another layer of understanding around how I had used that song emerged as I knew, without doubt, that it was me of “now” that sent that song back to me of “then” like a comfort packaged that included a periscope through which I would be able to view this future version that had survived and grown stronger as a result of everything I was going through at the time. This was why I had coped and I felt its completion like a wave of gratitude.
I also knew, with a shiver, why that particular song had been chosen as an emissary of love since it wasn’t the first time it had comforted me. When it first came out, I had associated it with a very specific Christmas of my childhood; that’s why I trusted its message like an angel had arrived at my shoulder. Through the simple mechanism of a song, I had hopscotched a warm embrace to myself across time, more than once, like a gentle hand reached out across the airwaves.
Ghosts of memory of other lifetimes have grown ever stronger lately. In bizarre new urges as to how to dress or express myself, I introduce myself to other versions of myself and suddenly know them like someone stood right next to me. My witchy hair and the silver-white rug I clip around me on the chilly mornings when I work, held by the copper celtic pin a sudden pressing urge had me buying…they bring up in me other versions of self and I feel their wisdom wake in me as I amalgamate them with myself just a little more, day-after-day. Deep new understanding underpins the profound contentment found in long hours spent alone deep-diving in the playground of the metaphysical and all the interchangeably creative pursuits that draw me to them; for, through them, I experience the contentment of other me’s that lived voluntarily and playfully on the fringes, concocting remarkable things and enjoying the simple pleasures of golden hedgerows and dappled water. The layers of womanhood that rise up in me now are like a vast gathering of females from many times, back and forth; from darkest cave to galactic traveller and they merge as the essence of me, providing me with insight that is quite outside of time.
So I see the walls of time soften even further; an illusion that holds substance just so long as we want it to…yet when we invite it to transform into gold, it does that too, before our very eyes and all we have to do is look.
These photos were taken using my phone as I watched the All Hallows sunset through a single dandelion clock. I was on my afternoon walk with my dog when I suddenly decided to slow right down and ditch my planned schedule in favour of sitting down by the river; so the playful theme of watching “time” dissolve” really appealed to me. Then it made me laugh – but didn’t surprise me at all – to discover I had sixty useable pictures at the end of editing so here’s exactly one minute of time-transformation for you to enjoy.