While we continue defending the feminine (like she needs to be defended…), championing her like she has been wronged, we remain completely out of balance. While our masculine aspect is still charged with any wrongdoing, and while he is commissioned with taking on what ails the so-called struggling feminine who supposedly needs “rescuing”, he will be condemned to hunting down and nailing dragons for all eternity in order to “prove himself”. This makes him unavailable to meet with the feminine in the “place” where he can take off his armour and come into full union with her; there will always be another task to be done and he will be forever distracted, absent, preoccupied, guarded. In order to meld fully, the unconditional surrender of all issues between these aspects needs to occur; and the bridge between them needs to be a motion of at once stepping forwards and reaching out to receive in both cases. A decommissioning of all reasons to be other than this bridge, with each other, from that moment forwards, needs to occur unreservedly…
Its time to stop skirting around the “big event” of my week alluded to in my last post, though I won’t enlarge on it yet (that may come later but, for now, the process is deeply intimate). Last week, I underwent an AuraTransformation™, a radical and irreversible energetic treatment, something I referred to in my post Crystal living: life beyond “the rub” and which I have been deeply considering, involving a great deal of research and inner listening, for the past two months. The process is split into two sessions and yesterday was my second, balancing, session which, amongst other things, brought my four elements and then my masculine and feminine aspects into full balance. The process has been incredible and unexpected journey; not least because of the literal journey that took me on a more than 300 miles round trip from home (twice in five days) to undergo the treatment with the mediator that felt like she was “the right one” for me…very important. This meant two journeys to Exeter in Devon…a long way from home and a city I had never been to, the only prior association I had of Devon being a handful of holidays in my youth and earlier adulthood. Exeter itself had that virgin feel to it; one of the few cathedral towns I had never been to before.
Then once booked, to my thrill but perhaps not ultimate surprise, I learned the sessions were to take place within a few 100 feet of the cathedral. I have had a life-long association with cathedrals, coming (gradually) to know these as place-markers for incredibly powerful energy nodes in the landscape where the masculine and feminine aspects play-off against each other and, ultimately, cross over with the potential to merge. My insatiable attraction to cathedrals in my earlier life felt like it had something to do with “history” (I can’t say it was about religion) but, as I gathered more and more powerful experiences around these places, it gradually became an energetic draw at the highly conscious level as something I actively worked with. There has always been something in the bloodline, for me, too; like I can’t keep away from them or am some sort of energetic guardian of what they represent (my mother’s family lived opposite a cathedral and she was born in that house; her favourite uncle, who showed me around it, a keyholder and volunteer guide until he was well into his 80s). Those buildings are like vast, loyal dragons that have served by sitting on, thus safeguarding, something powerful and important to remember about places where masculine and feminine come into union and the symbology so often incorporated into their stone masonry hints at traditions that far predate what we think of as religion. Above all, there is a distinct and often refined energy that I have been able to work with at these sites which…lets be honest…would have been covered over with so much urban sprawl by now if there had not been some giant dinosaur of a building sitting guard on that particular turf. To discover I was to have my AT in such a place was a powerful affirmation that I was more-than doing the right thing for myself.
Exeter intrigued me when I did a little research. An early church went back to at least Roman times and an early Christian version was dedicated to Saint Mary, know as Saint Mary Major, and became the first cathedral at Exeter but then a Norman cathedral, more like a castle, was started slightly to the east of that original site. That twin-towered building was then replaced by the softer, more light filled and ornate cathedral that stands there today, the two Norman towers kept as the only remnant of that earlier version and lending an unusualy squat shape, like a twin-headed dragon sat on his haunches. Mary Major continued as a parish church in the shadow of the vastly larger cathedral until she was demolished 150 years ago; you can see where this metaphor could go…you could say, yet another case of the feminine being overshadowed, disregarded, plundered then obliterated… Indeed, this was my habitual starting point as I felt into the place where I was to have my AT…but it was quite a lag-point compared to where I ended up once I was more balanced and the difference between perspectives now tells me so much about how close we can think we are to our own greatest balance-point or experience of wholeness; and yet how desperately off-balance we often continue to be.
Another beautiful synchoncicity….by acccident, my first appointment was originally set for 31st Jan at the exact time of the lunar eclipse. I liked this a lot; but not as much as when the appointments were swapped around to make that my second appointment. This meant I would be walking out of my balancing session just in time to become the filling in a sun-and-moon sandwich, how very appropriate and powerful that could be. As I set off for my balancing session yesterday, I already knew what I intended to do. As the eclipse happened, I would start from Mary Major’s spire (the only part of the original cathedral that is still standing, on a stone plinth on the ground) and walk the 75 feet between her and the cathedral door, serving as a the bridge from masculine to feminine. In other words, I would make myself “the difference between them” and bring them back together again, as me in my newly balanced state.
When it came down to it, 75 feet really didn’t feel so very far; I had to laugh at how I felt I was realising something so pofoundly universal about how we were never quite as seperate as we thought. Also, being very slippery with mud, I was encouraged to make use of the flight of steps no-doubt engineered by some left-brained piece of ingenuity, which felt like the masculine holding out a hand to make the journey easier. In no time at all, I was at the cathedral door where I paid my entry to a very friendly woman who extended my ticket-entry so I could return again on future visits. Within a short space of time, I had chatted to her and several other guides numerous times as they helped me to play hide-and seek with certain features I was really keen to see on ceilings and walls so high they challenged my compromised eyesight, even with a long lens on my camera. Some cathedrals can feel foreboding or cold; this was anything but and I would say, based on its hospitality, that the feminine is very much at home and present within its walls, in fact it was obvious that this was a comfortable feminine domain, for all its massive stone arcs made me feel dwarfed by their scale.
This became much more apparent once I started looking into all the crevices: there are mermaids and Mary’s, with numerous grinning Green Men their side-kick, not to mention a menagerie of other creatures (real and imagined), dragons, even a medieval cat-flap in a door for the resident rat-catcher and, notably, a Medieval likeness of an elephant carved at least 100 years before anyone near here likely saw one. I loved its immense spaciousness and (courtesy of flying buttresses on the outside, like the spines of folded dragon wings) its sense of abundant light. The masculine had risen to great heights of craftmanship and ingenuity here…the longest continuous Medieval vaulted ceiling ever built, like a vast forest of stone trees; what an arbour for the feminine aspect to dwell in! This place felt more like an all-inclusive and somewhat eccentric forest dwelling place for, well, everyone, with the mistress of the house up at the top. In fact, the whole place had been constructed around the Lady Chapel – the oldest part of the building – and high up above that, painted colourfully with gold on blue….of course, how perfect…a ceiling made up of hundreds of tiny suns and moons. It was only a few minutes off the lunar eclipse when I reached this point and there was no more fitting place that I could have been.
My pervading sense, in the end, was that the masculine hadn’t sought to overshadow the feminine here; rather, he had striven with all his ingenuity and craftmanship to build her an all-mod-cons house or, more accurately, a palace and a far better earthly dwelling place than roughing it outside in a draughty Saxon barn with a tower. She hadn’t been overshadowed but, rather, moved from the draughty trailer in the yard into a nothing-held-back main residence fit for a queen. The whole sorry misunderstanding of intention was cleared up in me, at this metaphorical level, just as quickly and as thoroughly as it had been cleared up inside of me less than an hour ago during the “ceremony” of my balancing treatment. It had all been some grand miscommunication, made more and more of over the years until suddenly what had been intended as spirit-mates had ceased talking to one another in any kind of appropriate or mutually respectful way, delivering the cold-shoulder to one another more often than not. Here, you know I’m not just talking about a gender misunderstanding…nothing so small or relatively trivial (and which will self-resolve once we get all the other things straight). No, what I’m talking about more than anything here is the fundamental breakdown in communication within each of us, in that place where our masculine and feminine qualities meet each other so closely and intimately that they could and should meld together in order to give birth to our very highest potential as human beings. Instead, they are mostly out of whack and in stand-off with one another; and this manifests as our issues around health, making a living and our ability to thrive, our relationships with others and ourselves, our difficulties around determining our true purpose, the degree to which we unfairly value intellect over our subtle skills, noise and extroversion over quiet introversion, control over autonomy, involvement and teamskills over solitude or independence, how we figure out our balance of work versus pleasure, our sense of what seems most important to us as a collective and in community, our choices of where and how to live (perhaps especially as regards ecology and the pressing need to respect all other lifeforms) and pretty much every other matter that concerns us as human beings. This is where the fundamental breakdown in communication has occurred, compartmentalising two aspects of our own wholeness which need so desperately to work together. We live in a dualistic reality, yes (for our benefit), but it was never meant to be this broken down into irreconcilable parts. Now, within myself, I felt like I had rectified this state of broken communication, once and for all…yes, it really felt that momentous and tangible. I also somehow knew that, even though I may still wobble out of balance from time to time, its like a riding a bicycle…once mastered, never forgotten since the feeling switched on in me is sublime and impossible to forget. Yes, incredibly hard to describe but it keeps fountaining within me and is as though it keeps carrying me on its twin shoulders towards a whole new potential.
I have to smile writing this post as I only shared a couple of days ago how my sense of place was speaking less loudly to me now (since my first AT session) and yet this whole metaphor had played out through a metaphor delivered by my potent sense of place. I saw very clearly how this metaphor had walked me towards a key piece of understanding or, rather, served as a visceral externalisation of the inner transformation taking place. Less than a week ago, I was still prepared to entertain that some terrible wrong or unfairness had taken place and that the forlorn spire of Mary Major (the only part that is left of the original church; you could say her pinacle) marked the site of the “true” cathedral. Even though I knew, with my mind, there must be some sort of middle ground to this perspective, I visited the spire on that first visit but felt strongly against going inside the cathedral; in fact, wild horses wouldn’t drag me in there as if it was counter to the “spirit” of what I was attempting to bring about as supreme balance within myself via the AT. I had made myself separate from it and here lay a profound understanding, part of which I used to open this post:
While we continue defending the feminine (like she needs to be defended…), championing her like she has been wronged, we remain completely out of balance. While our masculine aspect is still charged with any wrongdoing, and while he is commissioned with taking on what ails the so-called struggling feminine who supposedly needs “rescuing”, he will be condemned to hunting down and nailing dragons for all eternity in order to “prove himself”. This makes him unavailable to meet with the feminine in the “place” where he can take off his armour and come into full union with her; there will always be another task to be done and he will be forever distracted, absent, preoccupied, guarded. In order to meld fully, the unconditional surrender of all issues between these aspects needs to occur; and the bridge between them needs to be a motion of at once stepping forwards and reaching out to receive in both cases. A decommissioning of all reasons to be other than this bridge, with each other, from that moment forwards, needs to occur unreservedly; no more “buts…” Once this is allowed to happen, a containment of the feminine will occur; but – importantly – this is not an imprisonment…in fact, it is anything but incarceration and it allows embodiment to take place, as it must for full union to occur. Once this is allowed, it will be swiftly perceived that the masculine is also contained within the feminine, albeit in a slightly different (you could say complimentary) way. There is no describing this “place”; the only way to know it is to achieve it. This takes a leap of faith…we cannot know with the mind what we have yet to achieve…but we can attempt to know that it will be worth it, for all, simultaneously.
Yesterday, I felt no such reluctance and my reward was finding the feminine inside the masculine…in fact, more than present, very much the determining flavour within. My stand-off had played out to fruition and the fruit was that all is intact, the house is whole, there is no separation. I knew this, already, long before I left the cathedral…where I felt it, viscerally, the whole time I was there. Then it played out as such a comedic postscript to my day where the cafe I had earmarked for my late lunch, by the water’s edge, was bolted-up closed for the day; in fact the dreary grey-day waterside looked very different to how it had appeared less than a week ago in full golden sunset glow with swans snoozing on the eater’s edge. So I walked all the way back to the very first place I had had an inclination to eat straight after leaving the cathedral (though my mind had over-ridden the choice; a reminder that I need to get so much better at acting on subtle clues). From there, in my window seat, I turned round to a perfect view of the front facade of the cathedral and, just as I noticed I was also equidistant from the spire of Saint Mary Major, forming the tip of a triangle from my window, the whole cathedral became flood lit in the first golden sunlight of the day. I had formed a pyramid with the spire and the in-spiration: knowing, suddenly, how this is what the feminine and masculine play out together, the masculine “bringing indoors” and embodying that which the feminine already is without any need for roof and walls (there is nothing higher) yet, through the ingenuity and inspiration of the masculine we get to realise that aspect within the “form” of our human molecules, as who we are, and in the physical and tangible world of bricks and mortar. Yes, its a collaboration and when we achieve this collaboration on the inside of our own human exprience, we each become our own cathedral or power node marking a “place” where masculine and feminine have become one.
Things tend to lighten up just as soon as you reach the point where wholeness is achieved as an insider job of “realisation”; like the universe lets out a sigh of relief. So as a sort of cheeky wink from the universe that I had got there in the end, the young man who had sat next to me on the train for two hours that morning happened to walk right past on the pavement just as I was drawing these conclusions; what are the odds. Then the internet failed as I was attempting to make payment for my meal so the manager insisted, with a knowing smile, that I have a free lunch. My taxi arrived in perfect time and the incredibly chatty driver told me something so synchronistic and useful to a particular situation affecting my life at home that he could have been a messenger from the highest source; and we had the best of chats while he got me to my train in perfect time. The noticing of synchronicity might sound trivial but is just one of the lighthearted ways the universe likes to give the nod to the path you are travelling and how aware and awake you are being as you navigate your own highest, and most balanced, path.
This truly felt like the beginnings of life in balance yet the strongest clues remain on the inside, as how I feel…still…the morning afterwards; glowingly whole in a way never quite experienced before. A big part of it, for me, is recognising when and where the feminine aspect in me wants to be contained or “housed” for her better comfort and joy and when and where she doesn’t. I don’t, for instance, feel I want to share very much about my AT and all the ways that is profoundly transforming my experience of life; not yet and maybe never, and that is a balance-point for me, going forwards. In other words, knowing when to blog about my experience, honing it into sentences, sharing it with an audience because that helps me to crystalise my experience…and when to just allow the experience to be there more softly, for my own personal enjoyment and benefit, without having to prove or define myself or feel there is always something more to be done (as though an experience “isn’t real” until it is made into something). It may profoundly influence the nature of this blog, going forwards…and yet only for the better; and, indeed, it may mean that I spend more of my time living my life and far less writing about it…I don’t know yet and I get to decide in each moment, but whatever form that aspect of my life takes, it already feels significantly more in balance.