Why do you take so long?

I try to meditate every morning so I can set a tone of calm for my day. I typically wake up with “busy mind syndrome,” feeling overwhelmed with anxiety before the day truly starts.

Today, I journeyed to my special place. Others refer this as a astral temple or something like that. I’ve heard stories of what others create in their astral realm. For me it’s more um business like. My astral temple is an office, though right now it looks like a library. My calming place has a whiteboard.

Before I get into the office, sometimes I walk around a rolling hill spattered with trees. Not often, infact rarely, but today was one of those days. I saw a woman just beyond my main tree, standing tall, wearing a blue cloak with long black hair flowing out of it. She felt like a representation of Lilith. I felt beckoned to come closer to her and noticed she was standing near a pond. She extended a hand to point to the pond, indicating to me to look into it. The water was lightly dusted with fallen leaves and little pieces of grass. It reminded me, or perhaps she reminded me, that I can scry. I don’t scry very often as I don’t have a dedicated bowl or mirror for it, but I looked into this pond and I saw an image of a buffalo standing in a grassy plain in what felt like Wyoming, but I’ve never been there. Next I saw a campfire and my beloved and I sitting next to it, smiling and having a good time. I didn’t see much else in the water and was about to leave, but I was told to look again and words appeared,

“Where do I know you from?”

The question wasn’t directed toward me, it was directed toward her. So I asked her, “Where do I know you from?”

I saw colorful autumn leaves falling from big bushy trees.

“Autumn.”

I had this sudden feeling, a feeling of awareness, about a sense of oneness. We are one. If we are one, it’s not contained by physical space. Not only are we all part of the rocks and the trees and the birds in the sky, but we are all part of the process of creation and living. We are the seasons. We are the sun. We are the darkness. She said that we were together as part of the autumn, that as humans we feel attracted to a specific season. Some love the birth of spring and others the death of winter. I love autumn because I had once been a part of it, she said. She wanted me to draw attention to this love of a specific season as if to tell me, you have a magic season. If I only pay attention to the natural rhythms of life within me, I’ll be able to quickly see what “my” season is and how to live in that space of magic that it brings me.

I think this is more than just a metaphysical musing, it sounds like grounded advice. Whether it’s a spiritual being I’m channeling or secret wisdom in my subconscious surfacing, I need to align my expectations of what’s possible this year to reality. I thought I had wanted to relaunch my business mentorship program in September, after the move, but in seeing this vision, I really want to focus on being with the season. Such is the blessing of the freelancer’s life. I can choose how to spend my time. This vision is asking me, will I really be equipped to be busy like that after the move? If my real goal is to transition away from web development and online business building, wouldn’t my time be better spent preparing for the MFA program? Wouldn’t my life be better spent immersing myself into my personal magic rather than burying myself in work?

It’s likely to be a fruitful time for me in other ways if I pay attention to my natural rhythm rather than what I think is expected from me in my “muggle” work.

I asked her if there was anything else she wanted me to see or know. I saw a well, one of those fairytalesque wishing wells. I peered into the darkness and felt a presence there. “Hello, is anyone there?”

“Yesssss” the s sound elongated. It was the sound of a snake.

“What would you like me to know?”

“Unknowing can be of grace. Knowing has consequences. Knowing has responsibility.”

The feeling I was getting from this message is to retrain myself to not know. Too often when a question arises in my thoughts do I run to Google to have the itch of the question scratched by the immediacy of an answer. This kills imagination. Would the myths of the man in the moon or the moon being made of cheese exist if we had always known what the moon looks like? Our unknowingness opens us to creativity, invention, and innovation. If I want to be a creative writer, the innocence of some ignorance is a tool.

That lesson absorbed, I asked if there was anything more. The woman and the well dissolved into thin air. Like magic.

I turned to my tree. I wanted to check into my special space, the Library.

I stood in a nook of bookshelves filled with older books. I couldn’t read the titles on any of the books, but I could feel them all around me. My “spirit guide” or perhaps lead librarian or lead director of knowledge, told me,

“Why do you think this space is a library? You think right now you love being surrounded by books. No. You created a library because you want to see your book on a shelf. You don’t see it yet, but it’s here. You can’t see it yet because you’re not ready, it’s not ready. You have to get ready. You have to get back into the habit of writing every day as you used to. You remember. Get back in the habit of writing about anything. Every day. Get back in the habit of living life, then you’ll have something to write about. Trust what you’re doing. You think ‘writing about nothing’ isn’t productive, but it is. In writing daily about life, you’ll find the stories. They will come. You just have to trust that all you are doing is part of it. Focus on what you really want to do.”

I could see again the autumn that Lilith was showing me. Immerse myself in my magic and all else will come.

I asked how things were in my relationship. I’m not having any problems in my relationship, but I do like checking in. I could see us represented as two dolls or figures in a carriage, one of those old carriages pulled by a horse. It felt strange, but I think it was symbolic of something else. Neil’s figure got out of the carriage. He was wearing a black suit with a top hat. It looked like he was talking to someone about work while I stayed in the carriage. I think it was telling me that, although I can see what’s happening, I might not be able to do anything, that my movements for a time will be slower than his. He’s going to have a lot more work than I will in upcoming months. There was a sense that I can’t see how serious his job opportunities will be. I just have to trust in his success.

Well fuck.

I feel like life is never moving fast enough for me. Especially after so many false starts and setbacks since my nervous breakdown in 2015. I was beginning to think I was going to “nail it” this year with the new business program, but I feel more and more I’m letting go of the tech work. I know I need to take a chance on myself and what I really want to do, but I also don’t feel convicted that I can do it. I suppose the task for the rest of this year is to find my faith.

“Jesus… walk across my swimming pool.”

I just need that one, small miracle to believe, right?