Transformations, part five
In part four, I was shown that the outer checkpoint isn’t the point; my own, inner feelings of love and resonance are my path with a heart. (The image above is an illustration I did of a heart-filled path ~ thanks, Savoy Cabbage Deva :)
The night after, I received water-over-mountain, overcoming obstructions, again.
This time it had a changing second line which highlights how it is now important to push through, for everyone’s benefit:
“There is one instance in which a man must go out to meet the trouble,
even though difficulty piles upon difficulty: this is when the path of duty leads
directly to it ~ in other words, when he cannot act of his own volition but is
duty bound to go and seek out danger in the service of a higher cause.”
This becomes wood/wind under water, replenishment (below) representing a wooden bucket drawing life-giving water up from a well to re-energize and restore all of life.
Thinking about how I’d just been stopped at a checkpoint, I felt more deeply into why I wanted to be shown the White Paths. I sincerely affirmed that this was my intent so that I could continue to deepen and strengthen my spirit connection in order to, in turn, guide others to better do so themselves.
And also that I understood I may need to change or realize something before that way could open for me ~ before I could be permitted to pass through the checkpoint.
That night, I had a big dream.
I’ve got a headstone for my dad, who died nine years ago. It’s a wide, fairground-style hippo, very brightly colored, wacky and playful.
(Some of Hippo’s symbolic meanings include healing, accessing emotional depths, contact with spirit and protection of one’s family.)
Someone I know asks how this is going to work since in the dream my dad had died two years before. I casually reply that as far as I know, he’s still ‘on ice’, waiting frozen in a morgue ‘til he can be properly buried.
My friend is so profoundly shocked by this that she goes away, looking like she’s about to be sick.
Later on, I remember that dad had in fact been buried, and I’m looking out for my friend to to tell them this. I’m uncomfortably aware, though, that this isn’t good enough: it’s still ‘not right’ for a daughter to forget whether or not she’s buried her father.
Throughout the day I turned over the message of the dream until I got it.
And when I did, had a huge emotional release, allowing me to feel the depth and truth of this understanding.
When my dad had died (in waking life), it had been my responsibility to arrange the funeral - and to do so in such a way that respected both his esoteric beliefs and his mother’s Christian faith.
Since he’d left no wishes, I put a lot of thought into it the best way to do it, and finally decided on a green burial in a beautiful woodland on the crest of a hill, with an interfaith minister who spoke inclusively to everyone’s beliefs at the graveside.
Though she had to shout them, as a sudden gale-force wind whipped up while the coffin was being lowered into the ground, there was a sense of completion and ‘rightness’ about it all.
I was being clearly shown that either my spirit or my father’s, or both, didn’t fully feel this completion; that something more was being called for to truly lay him to rest.
Since it had been a green burial, I’d found out memorial stones were not allowed, so had let go of mentally designing a beautiful carved boulder for him. But now the fact that he’s buried miles from anywhere he knew in an unmarked grave felt unbearably sad.
I knew that to create this remembrance of him and put it by the waterfall he loved so much was still what I needed and wanted to do, and got in touch with a stone carver to begin the process.
