Today’s Walk: Banging on the Gates of Faerie
May 31, 2011
I feel like I’m banging on the gates of Faerie. Sometimes I wander off without knowing it, then suddenly realize I’m far from home. I might return quickly but, at first, think I can’t. I am lost, feeling powerless and forlorn, banging on the gates of Faerie.
I found a felled tree today. It might be birch, a tree reputed to stand between the worlds (which is lore that makes sense to me, except for my experience that all trees stand between the worlds). I took a stick from it. Does anybody know what this tree is?(Forgive the blurry pic, but I tossed the leaf before I realized the pic wasn’t great.) Its leaf is also in the photo, but it dried before I could get to my camera, so you can’t quite see its shape or edges. Kind of heart-like. I also found this feather, which I assume is Cardinal, but that’s just because it’s the only red bird I see around here.
I talked with the Faerie Queen about returning to Faerie, but it didn’t provide a route. Maybe it did provide the Birch and feather; and they may be the tools I need to point the way.
The tree might be Aspen, aspen telling me that the door to Faerie is the now. Oh my gosh, that is so funny! I told someone that, yesterday. But in different words. He is in an awful situation, and I told him that unless he can face it and be “with” it, he will not be able to feel or be with the dynamic ecstatic Fey energy of the day either. I’ve been dealing with some really crummy stuff myself, so have been trying to practice what I preached. I guess the aspen’s telling me to keep practicing it. The ecstatic path must go through rocky terrains sometimes.
As to the red feather: I hear it telling me to skip process and go right to playtime. Mind you, I am not naysaying the process-oriented stuff above. But it doesn’t have to be the whole of it. I’m going to go put on red lipstick and some earthy-brown eye glitter. And relish the pure calm and magic and pleasure I feel from having written this . . . Ah, stardrenched. That last sentence did it. I am home.
I thank the Divine for making me a bard. Sometimes my poesy, no matter how lovely and insightful, is like a firefly that I chase until I am lost, far from the Divine. But other times, the bardic path is my route to You.
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I love that idea that our gifts can lead us to and away from the Divine. Some how that just seems to be the dance. When I am working with or in my gifts, I find that I am at times never closer to the Divine and at times never further away. We are funny creatures arent we…
Yes, indeed. And i always feel so happy when someone “gets” what i say, so i don’t feel like the Lone Ranger. Our inner gifts are blessings and curses, just like all other things.
“like a firefly that I chase until I am lost”
Beautiful all around and this in particular… this is universal Truth in one way or another. It just struck a core for me.
Oh, thank you. U r always so supportive!
Could it be cottonwood?
I love their smell.
Yeah, I am being told cottonwood or Aspen. Got some research to do!
Wow, just now realized u left a link re cottonwood. Tres useful. It just might be cottonwood. And it was used traditionally to make baskets, which is an idea I can run with metaphorically re the tree’s msg to me. Thanks again!