I’ve picked up the regular daily practice of drawing three cards first thing in the morning. I write down the cards and what I think they mean, and at the end of the day I go back and reflect on the day in light of what the cards said. This morning, what they said was “big important things are afoot, but nothing is happening yet.” and I sighed and felt frustrated. I felt frustrated because I thought this morning’s reading was saying “Here comes another unproductive day!” and it’s felt like a long string of unproductive days. 

For some reason it was only this morning that I put it together and read through the last few weeks’ worth of morning draws. Over and over – almost every day. “The seed is planted; the work has begun, but no fruition yet.” “Do not expect much of anything to happen today, but remember that great things are happening!” Themes of incubation and expectation.  And of course, that’s what this season is about – the time from Imbolc to Ostara is one big waiting room, and I’m sitting here waiting. I remind myself that what sometimes feels like idleness is simply preparation. I only wish I knew what I was preparing for.

Last night, I had my third reiki class. We’re still working on self-treatment and we started the session with a guided meditation – the usual go-to-your-safe-space-and-meet-a-guide-and-ask-a-question.  There was absolutely no reason for me to let my teacher know that I’ve done this one a bazillion times and led it half a bazillion times – it’s always helpful for me and I didn’t want to throw her off her game. So I closed my eyes, and went to a safe space, and met a guide. It was a moose this time – I felt like he was another instance of Deer, but for some reason he showed up as a moose. I asked him my question – “How do I deal with my anxieties about the future?”

His response (paraphrased because of course these answers don’t actually show up as a block of text, at least for me) was that of course difficult things were going to happen to me. Changes would come and some of them would be hard. Of course, since I’m a living human, these things will come because that’s life and there’s no getting out of it. Everything changes, not all changes are easy, and that’s all there is to it. But, he said, that’s not the source of your anxiety. You already know this. The anxiety comes from not trusting yourself to do what is right through the changes. You don’t trust yourself to meet these things well. Nobody else takes care of you; you’re an adult, there is no parent out there to make sure that the things that must be done are done. It’s just you, and you’re afraid that this isn’t enough. If you want to be less anxious, take better care of yourself. Parent yourself better. Show that frightened part of yourself that it’s all ok, you’ve got it covered, and that you’re ready for whatever comes. He said, you don’t have to conquer the world just yet, but if you want to not be afraid you have to stand up for yourself.

Later in the class, we did a self-scanning – a long, slow, energetic scan of the body. I was entertained by a voice I started hearing about a third of the way through the practice. It was the voice of a somewhat petulant old woman nagging me about my health. Unlike the moose, this is not a paraphrase – she was very clear about everything. “Ooh, you’ve been drinking too much coffee; don’t you think you should cut down?” “Hmph, gall bladder, it’s fine for now but at your age you ought to think about it more.” “Cut down on the sugar, it’s not good for you!” It was mostly just funny, until we got down around the lower abdomen. She stopped muttering and nagging and said, “Good god, girl, were you just going to let that go? Why are you ignoring this?” and I became aware that there was indeed pain there. “Start taking vitex now. Every day, for at least the next three cycles. You need to do something about this now unless you really like suffering. “

So I went home and took some vitex tincture (Vitex agnus-castus). I don’t have any of the tincture as a simple, though I do have a bag of dried vitex berries from last summer. I’ll stop at the liquor store for some tincturing spirit and get those brewing tonight. The warning was so very clear and so emphatic,  and if I don’t follow it I suspect she’ll yell at me again the next time I do a self-scan. Plus I don’t actually like suffering. I thought of going to the doctor for a checkup, but “I have some vague pain in my lady-bits that a voice in my head said might be something serious” is not likely to go anywhere helpful beyond a pat on the head and a recommendation for some Motrin and maybe some Xanax.  

I wrote the above a few days ago and haven’t posted it because I’m not sure how I feel about posting personal visionary stuff right now, but I haven’t been all that shy about it in the past and there is no reason to feel that way now (and anyway nobody reads this far into a long post so who cares, right?) I think my reluctance to post is part of my ongoing anxiety issues, and like the moose said, the way around that is to not let the anxious bits run the show. I had an odd experience this weekend – odd for me, since talking moose and invisible herbalists don’t actually register as “odd” anymore – and I feel like it somehow relates.
I went to a workshop that is part of an ongoing series on energy work – this was the second of a four-part series. We did a chakra meditation towards the end of the session that involved circulating the breath through the chakras – the teacher brough us up to the fifth chakra and then had us sort of hang in space before bringing us back down. While we were in that space, I got hit by lightning. Well, not exactly that – it felt more like a jolt from an electric fence, but not exactly electrical – I’m using electricity as a metaphor here, since that was the closest feeling in my experience, but it wasn’t quite like that either. It was a sensation of energy suddenly and strongly coursing through my entire body. It wasn’t unpleasant or pleasant – it was startling but not frightening. It was absolutely a physical sensation, and it wasn’t suggested by the teacher or expected by me. I was sitting cross-legged on the floor; if I had been standing or in a chair, I would have fallen over. As it was, I had to put my hands out to steady myself. It almost brought me out of the meditation, and I had to really focus to follow the teacher back down ladder.
The teacher checked in with me afterwards as she saw that something had happened. She made sure I was OK (I was) and suggested that with the reiki work I’ve been doing plus the stuff I’ve been learning from her that perhaps it was something akin to what you get when increasing physical activity – sort of the energetic equivalent of a sore muscle getting worked. I don’t know if this is right or not, though it seems like a good explanation.
I think what startled me about it is that it was so completely physical. As I said, I’m used to things that many people would find odd – visions, dreams, visitations, foreshadowings, messages – fairies, gods, ancestors – all of these things have always been with me. And while I say that I believe in them, in the sense that I accept their reality as something apart from myself, there has always been this wee little bit that says “but of course it could all be imaginary!” Always this caveat, which I rarely acknowledge any more as there has never been anything helpful about it. I think I keep it because it’s reassuring, in its own way – as long as I can retain the ability to examine these experiences in a critical light, as long as keep that little shard of skepticism, I retain the ability to back away someday and rejoin the sleepwalking masses. Maybe that’s healthy or maybe it’s a hindrance, I don’t know. I mostly just don’t think about it too much any more.
This wasn’t anything I can be skeptical about, even if I don’t have an interpretation for it. I have this skeptical voice as well about energy healing, that it’s all placebo (as though that explains anything) or that it’s just something to make everyone feel better without having any physical impact (as though there is anything wrong with that.) I respond to that voice by saying well, if I can be an effective placebo that makes people feel better, that’s pretty good right there. Perhaps my jolt was a reminder that there is more to it than that and that work with the subtle bodies is also work with the physical body.
Over the last few days, the tone of the morning card draw has changed. It’s still all about potential, but rather than talking about incubation, it’s moved on to sprouting. Apparently things are beginning to happen. I don’t know what those things are, but it’s about time.