This adventure began with a channeling that I did for myself, a bit of automatic writing. My guides, Alexander, came through.
We have been ascertaining that there is still within you a bit of fear that you will do or say the wrong thing. You experienced this yesterday. And so we would work with you a bit deliberately on this today, if you will let us. We wish for you to sit with this, to allow the voices to come up, to really feel the emotions of all the times you’ve felt like you hurt others by saying the wrong thing. Let it come up, dear one, and ask us to surround you, to heal this. And then allow us to focus on your throat chakra and to heal and clear it as well, for there is still contraction there, still worry and fear that you cannot be trusted with the words.
And those fears must go.
So I took a deep breath, closed my eyes, and asked any and all parts of me, including past life aspects of me, who had felt silenced, or afraid to speak their truth – any truth – to come forward. I could feel them, and there were many of them, filling up the space around me. And then I began to see them – mostly women of various ages, but there were a few men, even some children, from every corner of the globe and every time in history. I, like a lot of us, have led many different lives.
Where were we? I looked around, in my mind’s eye, not seeing, so much as perceiving. This place was dark, somewhat desolate. The Pond. We were standing beside my pond.
These aspects of me, at least forty people, were standing uneasily, a few walking with agitation, a few clinging to one another. I could feel their fear swirling in the air around me, fear of being judged, fear of hurting others with careless words. Fear of speaking.
To a person, they were silent.
My guides promised to help me with this. But I wanted support of a more concrete nature. I can’t see, or hug, my guides. I can my Ferals, and so I sent out a silent call, one I knew they would answer. And they did.
Instantly, for there is no time in this place, I saw the eight of them striding toward us over the rocky ground, but they stopped a distance away, not drawing too close to this group of wary humans.
“We are here, Goddess,” Lyon called, breaking the stifling silence. “What do you need of us?”
I took a deep breath and let it out. How to explain? “These are mostly past life aspects of me. They need to feel safe,” I said, then admitted, “We need to feel safe.”
“Then we will offer protection.” Lyon made a circling motion with the hand he lifted above his head, and his team fanned out, surrounding us, but not too closely. While I knew these powerful, dangerous males well, the other parts of me did not. Lyon was being careful not to frighten them, but I don’t think he needed to be. My Ferals are a part of me, and it appeared that these other aspects of me knew it.
As I watched, a couple of the Ferals shifted into their animals. Hawke took to the skies, circling overhead, keeping a hawk’s eye out for danger, while Tighe shifted into a Bengal tiger and prowled, growling low in his throat.
I realized that I hadn’t explained to them that there was no actual danger, here. But their willingness to take on anything for me filled me with gratitude. And I realized that the group around me had calmed somewhat, with the presence of these protective shifters. The Ferals made them feel safe. And that was a powerful start.
As I felt into what was needed, one of my past life aspects, a young woman dressed in a simple gown from some centuries past, came to me, crying softly. I opened my arms to her and she tucked her face against the side of my neck, her shoulders shaking gently.
I rubbed her back, then said quietly, “Tell me. Why are you crying? What are you feeling?”
She hiccupped as she gathered herself. “Overwhelmed. You’re here to speak truth, and we all know it. We’re part of you, now. We’ve integrated with you, as was necessary.” She caught her breath, the tears threatening again. “We have to support you. We promised. But…I’m so scared.”
I continued to rub her back, offering quiet comfort. “Tell me,” I said softly. “Why are you scared?”
It took her a moment to answer, to once more find the control to do so. “My mother…” She stopped, caught her breath once more, then pulled back so that she could meet my gaze. “It’s never been safe to speak, not as a woman. Not as a girl. I was beaten as a child for speaking in front of my father. Any words. Any. I had to be silent when he was in the house, even as I watched him beat my mother to death for speaking when he had not given her permission to do so.” She shook her head. “I never spoke again. Never. It feels so strange to be doing so, now.”
I took her hands, but spoke loudly enough for all to hear me clearly. “You’re safe here. We’re safe, not just here, but in this life. This is a different time, a different culture, and I’m well protected. I understand your fear, I do. But I cannot do what I came to do, or be who I came to be, unless you let go of it. I’m asking you to do that. Now. Here. Today.”
Their agitation grew a bit, but I heard whispering as they began to speak amongst themselves. I supposed that was a start.
I noticed a light glowing at the edge of the crowd and saw Archangel Michael standing there.
I sighed as I met his gaze. “Any ideas?” I asked him. “I thought I’d cleared all of this.”
“You’ve cleared many layers of it,” he replied. “But this fear has been buried deep.”
“Did I clear my own fear, but not theirs?”
“In a sense. But they are you. The fear they carry has been buried deeper in your subconscious. The time has come for you to become aware of it. And to let it go.”
“How?”
“You know what to do. Just feel into it.”
I thought about that, then nodded, because he was right. I did have an idea. During one of those early sessions a decade ago, the Archangels had taught my companions and me how to spin up the energy.
The way I understood this, and have used it since, is to open myself to all of the energy in a confined space. For example, an airplane I might be traveling in. The key is to invite all of the energy in, high vibration and low, and then swirl it through my own energy field, pouring my own light into this mix.
It works a bit like a washing machine. When you combine the soap, water, and dirty clothes, then agitate sufficiently, the dirt dissolves, or at least loosens and washes away.
When I first began doing this, I would simply imagine that my ‘spinning up the energy’ was doing something, because I couldn’t feel anything. That’s changed a bit since then. Now, I feel the lower vibrations like a heaviness in my chest, but as I spin light into it, I can feel that heaviness slowly disappear. When the spin cycle is complete, I send the energy, now at a much higher vibration, back out like a shower of joyful confetti.
Am I actually making a difference? Who knows, but I prefer to believe I’m helping to lift the energy, in some small way.
Now, in this place, I knew it’s what was needed. I motioned to the people around me to give me some space, then I turned in a circle, letting my gaze touch each of them.
“I want to take your fear,” I told them, “But you must allow me to do so. It’s up to you.”
“It’s too much,” one older woman said. “You’ll be crushed beneath the weight of it.”
I smiled. “I’m stronger than I look. Plus, I’m not doing this alone.” Silently, I asked my team in spirit to help me spin up this heavy energetic mass. But I also asked for any and all assistance from angels and guides to support these aspects of me – who were individuals in their own right – and help them feel safe enough to release the fear they’d carried for so long, and clearly carried still.
Even in this state of being, they had free will. I could only release the fear they were willing to let go of.
I lifted my arms, closed my eyes, and opened myself as completely as I could. At once, I was hit by a heaviness that nearly knocked me off my feet. So much fear. Did I have enough high vibrational energy, enough light, to transmute all of this?
Then I realized that I’d forgotten the most important part. Spinning up the energy wasn’t just about taking in the lower vibrations, it was about taking in all of the vibrations, high and low.
That’s why I needed my Ferals. Not to make us feel safe, not exactly.
Their greatest power these days is the loving beauty of their energy. As a direct result of the hell I put them through in their books, they’ve healed deep down to the core of their beings, and become fine examples of balanced, sacred, divine masculine energy in physical form, even if they were currently joining me in this non-physical space.
As I continued to allow in all of the fear swirling around me, I focused on the love of my Ferals, on their selfless act of protection. Their love is powerful, unconditional, and I connected with it hard, allowing myself to be filled with it, spinning it up with the fear energy until the chaos swirling through me began to grow lighter and lighter and lighter.
The heaviness within me broke and dissolved, at last. All I felt was love, and joy, and I sent that energy out to all those gathered around me, all who’d joined me in this place.
I heard gasps, and sighs, a chuckle, and then laughter that spread through the group like wildfire, the laughter of soul-deep relief.
I glanced up and found Archangel Michael watching with a small smile. When he looked my way, I said, “It worked.”
“For the most part.” As his gaze swung to a young couple, mine followed and I saw that they were clinging to one another, still very much afraid.
They weren’t ready to give it up, I realized. I looked to Archangel Michael, who gave me a look that said what can you do?
“I’ll work with them,” he said, and walked over to the pair, enveloped them in angelic arms, and led them away.
By now, the laughter of the others had created a party atmosphere. Music was playing from somewhere, an old-timey reel, and half of them were beginning to dance.
“We need ale to celebrate!” someone shouted.
“A man after my own heart,” Jag replied with a grin.
“Party at Feral House?” Tighe suggested, striding through the crowd to sweep me into a much-delayed hug. “Roar?” he called back, addressing Lyon, their Chief. “What do you say?”
Lyon looked around the crowd, clearly a little uncertain about inviting this crowd into his home. He looked at me. “Your call.”
I smiled, the jubilation infectious.
“It should be fine,” I said, not at all sure that was true. I mean, they were aspects of me, in the sense that we shared sparks of the same soul. But they were each an individual. Still, I was pretty sure their hearts were healed. Any trouble they caused would likely be of the partying-too-hard variety.
Jag would love it.
“You’ll come, too, of course,” Lyon said, and it wasn’t a question. He opened his arms to me and I walked into them for a much-needed hug.
“I wouldn’t miss it,” I said with a grin. I loved spending time there, and catching up with the Feral wives, who’ve become like sisters to me. Plus, I was their goddess, the creator of their world and everyone in it. If I needed to, I could write a different scenario than whichever one we found ourselves in.
If only I had that kind of power in my world!
“Party at Feral House!” Tighe called and a cheer went up from the crowd, even though I wasn’t sure how many of them knew what…or where…Feral House was.
I looked at the two powerful males on either side of me, now. “Thank you, both.”
Tighe looped his arm around my shoulders and kissed my hair. “We’ll always be here when you need us, Goddess, whether for protection or parties. Or just to keep you company on your adventures.” He grinned. “Beats the hell out of fighting draden and Mage.”
I snorted. “Those days are over.”An uncharacteristic stillness settled over Tighe and I glanced up at him to find a gentle smile rooted in deep peace. “We still have our challenges. Not all of the Daemons are assimilating well, or at all.” His expression softened with such love that I knew he was thinking of his wife and kids. “But life is good, Goddess. Life is good.”