August 20, 2022

 Another meditation and a fresh terror. Not mine, of course. So far, I have yet to meet anything that terrifies me in my forays into the Imaginal. The terror belonged to my young friend as we met again in meditation and then proceeded to open to whatever the Divine had in store for us today.


It wasn’t long before the blackness came for us, enveloping us. This time, it wasn’t the intimate blackness of the Beloved but the cold, austere blackness that I’ve heard Hameed describe as the ‘Death Space.’ I can see why it would seem terrifying because it has an endless and inescapable quality about it. It feels harsh, like you could drown in it. I’ve heard it arises for people as they are dying or maybe after they have died and it makes me wonder. Why scare the dying with this space? If you allow yourself to be shaken by it and don’t maintain your ground, it is really terrifying. And how many people have the practice of maintaining their ground? Vanishingly few in the West, at least.


I was glad that I was there with my friend because otherwise he would have had a very hard time. As it was, I could stay in my seat and continue meditating, being open and curious to what was arising. I could tell that this helped him and we sat there, holding hands, and watching, waiting, abiding in that austere nothingness.


What came next wasn’t much better. We found ourselves at the crossroads. It is becoming a familiar ‘place’ to me. Always midnight, it is a place of fog and shadows in the midst of a black wood. The trees are skeletal. The ground is full of withered vegetation. The soil is dry, white sand like powdered bone. Mist shrouds everything, though there is a soft, greyish light pervading everything.


At the crossroads a woman waited for us at the crossroads. Well, she appeared to be a woman at least. I sort of expected that she would be Hecate but her presence lacked any of Hecate’s warmth and heart. Again, pretty scary, especially for a young boy. She was wearing white and her face was shrouded with white lace. Underneath, she appeared to be an old woman. Not menacing but also not welcoming, she stood silently, regarding us.


The boy was not enjoying any of this. I’m sure he knew what this place represented and why we were there and he clearly wasn’t ready to let go of me. I told him not to be worried, that there is all the time in the world; he doesn’t have to do anything. Further, I reassured him that we were meant to be here; we would never have found ourselves here if we weren’t ready. We have to trust that what is needed is revealed at the right time. Besides, I was there for him and had no plans of abandoning him. In the end, it would be his choice when we parted, not mine.


This seemed to help a bit and he relaxed. I told him to simply let himself be, to allow everything to be just as it was. There was no rush; he was in charge. The essence of non-doing is that action arises at its time, not before and not after.


Something curious happened then. As I meditated, my ‘body’ became immense, powerful, immanent. I ‘owned’ this place, could feel my belonging here in my bones. It was my birthright, my inheritance. Further, it was the birthright and inheritance of all human beings. Even more, I could feel the hands of my ‘father’ on my shoulders, holding me there, giving me his blessing. By ‘father,’ I don’t mean biological father or even Divine Father. I mean the one who claimed so long ago in my past life when I was the boy who I refer to as Lucas. That boy, probably an epileptic who was prone to seizures that took him to other realms, had been claimed by one who called himself the Lord of Life and Death.


The soul of the boy (not Lucas but the recently deceased teenage boy who was with me and whose name I do not know) gazed upon my new form in wonder. It was clear this immensity was meant for him, not me. It was meant to soothe and comfort him, reassure him that he belonged here, too, and he had nothing to fear.


We stood there with the old woman, waiting. As I meditated, the immensity of my ‘body’ subsided and I became more and more transparent. I was still just as present as ever; it’s just my expression changed. The boy settled down and grew more confident. We stayed like that–meditating, simply being–until the end of my meditation. When the bell went off, I took my leave of him once again, although I could still feel his presence inside me. I wasn’t worried about him. I know he will be just fine.


***

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