Mind Mountains

This one is for Shafali….I dreamed about mountains the other night and it made me remember this poem;

Mind Mountains

I can see mountains

Beyond the distant trees:

Monumental alps

Snow-capped and stark.

Twig and branch

And budding leaf

Obscure my view,

Soften and distort it.

The spring wind blows

And my mountains

Scud along briskly,

Vapourous and thin,

Mere horizon clouds.

But there is a world

Beyond the confines

Of my daily life,

Filled with wonders:

Mountain, lake and forest,

Desert, tundra and sea

Await my searching mind

Beyond my garden fence

And my limited thoughts.

Seeing visions, Hamish Fulton and a stoat

This is intended as a response to J’s post over at: http://controlyourdestiny.wordpress.com/2010/03/12/attraction/ because I figured it was too long for a comment! Hopefully we can link them and it will all make sense.

I’ve experienced very similar things, of both finding myself interested, curious or almost magnetically attracted to someone almost without being aware it was happening. I’ve also been at the receiving end of it many times, with the whole loony on the bus scenario, though at times I probably am the loony on the bus. I wrote briefly about it here in a post entitled Negative Serendipity some while ago.

I’ve been interested in alternative spirituality for a long time, largely because of constant experiences of “strange phenomena” and I’d recommend a number of books to those curious about more. Barbara Ann Brennan’s books, Hand of Light and Light Emerging deal  with some of the mechanics of how the energy fields of people and animals interact in ways that are beyond the scope of this post to cover. Basically, we are all beings of light and how that light is seen and experienced on a subliminal level by others dictates to some degree how we interact. It also explains instant attraction(in all its forms) and that other phenomenon, instant repulsion.

I’ve been able to see the energy field of others off and on much of my life, though nowadays I actively try not to. It’s a bit like sneaking a peek into someone’s life story. I shut it down entirely for many years, at least the conscious awareness of it and it was only when I had a sequence of strange experiences some years ago that I began to find a balance between seeing and not seeing.

We used to visit the Sainsbury Gallery at the university of Norwich and one time we went there was an exhibition of the works of Hamish Fulton the walking artist. To be brief, it blew my mind. Canvases the size of half a house, simple images and photographs and brief, punchy words. I can’t describe how powerful  they all were, concentrated in a subterranean gallery. It was like walking out of a normal door and finding oneself on a mountain top in Tibet or outer Mongolia or the Cairngorms. It was like having the top of my head sliced off and having the wisdom of the cosmos poured in till it dripped down my neck. I walked out, punch drunk and dizzy and went to find somewhere quiet to absorb it all and as I sat I started seeing lights around the people in the gallery. I could see and understand who and what they were, where they came from, all from the lights around them.

The next day, I was still being flooded with knowledge. You might call it psychic impressions. I drove to the next town for Quaker Meeting and was awed by it all. I drove home and kept being given premonitions when a bird was going to fly in front on my car, so I’d slow down at that point and a pheasant would erupt from the hedgrow. I’d have mown down four if I hadn’t done that.

Subsequently I took a lot longer to get home. About three miles from my village I had a vivid vision of a stoat racing across the road, and I made a crucial decision NOT to slow down in anticipation.

Seconds later, a flash of reddish brown darted out in front of my car and I went straight over it.

I was driving a big Volvo at the time so there was no bump. I slammed on the brakes and leaped out. Back in the road lay a sad little scrap of fur, lying motionless in the middle of the road.

SHIT.

I ran up to the body and felt such awful remorse. I had been told quite clearly to slow down and I’d chosen to ignore it and now this animal was dead. At least I could move the body off the road to spare it the indignity of being mashed into the tarmac.

As I bent down to pick it up, the body quivered and as if touched by the finger of God, the animal leaped up, alive and unharmed. It had fainted with fear and my car had simply passed over it without touching it. The stoat stood up on her hind legs and chittered at me, loudly. It was quite clear I was being scolded and why.

I stood in the middle of a lonely country road, being told off by a stoat. She kept on at me and when another car came we both stepped onto the verge and she continued. I hung my head and said sorry over and over again as this little animal stood two feet away from me giving me the bollocking of my life.

Eventually it was over; she cleared off and I went home, chastened.

It’s stayed with me for a long time because it was such a powerful experience but also because I am still trying to understand quite how I can balance my gifts with the need to live in the normal daily world. Being able to see things that others can’t or don’t see is not easy because it brings up ethical questions as well as practical ones. I still need to work on this on a daily basis but I am slowly getting better at it and finding the right way between trusting those impressions, visions and instincts and not being ruled by them.

And I owe it all to Hamish Fulton and a stoat.