Tag: meditation

Connecting

lizaaitken

I sit here in our sunny spot, my mind connected to you.

The times we laughed, the joy we shared, it all comes pouring through.

The moments spent together here, will last forever more.

I tap into your spirit, close my eyes, go through the door.

I breathe in deep, let cares flood out, I sense you coming through.

I surrender now completely, what happens here is true.

You step a little closer now, glorious beyond the veil

In your amazing glory, no longer sick and pale.

Your smile so wide, your eyes so bright, I feel your love so strong

This place I come to often, you always come along.

I sit here in our sunny spot, we laugh, we smile, we know

That your only ever a thought away, I call and you will show.

Bluebell Woods

lizaaitken

It’s beautiful here in the woods, just like I remember. I’m walking along the path through the trees. I have to watch for the bumps in the path where the roots of the trees are lifting the earth, but it’s just wonderful. I feel privileged to be here in this very special place. If I look ahead I can see the light shining at the end of the trees, it’s probably where the sunlight hits the earth but it looks almost mystical from here where I stand.

Bluebells cover the ground all around for as far as I can see, a carpet of purple and blue. To my left I see a couple of figures collecting the flowers, when I look closer I realise I know them, I am the child, the other person my grandmother. I remember how happy the child is, how happy they both are, how special that day was. I have stored it perfectly in my memory all these years to return and visit it again today. I hear my other self giggle and wonder where that childhood innocence went. I believe today I must have reclaimed it as I managed to get here even if only in my sleep.

The trees that line the path bend gently in the breeze as if to greet me, leaves cover the path around the roots of the trees. Although discarded now at the end of their days they are still part of the trees that bore them and still remain part of the scene. They will eventually rot and feed the trees through the earth, the cycle of life.

I walk away from the couple, away from myself and away from the path to the left of the scene, towards what looks like a gentle hue in the distance. Where, it would seem, the sunlight has not discovered yet today. It looks peaceful and magical. There is a mist above the bluebells like early dawn and if I look really close I can see tiny specks like shimmering dust. I sit in this place for a while, I feel protected and safe, I think about my life.

I know I’m dreaming but also know I’m in control, I can create here, I can direct the outcome. I consider going over to the child and helping her collect bluebells, tell her she will remember the day forever. I could advise her on her future, tell her the pitfalls out there for her but I won’t because she needs to learn for herself, like me. I just watch contentedly, as she lives her special day, from the background.

I know I can’t stay but it feels so good to be here, I must go but I want to keep something from today. I look down to the floor of the woods to see what I can find, a stone catches my eye nestled in the soft grass. I pick it up and hold it in the centre of my palm to have a good look. The stone is green and it shimmers slightly, if I look closely it seems I can see inside, there are patterns beneath the surface that tell a story. I will take the stone home to remember my journey here. I slip it into my pocket, take one last look at the child with her grandmother and close my eyes.

I’m back in my bedroom, the birds are whistling in the sunshine and I can hear the engine of the school bus in the distance. It draws closer and stops outside to let my daughter off. She runs up the path with her arms behind her back, hiding something. When she reaches the porch where I’m waiting to greet her she produces a bunch of bluebells she has collected today on a nature walk. I hold her tight for a moment and kiss her tiny face in gratitude. We go into the house together to put the flowers in water. We put them on display on the window ledge, just next to the shiny green stone.

The Development Circle

lizaaitken

She found it really hard to close her mind to the outside world and just be in the moment. There was a shopping list running through her mind and she could see herself walking down the isle of the grocery store. She found these guided meditations really hard to stick at, it was terribly difficult to let go of life or was it just too frightening. She pulled herself back from the supermarket, lifting her gaze to look round the circle. There were seven of them in total, the others appearing to be at peace and following the guidance of the leader. Okay, where was she supposed to be, could she see the blue light in the circle, maybe if she turned it into tiny drops of water she could just see it.

Who was that outside in the hallway, maybe a latecomer but surely the door was locked. She brought her mind back to the group and mentally put the noise in the hallway into her invisible shopping bag along with the groceries. The medium leading the group was telling them to put the people they loved into the healing light in the centre. This bit was easier, there was her mum dancing without oxygen a big smile on her face and her eyes reflecting the blue of the room. Her dad smiling and waving his arms about showing jazz hands, and her nephew with his school bag dancing around them both. There was Kerry looking at peace, a smile on her face without the usual signs of childhood trauma, just looking happy. Jenny and Moira stood peacefully at the edge also watching the happiness of those still living. She put all her might into seeing these people and sending them the love and healing they needed.

It was time for the loved ones to leave and for her to step into the circle and receive healing herself, ask spirit for whatever she needed. She saw herself there, she made herself a little younger, slimmer and her hair just right and yes she was smiling. What did she need, maybe guidance, she asked spirit for direction, to help her find her path and stop jumping about in her life, she so needed to find her life purpose. She was alone in the circle even though all the members of the group were supposed to be with her. She looked up to the light and sent a prayer for help putting all her love into the request.

The door opened and a man walked into the room to join the group. From the centre of the circle she watched as he crossed the room and put his coat across a chair. She wondered what the medium would say about his late arrival but casting her eyes in that direction it appeared she didn’t mind.   The man smiled over at her and put a book down on her chair. It was green with gold leaf writing on the cover but from here she couldn’t read the words.

‘Okay when you are ready bring yourself back to the group’

She took a couple of breaths and slowly opened her eyes looking around the group. The man had gone of course, he was only in her imagination but his smile remained warming her inside. Sarah, the medium, asked how everyone felt and if anyone wanted to say anything. She smiled but didn’t want to tell the group about the man in her dream so remained silent.

It was a good evening at the development circle, they usually all had fun together. They practiced a couple of psychic exercises, some tarot and aura reading before closing the group and heading to the pub.

Saying goodnight to each other later that night, Sarah told her to think about the words on the book cover. She was amazed and asked Sarah if she had seen the man with the book. Sarah shook her head and said ‘I just know about the book, not everything but I know you will write one, you just need to see the title’.

The Journey

lizaaitken

The path was of red brick, it suggested a connection with the earth.  She trod lightly upon the path and yet her steps were purposeful, she needed to reach her destination.

She was looking down at the path, as she had been told to at the beginning of the journey, focusing just ahead and a little afraid to look up in case she lost her way and the path disappeared.  She watched and counted, as her feet stepped out beneath her believing, as she travelled that she was there.   As she began to feel at ease with her surroundings she widened her gaze to look outside of the path, lifting her head slightly, while at the same time ensuring the path remained within her vision.  A butterfly flew lightly by, enticing her from her path, to follow its beauty, for just a fleeting moment.  The butterfly flew on the breeze across a garden of country flowers to join other butterflies dusted across the landscape.  Her ears tuned themselves to the scene and brought with them gentle bird song to what had originally been silence.  About a foot in front she saw a peacock, its tail splayed proudly as it too walked the path.  She stopped to pick a lost and solitary feather from the path.

She had been told to look for a seat and there it was framed beneath the buddleia, the lilac of the tree casting a gentle hue on the wood.  The seat was an old tree trunk on its side to make a bench long enough for three people.  Although the trunk was old it shone in the sunlight as if highly polished and the surface had been flattened for sitting.  Rings on the yellow tinged wood suggested a great age and although no longer as part of a tree it looked healthy and alive.  Butterflies surrounded the tall buddleia tree so it appeared to be moving and amass with colours framing the seat beneath.

She sat on the seat, her feet just off the floor and waited as she had been told by her tutor.  Beside her there was her diary, she hadn’t brought this along it had been lost many years ago but she knew it was hers by the inscription.  Her grandfather had given the diary to her as a child, it held those precious childhood memories she had almost forgotten.  She lifted the book and read from the pages, her childhood scrawl, familiar and yet forgotten.  The passion and innocence of the child she once was joining her now all these years later.

Looking up she saw her grandfather, not the sick man she had last seen but a healthy smiling man.  He was standing next to another gentleman, he appeared to be Indian and wrapped in cloth, he appeared from looking at him, to be wise.  Her grandfather glancing once at the man at his side for permission, walked to join her on the bench.  He didn’t say anything as he joined her, just sat with her looking out at the beautiful garden and the wise man in the distance.   There was a remembered closeness between them that didn’t need words, a closeness that had been forgotten.

He held out his hand to her, a crystal shone in his palm.  Taking the crystal she looked into it and knew it represented a church and the learning within, there were no words.  The crystal was for her, she knew this and it would represent the journey yet to be travelled.  It signified all that was yet to be learnt, the possibilities ahead as well as the happiness and understanding these lessons would bring.

She looked up at him, a tear trickled down his face but the eye that it came from was smiling.  He stood up and without a word walked to join the man standing in the distance.  She knew that this man was his friend here and that he was also a teacher.  The crystal she held in her hands would hold some of his lessons, she felt the warmth from the stone.

She walked back down the path towards the wooden door she had entered from.  Her hand on the handle she turned to look once more into the garden but her grandfather was gone.

Opening her eyes slowly, she was back in the group, but she knew that the garden was easy to find again when she wanted to and she would certainly return.