Personal Gnosis on Himinglava UPG
Sunday August 1st 2010
Well, don’t I feel silly now! I’m at a Pagan festival, recovering from my own idiocy. You see, I met someone who totally creeps me out today. I’d met him before years ago, but he didn’t have nearly this level of ick. This is a rare thing, I like pretty much everyone, and the rest I’m just indifferent to. But for whatever reason, he makes my skin crawl. I thought it was just me, so I asked. No, he creeps everybody out too. Weird. But that’s not the stupid thing I did. No, what I did is put up my most impermeable psychic shields to keep the ick out. Imagine being inside a plastic bubble. Nothing gets in, nothing gets out. You’re totally safe from everything. That’s good.
Except when you forget to take it off.
I couldn’t figure out why I felt so weak. I thought it was mild sunstroke. I lay down on the ground during a workshop, trying to rest, which only helped a bit. Then at the end, the speaker suggested we all connect to the earth. It was then I realized I couldn’t reach out and feel the earth energy beneath me, not one little bit. Why not? There’s a barrier. What barrier? Oh. The plastic shields. Doh!
I took them down and started to feel better, though it was a few hours before I was completely back to normal. I’d done this before, years ago. Your energy body, it breathes. But like with air, if you’re in an impermeable bubble, you soon end up with little breathable air, stewing and choking in your own psychic excrements. That’s bad. I suspect the shields would fail before it could kill you, but still, it’s really unpleasant. That’s why I’d stopped using that kind of shield years ago, about three days after discovering how to make them. Three very miserable days, I might add.
On the upside, this means I’m still good at maintaining shields without thinking about them. And since I got weak so fast, they were probably even more effective than they were back then. So, note to self, only use them for a SHORT duration, preferably with a half hour maximum lifespan, and only in emergencies. Geeze.
Now, this isn’t exactly about mermaids, but when something magically important happens near an offering to Them, I pay attention, in case it’s relevant. I think this is relevant. At any rate, I limped my way to the river, feeling very foolish, and not at all feeling up to meeting a sea goddess. I suppose this kind of self imposed isolation also relates to last week’s meeting with Kolga, the undine of loneliness.
I brought my offering kit to the river that runs along the campgrounds of this Pagan fest. Originally, I thought I’d have to delay my weekly offering until I got home. But looking at a map, I realized it was a river that drained into another river, then the St-Lawrence, then the sea. Excellent, problem solved! Just call on Blodughadda’s river connecting power through Her spirit song, and I can have a direct line to the sea and the 9 sisters. But it’s never that easy.
Yes, Blodughadda’s song connects the rivers and the sea. But it seems the signal gets progressively weaker. As I sang, I saw a mermaid approach, but She was far more transparent than the others had been. And given that this is spirit-sight, it was pretty see-through to begin with. I felt like I was talking to one of those Star Wars holograms. Yeah, She was there, but the signal was weak. Perhaps it was just that I was weak myself, but I don’t think so. They’ll come, but the further removed from the sea, the fainter They appear, and the harder it is to talk to Them.
I introduced myself after going into the water, and thanked Her for coming. She was smiling, looking rather pretty, auburn haired, and I guessed first it might be the spirit of the river itself… wrongly. Then I guessed Himinglava. Hey, second guess isn’t so bad. Either She didn’t have much to say, or I couldn’t hear well. I made my offering, and She told me to go to the right, where all the weeds were growing in the water. The offering I gave was a banana, in addition to the usual 9 drops of blood.
“What do you see?” She asked.
I looked around. Trees. A calm river. A pleasant sunset. Smoke rising from the cooking fires. People talking at their sites. It was very tranquil, peaceful, enjoyable to look at. The water was very refreshing after the hot day, and I was feeling better. I just enjoyed the scenenery, the place.
And I noticed a tickling on my legs. Bubbles were coming up from among the weeds. I thought it was air bubbles, floating up. I wondered if it was from the fishes, of which I could see a few now and then. I thought about how nice it would be to have air like that if I was under water. That just one breath could save one’s life. I thought of this as “the saving breath,” that one breath that keeps you alive when you just can’t go on anymore. It tickled my legs pleasantly, and I was fascinated, watching those bubbles come up, and pop. Eventually, She let me know it was time to go. I thanked Her and left, a bit disappointed that I hadn’t learned very much from Her. Well, at least She’d given me permission to use Her spirit song. That’s still something.
Then again, maybe being able to look around and appreciate what’s around you was the whole point. Joy isn’t something that happens to you, like a pigeon’s droppings falling upon your head. Joy is something you just notice, and that makes you smile, or something that happens, and you take the time to enjoy it. Fair weather doesn’t do any good if you don’t bother to notice it.
Later that week…
My friend ditzed out and missed our departure for a second fest, and I was very sad that he couldn’t join us. I offered that sorrow to Hevring, sung the chorus of Her spirit song, honored my feelings of sadness, and prayed to be able to learn from this. I realized that there was a reason why my friend couldn’t come. The timing of missing him was just too perfect, he called during the only 5 minutes of the day where I wasn’t in my apartment, from a phone with a blocked number. I think Someone thought he shouldn’t go, and I made peace with that. Then, I decided to try singing Himinglava’s song. And what do you know, singing Himinglava’s song did lift my spirits quite a bit. I expected to be all mopey when I reached my other travel companion, but I was in good spirits by the time I got there.
I don’t think the song would have worked if I hadn’t taken the time to honor my sorrow first. It’s not for getting rid of bad feelings. Rather, it’s to move on once you’ve worked through them.
At some later date, I was just really bouncy and full of joy. I thought of Himinglava and in gratitude for Her help, earnestly offered some of my joy to Her. It’s the strangest thing, because my joy actually did vanish! I tried to call up the good feelings I’d had, the memories that had brought on those feelings, but it just wasn’t the same. I had actually given that spark of joy away, and it was gone. She can apparently take joy as well as give it. And I do have the ability to give away feelings that way to another being. How interesting.
You know what, I got nothing. Find your own meditation on how joy comes and goes in your life.
Hail Himinglava, Fair Weather Undine!