Transformation

On one of my spiritual journey’s I ended up in very remote lands. Looking back, that was not unusual. I danced between excitement, attachment to outcome to then releasing and letting go to what was and that perhaps my path winded in a direction I could never imagine. I was very open to this and was in a state of wonder.
So, there I was, another plane trip and a 6 hour drive in the middle of no where with a stranger, although I felt so at home and that I’d known this soul for eons. 

When we arrived, the shades of night had fallen so I was unaware of my surroundings although too tired to ask. Apparently we might have had to walk into the sacred land depending on how much it had rained. I thought to myself at the time, “Seriously? I’ll sleep in the car, I’m not walking anywhere”. As it was, the rain spirits were kind and I only needed to walk half a dozen steps to then fall into one of the most peaceful sleeps I’ve ever had. When morning broke, I saw the medicine man whom I had been led to, walking back down the hill from the east. We drank tea and he showed me some books. Then he sang.

After he sang, a long silence settled on my heart and I found myself deep in a chasm somewhere inside. I recognised a longing that had grown wings, yet I had not voiced it until now. In less than 24 hours he had sung his way in there. I felt something crumble from me, like brittle pottery falling on these foreign lands that felt like home.
The winds started to whirl and play with the trees, creating a magnificent hushing sound. I closed my eyes and wandered with the whispers, every so often a depth of quietness would follow.
​We walked that day, around the fields, the breeze tickling the grasses causing them to move like waves in the ocean. Many moons ago the faces I then saw had made themselves known, and a peace came over me.
We paused at a sacred space within the sacred lands. And he began to talk about death. He had had my attention the entire time, however, the energy dropped into an entirely different space. I listened with my whole being. Once a spirit woman, and a dear friend spoke to me about death and the grace and delicate nature of holding this energy within the self and for others. As the medicine man spoke, my heart felt his words, yet a part of me was a little afraid. 
At that time I did not realise how long the dissolving would take. In other cases, there have been somewhat less painful changes, and in other times I have held onto something that I felt I needed to hang on to…for no logical reason. 
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What part of me had called to be transformed?
I didn’t question what was happening, because it was true in that moment.

When we finished our walk, I talked about seeing images for years that correlated to what he had said. One vision in particular of a dark space, with a spirit man dancing and painted black with white stripes on his body. A collection of bones lay in the foreground being the focal point. It was familiar terrain; the place that no one wants to go. I sit and listen. In this place I see a person whom I believed I had to be, disintegrate. I grow weary followed by a sense of relief.

It would be some time until this world was restored and rebuilt.
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I had heard stories about rebirth, change and transformation. I had had personal experiences. For many years it has often entered my dreams and startled me in the night. I had felt the energy of the symbolism, making it an intimate part of my life. Moving with the seasons and celebrating the changes of nature. The cycle of life, death and rebirth. It is a powerful energy indeed.
It is not unusual that there are moments of profound awakenings in these experiences. In these moments it’s like everything I’ve ever known falls away and that what I’ve come to know, doesn’t really mean anything at all. Within this not-knowing, there is unlimited possibility and great wonder.
Sometimes these transformations are self-initiated. I know that often this has been the case for me, and in all times of change, a messenger has appeared at the perfect moment delivering what needs to be delivered. It has been my choice to receive it or not. Other times a death can be ceremonial or ritualistic, dismantling what is ready to reborn.
In my experience, these times of initiation and great transformation have been somewhat out of my control. It’s not to say that I relinquish all control and take no responsibility, it’s quite the opposite. In those moments I have had to let go of control and surrender otherwise the chaos will perpetuate.
Even if consciousness isn’t fully awakened around the processes (and it usually isn’t, hence the initiation!), I feel there is most definitely a part of the self that is aware and that part brings one through the other side. 

I knew as we stood in the fields that my life would never be the same. I had shown up. I was present, I was listening. More of me was braving the unknown and loving the edge.
Although there was a certain amount of ambivalence, the message was true and I had traveled half way around the world to fully embrace it. What was to come was some immeasurable challenges, yet the adventure of remembering has been greater and has offered me the gift of profound compassion and appreciation.
Skimming the surface of something such as this isn’t an option. To think that one can run from it, is also fable. It takes as long as it’s meant to and reaching the moment of bare-boned candor usually isn’t the most glamorous time in one’s life. 
In these moments I feel like I’ve become lucid, that the entire world can see through me. I don’t feel at my sparkliest, I don’t have my hair made-up, I’m not wearing my favourite heels. My feet are bare, my body is bare; I’m as bare as the day I was born, nothing more, nothing less.
Some of the most powerful experiences in my life have been in these moments of transformation. The darkest parts, are a test of my courage, of immense trust and surrender. Those times are priceless, almost otherworldly, because what blooms forth is something purely magical.

© Laura Naomi  

Article written by Laura Naomi for: Crossroads Healing Magazine

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