©A L Folberth 1996 HalfWolfie@AOL.com
Permission granted for personal use only.
This is a guided meditation I wrote and led for Imbolc. It is designed for a group. A single candle is placed in front of the reader so it may be read in the dark.
This is a guided meditation. It is also called path working. It is a spiritual journey created by imagination. In a relaxed state, we can touch a side of ourselves that we may ignore in ordinary life.
We begin the meditation with relaxing. Stretch and move around until you are comfortable. This meditation will last no more than 15 minutes, Don’t worry about shifting position once we start. It’s your body’s way of telling you that the circulation is slowing down. If you are uncomfortable, you can’t concentrate. At the end of this meditation, I will ring a bell to let you know that it is over.
(Speak slowly and pause often)
Remember the flame in front of you and hold the image in your mind. Close your eyes. Now breath in deeply through your nose and slowly exhale through the mouth three times. Let your muscles relax, feel them settling against each other. Imagine your feet turn to stone. They should feel as heavy as granite. Imagine your ankles turning to stone. Your legs are starting to feel like great rocks sitting softly in the earth. Let them turn to stone too. The stone moves up to your hips and you feel settled. The weight of the body is turning to stone. Feel it settle and relax, Let it go. The weight of your body no longer tugs at you. Let it go. Your arms turn to stone and rest like fallen branches on the earth. As your shoulders, neck and head turn to stone, you realize that you are one. You are stone and solid. There is only peace and darkness.
The darkness seems to go forward. There is a depth that you reach out to. You touch it with your mind and the darkness seems to clear. As things begin to focus, you squint your eyes and find yourself in a snow covered forest. You feel no cold and yet the trees are bedecked in icicles. There is no sound save that of your own breath. There is no wind. The very air seems to have frozen. When you stand up and look around don’t see any sign from which way you came. The only footprints are the ones you are making now as the snow crunches beneath your feet. You reach down and pick up a powdery handful of snow. It melts in your hand and feels lightly cold. You drop the snow and brush it off on your legs. The sky is overcast in a soft gray and it seems to be getting on toward dusk.
There is a path a few yards ahead, so you make your way towards it. It is not much wider than a deer trail, but it is better than stumbling over rocks and logs hidden by the snow. As you walk along the path, you still notice the odd silence around you. The sky seems to have gotten a bit darker and you walk more quickly down the path. Low stones seem to be placed at the sides of the path and grow in size as the paths winds along larger rocks. You reach a stone outcropping that surrounds the path on both sides. It gets higher and higher until it reaches far over your head. Bluish green icicles hang from it’s edges and down it’s sides like a frozen waterfall. As you stop to admire it, you have the oddest feeling that you are being watched. You listen and again hear nothing. Off in the distance though, you could have sworn that you heard a tinkling, like chimes blowing in the wind.
You think to yourself, “Maybe I am imagining things”, and move onward.
The path now winds down a hill , it zigs and zags along a dried river bed. At it’s bottom, there is a boulder balanced on five stones. You notice that there is no snow covering it’s top and what looks like a small flame, like a candle’s. You’re startled when it moves in mid air. It comes toward you and hovers. Every time you move towards it, it moves with you and stays just out of reach. The flame then moves to the embankment and dances over it. It looks almost as it stone steps had been placed in it’s side. You climb up it, and as you peer over the edge, you see a great forest. The trees seem to be as ancient as they are large. Their bark is gnarled and look somewhat like giants reaching up to the sky. The flame grabs your attention again as it flits over a sunken path in the snow. It still matches your pace step for step. As you look directly at it, it seems to change colors to a soft yellow. It has grown in size as well. At first it has been a small flame and now it is as large as your fist. You follow it to an immense briar patch. Then the flame suddenly bursts forth like a blossom and then fades before your eyes. You reach the air where it was and it feels very warm. The briars are the first bit of green you have seen in this lonely forest. It’s spurs are very real, you notice, as one grabs at your clothing. Peering through the tangle, you can just make out light on the other side. Looking down, you see an opening large enough to fit under. There is definitely light coming from the other end. Curious, you decide to investigate. The snow from it’s branches falls onto you as you push through.
As you wipe the snow from your face, you see a beautiful young woman dressed in a white tunic. Her hair is long and as red as a sunset. Small fires, like the one that led you here, hover above you in a circle around the briars. The briars are fully leafed and their black berries shine like dark purple garnets. The light of the flames play across her exquisite features. She begins humming to herself, sitting beside a frozen pond. She reaches out to it and it melts at her touch. Then she looks directly at you. Her green eyes are deep and hold your full attention so well, that you hardly notice her speaking.
“I’ve been waiting. Not too many make it this far or try at all. Ah! You must be tired and thirsty after your travel. Here, sit beside me and have a drink.” She pulls out a goblet from behind her, dips it into the water and offers it to you. She smiles and says, “Go ahead, it will make you feel better.”
The strain in your legs, from the long walk, leaves and you feel a warm glow run through your body. All of your senses feel alive and sharp.
“Don’t speak. I know why you are here even though you do not yet. You did very well child.”
You bristle at the word, “child” and she smiles. She continues, “You are all children to me. Newborn buds on a great oak and songbirds in the sky. I was here long before you could ever be. I am Brid, but do you even yet know who you are?” She seems to notice your confused look and then points to the pond. “Look into the water and you see both our reflections, don’t you? Through me you will see your true self, realize dreams that you have never dreamt and songs that have yet to be sung. All the arts are mine as thread is to be spun. It is up to you to weave. I am the fire of inspiration. If you need to look for me, I shall not be any farther away than your own heart.”
She looks at the pond again as it starts to frost over and says, “Brave one, it is time for you to go. Do not forget the time that you spent here. I will be watching. “Affectionately, she places her hand on your cheek and with a tear in her eye she whispers, “Do well.”
You find yourself in the darkness again. There is light at it’s end. You walk your way to it’s end and it feels very familiar.
Let you body awaken and your eyes open. You are back in the room.
This is not the end but a new beginning.