It all built up on Friday, when I realised that I couldn’t get out of Bath (to get out of this mess that I’d got in my head and to just stream away with the road to friends in the depths of a frozen forest). It all did, and I’m talking absolutely everything (including THAT, I mean EVERYTHING).
I walked down the hills towards town – icy as they were, my bearings felt solid – at the evening time. I got to the bus station, saw that the display showed the bus that I was due to get as only going half the distance I needed to go, and sat and ate my falaffal wrap that I had made in preparation for it all. Within a couple of minutes, an announcement was made regarding the bus situation, which clarified that I would not be going to stay with my friends. I sat in peace with my wrap. It was delightful, and somehow everything just seemed fairly solemn.
I slowly ventured back out into the snow and sub-zeros. I decided to check the HMV skip, for I had heard about the company going bust so assumed that their skip would be full of crazy amounts of things that I probably wouldn’t take, but which would be gape-worthy due to the sheer ridiculousness of their consumption value. They get consumed for a short time, or sometimes not at all, and then get thrown into landfill, into the ground where they release toxic fumes in decomposition and take millions of years to properly bind with the soil again.
But alas, it was not so. Instead, I found a huge woolen hoodie, some woolen hand puppet gloves, and a woolen beaver hat. I put the jumper and gloves on, as it was cold.
I trod myself, over time, up to Victoria Park, where I had been lured to naturally. It was stuffed with fluffy snow, the kind that is warm to hug.
I knew I needed to find some place to sit, and perhaps to meditate. I searched. And I searched. And I searched.
I walked on, and on, and on.
Towards the end of one part of the park, I found a trail going off to the left. I soon found a tree, a very special tree which was the exact tree that I felt I had in my vision that had lured me up to this place.
I rubbed the snow off a low stocky branch, and climbed up onto it. I rested my back against it, whilst using another branch as support.
Within minutes, a miracle arrived. My energy was being channeled through this tree, loving as it was.
I stayed with everything as it happened for what seemed like decades. It all went through me, as Jonah went through the Whale.
When I came back to the tree, and the body, and the moment right then, I could already see around me without opening my eyes. Everything was crisp, was gentle, but racing.
I then walked over towards Oldfield, but couldn’t resist the temptation of going in that cemetary again that I hadn’t been in in a year. THAT cemetary. I hopped the fence, and there I was. It was snowy, it was solemn.
The graves looked on at me as I sifted through. I got to the chapel at the end, and it was full of messages but none that used language. I walked around and around it, slowly. Then off to another part of the cemetary where I was meant to go. And around other parts of the cemetary. I noticed that I was the only person that had been in the cemetary all day. No other footsteps, except for those of a small animal.
I hopped out, and made out to Oldfield.
By chance, (or not, Oldfield is notorious for this), I got lost and went down a road vaguely in the direction of home. The end of the road was 4 doors down from Alex’s house. It was, as they say, meant to be.
And it was.
The next days have been a flow of everything that came about on this night. Wonders, explorations, energy moving freer than it had done in months.
And my blooming goodness, there is so much of it.
Originally from: http://sisinvincible.livejournal.com/117072.html on January 21, 2013, 22:05.