• Heather

Spiritus Sanctus



Sansha had to find her way back to the Sophia, out of the depths of emotion from her feeling body, it was always an inside out, job.  Consistently.  Back to the observer state, understanding the dynamics of mind and behaviours playing out as a product of negative intertwined projections, to remind herself the power of love and the power of spirit could mend and soothe all hurts.

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Thorstar gazed out at the ocean - the timeless blue void captivating, beguiling him under the watery depths, he thought he heard a song.  A gentle melody from the seas.  From times before when he had reigned over the seas as Okeanos, with his beloved sister-wife at his side.  Guarding over their sea-nymph daughters he saw the same translucent crystal blue eyes, like Meesha, and her hands: they were webbed, encased around his power centre, entrapping, locked tight.  The eyes, as though he could see through them and yet he couldn’t look away, seducing his sailor-self in drunken heady dreams of opulence.  They were sad fathomless, almost vacuous, eyes telling their tragic tail of drowning from an abyssal absence of connection.  She was so good, and helpful and playful but also destructive and highly territorial, trickster energy always so ready to entangle with enchanted ways when the two-headed beast in him, allowed.  Her gift to him: a mirror to his underwater kingdom.  He remembered how the rains had not stopped when he as Okeanos, had lived married to Tethys in a slow dreamy drowning of each other as the chains weighed them down, forgetting, humans could not breathe under water.

The beast of burden within would not relinquish without struggle: the demiurge akin to a feriocious two-headed beast from the deep seas haunting Thorstar’s psyche.  Both calculating and charismatic, yet wild, feral and impulsive, offering transient bursts of freedom until the guilt, shame and failure to tame seeped back into mind.  The only way Thorstar could tame the wild fires that spewed forth from his firey breath was to distract them with his torch of a thousand suns alit from within, fuelling him forward as he sculpted and stripped his remaining walls bare.

Loki’s gift to Thorstar would take time to master.

Twice he had tried to knock off the heads of the ferocious beast from the depths, surfing over wave-tops at speeds that took breath away, the surf had swelled engulfing his raft and down he spiralled colliding with the hard rock of reality as he had tried to fly above in dismissive avoidance of the depths.  A reminder of his fall from Ducati, when the spirit would not awaken freely in the men of God, force was sometimes necessary.  The attack on his Mulhadra - heightening his fears of scarcity and danger of uncertainty.  The beast infiltrating with the fog of inadequacy imprinted upon his etheric body from the lack of maternal warmth through his infancy, allowing the grips of controlling forces of security in his life to take hold as a poor substitute for the love he sought.  His mistrust running so deep.

‘What is there to be certain of, Thorstar?’ Amara urged.  ‘Only, that you are capable.  That you are the leader of the pack for the new ways.’  She gifted him a deep blackish-red gemstone.  Sleep with this under your sheets to heal your connection to the eminence of cosmic creation, sit bare-backed on the earth: reconnect with her.

‘When a population moves through generations of warfare, financial uncertainty, environmental catastrophe and plagues of sickness of the body and mind: the trauma runs deep.  The schisms in our psyche fragment the purity and innocence of our innate joyful, loving nature and our interconnectivity with the richness in the tapestry of life.  The web of our body/mind/soul in connection to the cosmos is impinged upon by a ferocity of fear and confusion from the two-headed demiurge that lurks in the depths of our collective unconscious.  In essence, we are ripe for the taking.

The same way an absence, heated arguments or a violent exchange experienced in childhood (or indeed adulthood) can imprint upon the physiological and psychological functioning of an individual creating psychodynamic maladaption, so too do the ages of global disharmonies creep into a collective malfunctioning.  You are not alone, Thorstar, but you do understand more than most.’

Amara’s soothing sounds eased the tension from the double-headed daemon as she reminded him of his role to protect the gates of Asgard.  As he aligned himself with the rainbow bridge, the feeling body and his sharp mental focus. His daemons diminished and his perception shifted toward where Sansha had returned to.

It’s always been you, Sansha.  Since the first star split the black.  She felt him and she loved him and the love lifted her, powered her, to feel the passions of her path.  To walk the new way, a higher, a lighter way, her bare-feet kissing the earth .  Without fear.  It helped him, he had no more indecision, he saw clearly in his reflection, the wounded parts of himself that had kept him from trusting in his love.  And Sansha’s schizoid reflection healed as her perspective shifted, attuned with the frequency of the Gaels and the elixir of the Elder.

Like, Daniel, in the lion’s den of Babylon, Thorstar knelt and prayed in repentance offering his path in service to the greater unfolding of the end to a tumultuous evil age. In service to Alba, to the white fire in the hearts of people and the light within their eyes, as Yeshua taught.  As his name was written: ‘son of ‘ken’’zie’: ‘unique knowledge’.  He had been called.

To be free is to know thyself, to know thyself is to know spiritus sanctus, through uncoiling the serpent, freeing our internal suppression and lifting this light: the dove a-flight with diamond lighted wings.

© 2017 by Heather Gweneth Bird Yoga. Proudly created with Wix.com