Commentary by Susan Nidle


May 11, 1998

      The Mother of Dark Blue Skies

     Deep in the odd corner of my room, nearest to my heart,
     a blue beaconlight is shining,

     Her glowing face
     Smiling at me, her warm angularity gleaming
     in the dimness.

     But her soft heart is never hidden by her form.
     She is present always,

     Her luminous blueness connecting us

     The bridge’s strength existing

     Even when I am turning away from her light.


Feeling more easily unbalanced lately, more disrupted, sensing that feeling of imminent upheaval? Many around here seem to be on the verge...emotionally at least. Actually, mine is sort of quiet at the moment...(!)

      Dissolving relationships, physical bodies being touched by profound illness, children in rapid transition, etc., seem to be the norm. And notice all of the earthquakes, mudslides, and tornadoes which seem to reflect on a physical earthly level this general feeling of chaos. But, through it all, we seem to be able to continue to function, and to find our levels.

      Time seems particularly compressed to me lately. What I mean is, “long ago and far away” symbols and people keep intruding on my thoughts and meditations. Especially those of early Egypt and Sumeria, Crete and ancient Palestine, as if they had occurred last Friday...

      These images center on mostly Egyptian scenes and beings dressed in ancient garb, their inner and outer blueness shining. We walk on the desert at night, with the full moon a bright orb above and the buildings around us starkly illuminated in the clear starry blue night.

      When I was a child, we two sat by the window in the hallway and peered at the night sky endlessly, craning our little necks to see every movement in the sky. Rarely disappointed, we knelt, fascinated by the goings-on in the middle of the dark night. No one else cared but us.

      And in the gentle blue dim fuzzy lightness of the new dawn, my body would land, almost with a thud, back in bed. I would be staring at the ceiling, suddenly aware of my tiny room. How did I get there? Who knew? Not I. I would fall asleep crying softly, disappointed at the harsh morning light that revealed the angles and lit the shadows. In this daylight world, with its corners and its black and whiteness, there was precious little room for shadows and mystery and deep beautiful bluenesses.

      I don’t know, but nowadays, I think it is time for it all to come streaming back for a lot of us. I get e-mail from slightly upset, seemingly confused people who describe visits with beings who are not distinct, and who do not come and carry them away but, rather, transport their souls and touch them in sweetly mysterious and almost loving ways.

      All I can say is that there is much out there and around us in the middle of the night of our consciousness. Why do we have to hold onto fear, why not welcome it all as a sign that we are opening to the deeper aspects of the universe? The mystery\music of the night?

In the (approximate) words of the ancient Goddess chant,

     “Know the Mystery, that if that which you
     seek, you find not within, you
     will never find it without ..
     For behold, I have been with you from the
     beginning. And I await thee now.”

Record your dreams, let your mind wander into the lightness of your self and reflect on all the possibilities.

Lightly,
Susan

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