This time of year, with the dried herbs and the bottles of oil and tinctures, always reminds of my first experiences with a medicine man and the making of medicines.
His name was Charlie Beam. Not Charles, and no middle name or initial, just Charlie Beam. He came from PA Dutch and German descent and he was a veterinarian, a mid-wife, and the only type of doc around for miles in the Mount Nebo community for several years. All this back in the time when miles were a lot longer than they are today.
He had a little jenny linn style shanty which served as his office with a big pot belly stove right in the middle. He lived beside a sandy lane which later became Route 19 which even later became old Route 19. Every summer I would get to go and stay on his little homestead, at least between my years of 5-12. I was 12 in 1966 when he passed on at the age of 91.
He would sit me down, along with a couple cousins who lived nearby, in a circle of chairs around the stove and place 2 gallon amber glass jugs on our laps. This also back in a time of my age when 2 gallon jugs were a lot bigger than they seem today.
He would add ingredients to that jug at various times and we'd have to roll them on our laps continuously for 10 minutes between each ingredient added and then another hour after the last ingredient was added. Most times this was at least a 2 hour process as he turned out horse liniments and stomach medicines and in separate processes, healing oils and salves and herbal concoctions of every sort imaginable.
His timekeeper, paymaster, and enforcer of general rules of order was Spot. Spot was part beagle and probably part a lot of other things, but predominately he was clothed in a coat of black and brown spots over a white background. He would lie in the circle facing us with his head resting on his front paws, his eyes following the movements of Charlie Beam, of us doing the shaking, and occasionally rolling up toward the top shelf in the left corner of the shanty. That's where payday was located until the end of the process. Payday was always Red Band Vanilla Stick Candy and it was greatly enjoyed every time including a stick for Spot. Spot would always remind Grandad if he was a little too slow in reaching for it after we were finished with the work.
Spot didn't speak English but he could certainly talk medicine. It didn't matter what anyone showed up needing all they had to say was the word and Spot was off toward the shelf or barrel that the answer was in. If they said, "My child has a very high fever," he was off to the barrels with the salty dough, urging grandad to get a poultice fixed for their feet. If someone came in and said, "my cow has had a prolapse," Spot was off toward the stitching bag and ointment shelf. Whatever the need was, he just heard the word and he knew the process and where it was all located.
Spot and Charlie Beam worked like that together for years, they were inseparable in all things and totally had 'all things in common.'
Except in one certain instance. There was only two words that could separate them and get Spot out of the shanty when we were all making medicine.
"Dog Wormer."
It was a paste located on the bottom shelf and well within Spot's reach. But just mention the word and he was out the door like greased lighting and it would be several minutes before he'd come sneaking back in, tail hanging low, quieter than a church mouse.
Spot only lived a few weeks past grandad and when they passed an awfully lot of knowledge and wisdom of healing left the planet with them. I have attempted since to retain as much of that knowledge as possible, but really wish that at that early age I'd have know to notice and ask more.
Monday, January 23, 2012
Friday, January 20, 2012
Thursday, January 19, 2012
How the Faeries Got Me Back to WV - Part 5
It started as a dream anyway, I suppose .... then I was awake for part of it, I suppose. Seriously. I have this little light on a short stand beside my bed. It's one of those touch lamps where if you touch it three times it keeps getting brighter and then the next touch turns it back off.
About two o'clock in the morning I wake up enough to notice that the light is on and I reach over, turn it off, and then close my eyes again. A minute or so later it's back on again, on the dimest setting, and as I reach over to turn it back off it goes up the two notches brighter. Then I see this little brown fella standing by the lamp tapping it with his finger.
That's when I look over to see if I can see Kate, to see if I can see the furniture and walls that I know are in the room, to try and determine if I am actually awake or in some kind of really lucid dream. The door of the bedroom was open and I sat up in bed looking out to the living room and had just decided that I must be awake, everything was where I knew it to be, when I felt the bed move abit and noticed another little brown man had sat down on the side of the bed next to me. Two others stood quietly at the foot of the bed, mostly watching the little guy who was so intriqued by the light and kept running it up and down, on and off, through the stages.
I don't scare easy at all, at least not of things that you'd commonly think you should be spooked of. I tend to have a much more quizzical/comical approach to everything. In my travels I'd seen so many off the wall events that this felt more like getting back to 'normal' for me than anything else.
The little man on the bed was holding several medium dark brown papers in his hand of what appeared to be sketches or blueprints of something. There were alot of numnbers, letters and symbols, some of which I was familiar with, some not, and they were arranged into some form of wheel. It actually reminded me of a flower, like a daisy's petals would be, except it was all in muted shades of brown and black. And parts of it I could barely make out, there were areas that were very faded.
He pointed at one such place and said, "It's getting very hard to see, some of this we can't keep moving for much longer."
I asked him what it was and he said that it is the codes to all living things, the numbers that keep it all in balance. That immediately reminded me of a dream nearly twenty years before and a riddle that had appeared in that dream that had started the whole journey/study thing for me.
About two o'clock in the morning I wake up enough to notice that the light is on and I reach over, turn it off, and then close my eyes again. A minute or so later it's back on again, on the dimest setting, and as I reach over to turn it back off it goes up the two notches brighter. Then I see this little brown fella standing by the lamp tapping it with his finger.
That's when I look over to see if I can see Kate, to see if I can see the furniture and walls that I know are in the room, to try and determine if I am actually awake or in some kind of really lucid dream. The door of the bedroom was open and I sat up in bed looking out to the living room and had just decided that I must be awake, everything was where I knew it to be, when I felt the bed move abit and noticed another little brown man had sat down on the side of the bed next to me. Two others stood quietly at the foot of the bed, mostly watching the little guy who was so intriqued by the light and kept running it up and down, on and off, through the stages.
I don't scare easy at all, at least not of things that you'd commonly think you should be spooked of. I tend to have a much more quizzical/comical approach to everything. In my travels I'd seen so many off the wall events that this felt more like getting back to 'normal' for me than anything else.
The little man on the bed was holding several medium dark brown papers in his hand of what appeared to be sketches or blueprints of something. There were alot of numnbers, letters and symbols, some of which I was familiar with, some not, and they were arranged into some form of wheel. It actually reminded me of a flower, like a daisy's petals would be, except it was all in muted shades of brown and black. And parts of it I could barely make out, there were areas that were very faded.
He pointed at one such place and said, "It's getting very hard to see, some of this we can't keep moving for much longer."
I asked him what it was and he said that it is the codes to all living things, the numbers that keep it all in balance. That immediately reminded me of a dream nearly twenty years before and a riddle that had appeared in that dream that had started the whole journey/study thing for me.
There was a world
Mathematically conceived
Geometrically consumed
And Lyrically replaced.
And a decision..
Calculate..
Measure
~or~
Sing.
He disappeared then, the room returned to dark, and I drifted back into sleep ....and there she was. The person I'd seen by the waterfall back at Terra Nova in North Carolina. She identified herself this time, said her name was AisLinn Fae, that she was the Guardian and Keeper of the Dream. And she repeated the same question that she'd asked at the falls ..Dare We Dance the Faerie Dream?
She told me that "The Pammy" would dream a very important dream that night and that she would no doubt be contacting me soon. I hadn't seen Pammy in months, even well over a year and I remember thinking I should maybe call or head up that way soon.
The talk continued for quite sometime in the dream and we got to the subject of creation and I asked her about the big "Bang" theory and how the world was created. And she replied that yeah, you could call it a big bang, that part was correct, but then she laughed and said, "that was when the tarot deck was created."
"Tarot Deck?" I asked and she laughed some more and said, "You don't think your world is the only thing out there do you, like not everything is about you and your world."
This continued through most of the night and then she said, "I believe it is time that you hear a real Faerie tale; let me tell you one." And she began,
"Once upon a before time there was forever ...
and that was about all ..."
She giggled more and added, "well All, except the possibility of everything. But everything was about to run out of forever."
Day came and went, another day of unpacking, sorting and assembling and another night came, exhausted, still sick, I slipped thankfully between the covers and drift off to sleep. At some point in the night I am awakened by a smell and a feeling. The smell of warm, moist earth, very old earth, full of the decay of leaves and woody plants; the presence to the left of my bed, dark, and no sight of anything.
I asked, "Who are you, what do you want?" And a voice answered that literally sounded older than time. A female voice, low and crackly, "I am Brialla, and you have a job to do similar to mine should you choose to accept it."
I asked her what it was but she didn't answer that part, only mentioned that I needed to apply myself if I were going to be her son, and then the last thing I heard her say as the smell of old earth begin slowly to fade from the room was .." write it down lest ye forgit it."
I layed there a bit in the darkness thinking how in all my studies I hadn't heard that name before and how I should go in to my desk and write it down because often by next morning I have forgotten dreams and names before.
But next time I opened my eyes it was daylight and as I made my way towards the coffeepot in the kitchen, I noticed a sheet of my notebook lying on my desk and on it one word scrawled in very old looking writing ... Briallison.
I'm going to end the How the Faeries got me to WV writing at this point and start a new subject and name, Dare We Dance the Faerie Dream, but I will add this before I go.
Two morning later there was a knock at my door and there stood The Pammy. I've never thought to ask her when we're together how she even knew we were back in WV or how she knew that we'd be there in that apartment, but she held in her hand a picture that she said she had drawn from a dream a couple nights ago and she said that the person in the dream had told her to bring it to me, that I'd know the story.
It was a picture of AisLinn Fae, precisely as I'd remembered and would be the first of 23 or so such experiences over the next several months of stories dreamed and pictures drawn by the Pammy as the Faerie Dream began to unfold before our eyes......
Tuesday, January 17, 2012
How the Faeries Got Me Back to WV - Part 4
For the next couple weeks back home in Asheville there were still many troubling thoughts about my future ... about what I would be doing next ... about home. I had just finished the months long process of editiing for my book, Song of the Forbidden Mountain in September of '01 and now here it was late May of '02 and I had no idea what would be next.I made my rounds of the coffehouses and cafes where I had spent so much time while writing and I visited the Earth Fare Store and spent hours looking at the looms and leather, the spinning wheels and carving tools.
I spent a lot of time reflecting on the times we'd had back in West Virginia, it had been home for a long time too, could it still be partly true? Then came the morning in early July that I was quietly sitting in Malaprop's sipping coffee and having another infamous Peanut Butter and Blackberry Jam toasted Croissant, still pondering the question of what was next and where exactly was home, when in walked Kimi Moore, a muscian/writer and very good friend. He walked up behind, laid both hands on my shoulders, and out of the blue said, "Wild, it's the land that is calling you."
While home might be a question at times, there is only one place on earth where the land speaks to me, to my very core. So I got up and walked down the sidewalk besides Malaprop's toward the parking garage and noticed that someone had spray painted "Go Home!!" on the side of the garage. We put our place up for sale in West Asheville, it sold within weeks and by late August we were temporary residents at Super 8 in Summersville.
By mid September we'd signed a one year lease/purchase option on a store building in Richwood, the town where both Kate and I had been born and spent our early years, and had set up a bookstore. In the next ten months though about the customer that we had was one small child that loved horse stories and that Kate and I couldn't dare charge for the "chapter books," as she called them.
But three great things happened while we were there, and I list them in the order in which they happened.
Although there were no local book sales happening we met a local artist of marketry who also happened to be a book collector and former bookstore employee in eastern North Carolina. He had literally thousands of fine non-fiction books on about every subject imaginable and he was wanting to sell about half of them. In the process of listing his books online on a commission basis, and in addition to being able to add to our own collection of books, we formed an Amazon and AbeBooks online sale site and were shipping a goodly armload of books daily; enough to keep the lights on and beans on the table.
Second, we met "The Pammy." Pamela Z. Neal is barely five foot tall, is the closest model of a walking/talking faerie I'd ever seen, she's beautiful and posseses the finest, sweetest spirit imaginable. And she can draw pictures practically beyond my ability to breathe while looking at them.
She came in one evening in late fall and in her quiet fae voice wanted a job. Even with the online shipping at the time we couldn't afford an employee but in the weeks to come we made a very good and lasting friend. By early spring we'd inherited a bookstore cat named Dicey from our college faring daughter, and when Pammy stopped next time to adore the cat, we were finally able to give her several months work, as well as Dicey, upon our closing the store.
The third thing that happened was I met the singers. I'd played bass in a group before and drums, but on the six string acoustic guitar, I was barely a rythymn player. A few standard chords was as far as I could go. There wasn't much happening at night in Richwood, so I'd lie down on a bed in the back of the store and lay a six string Yamaha across my chest and strum as much as I knew how.
And one night, I kept thinking I could hear singing in the background. And I'd asked Kate, who was writing up in the front of the store at the time if she was singing. And she'd say no. The music was literally out of this world, it was beautiful, and sounded to be a near all male chorous. I discovered that if I really relaxed I could take off playing right along with those songs and found myself going places on that guitar neck where I'd never been.
Stories and images began to form with those songs and different nights held different songs and moods and I noticed a story begin to unfold and that I could follow this story where ever it happened to lead, and still be lying in the back of the store.
Later I was to learn more about the faerie singers, the keepers of story from the beginning of time, but for now I believed that I'd found what we came back for, as I found that I could connect to these singers anywhere that I went with that guitar.
So after a lot of discussion about moving on, and whether to move back where we'd been (I seem to usually have this thing about only moving on, not back, lol) for whatever reason other than we'd never been there before, we loaded all the books in a U-Haul and with the little pick-up on a trailer behind, landed in Berea, KY.
Nice town, very cool college, stocked several more books, but not really possessing any feeling of "home" for either of us. Still had the faeries singing, but I missed a lot of the things that were familiar to me, so after only three months there, we loaded a UHaul again, hauled all the books to a warehouse in Asheville, and the next year was pretty much a repeat of scenario above before we'd ever left Asheville the first time.
The faeries were singing and I was learning and taking notes like crazy, but that other thing was happening too ... 'Go Home!!"
Finally, leaving the book business in the care of a friend, we loaded up one more time. A writer friend in Summersville had a mother-in-law apartment on their house on Power Plant Road. We arrived one morning, began to unload and unpack, and way late that night, exhausted and sick, finally headed to bed.
And that night I had a dream .....did I ever have a dream .......
I spent a lot of time reflecting on the times we'd had back in West Virginia, it had been home for a long time too, could it still be partly true? Then came the morning in early July that I was quietly sitting in Malaprop's sipping coffee and having another infamous Peanut Butter and Blackberry Jam toasted Croissant, still pondering the question of what was next and where exactly was home, when in walked Kimi Moore, a muscian/writer and very good friend. He walked up behind, laid both hands on my shoulders, and out of the blue said, "Wild, it's the land that is calling you."
While home might be a question at times, there is only one place on earth where the land speaks to me, to my very core. So I got up and walked down the sidewalk besides Malaprop's toward the parking garage and noticed that someone had spray painted "Go Home!!" on the side of the garage. We put our place up for sale in West Asheville, it sold within weeks and by late August we were temporary residents at Super 8 in Summersville.
By mid September we'd signed a one year lease/purchase option on a store building in Richwood, the town where both Kate and I had been born and spent our early years, and had set up a bookstore. In the next ten months though about the customer that we had was one small child that loved horse stories and that Kate and I couldn't dare charge for the "chapter books," as she called them.
But three great things happened while we were there, and I list them in the order in which they happened.
Although there were no local book sales happening we met a local artist of marketry who also happened to be a book collector and former bookstore employee in eastern North Carolina. He had literally thousands of fine non-fiction books on about every subject imaginable and he was wanting to sell about half of them. In the process of listing his books online on a commission basis, and in addition to being able to add to our own collection of books, we formed an Amazon and AbeBooks online sale site and were shipping a goodly armload of books daily; enough to keep the lights on and beans on the table.
Second, we met "The Pammy." Pamela Z. Neal is barely five foot tall, is the closest model of a walking/talking faerie I'd ever seen, she's beautiful and posseses the finest, sweetest spirit imaginable. And she can draw pictures practically beyond my ability to breathe while looking at them.
She came in one evening in late fall and in her quiet fae voice wanted a job. Even with the online shipping at the time we couldn't afford an employee but in the weeks to come we made a very good and lasting friend. By early spring we'd inherited a bookstore cat named Dicey from our college faring daughter, and when Pammy stopped next time to adore the cat, we were finally able to give her several months work, as well as Dicey, upon our closing the store.
The third thing that happened was I met the singers. I'd played bass in a group before and drums, but on the six string acoustic guitar, I was barely a rythymn player. A few standard chords was as far as I could go. There wasn't much happening at night in Richwood, so I'd lie down on a bed in the back of the store and lay a six string Yamaha across my chest and strum as much as I knew how.
And one night, I kept thinking I could hear singing in the background. And I'd asked Kate, who was writing up in the front of the store at the time if she was singing. And she'd say no. The music was literally out of this world, it was beautiful, and sounded to be a near all male chorous. I discovered that if I really relaxed I could take off playing right along with those songs and found myself going places on that guitar neck where I'd never been.
Stories and images began to form with those songs and different nights held different songs and moods and I noticed a story begin to unfold and that I could follow this story where ever it happened to lead, and still be lying in the back of the store.
Later I was to learn more about the faerie singers, the keepers of story from the beginning of time, but for now I believed that I'd found what we came back for, as I found that I could connect to these singers anywhere that I went with that guitar.
So after a lot of discussion about moving on, and whether to move back where we'd been (I seem to usually have this thing about only moving on, not back, lol) for whatever reason other than we'd never been there before, we loaded all the books in a U-Haul and with the little pick-up on a trailer behind, landed in Berea, KY.
Nice town, very cool college, stocked several more books, but not really possessing any feeling of "home" for either of us. Still had the faeries singing, but I missed a lot of the things that were familiar to me, so after only three months there, we loaded a UHaul again, hauled all the books to a warehouse in Asheville, and the next year was pretty much a repeat of scenario above before we'd ever left Asheville the first time.
The faeries were singing and I was learning and taking notes like crazy, but that other thing was happening too ... 'Go Home!!"
Finally, leaving the book business in the care of a friend, we loaded up one more time. A writer friend in Summersville had a mother-in-law apartment on their house on Power Plant Road. We arrived one morning, began to unload and unpack, and way late that night, exhausted and sick, finally headed to bed.
And that night I had a dream .....did I ever have a dream .......
Saturday, January 14, 2012
How the Faeries Got Me Back to WV - Part 3
We had been sitting about an hour in the semi-circle; it was still very foggy with a very light mist falling. I'd heard a few exclamations occasionally as someone would spot an orb or something, but mostly it was a very quiet night for faeries.
Faeries love to communicate and they love being included and consulted in human activity. They will generally appear in whatever form necessary to make contact. It often depends on what the individual is expecting to see or what they have been trained to see just how they will appear. There is a particular way that they are wanting to appear to humans and a particular attitude that they are wanting humans to become acquainted with them -- more on that later. For now, it is more of a chore for a faerie to manifest itself than one would usually think. It is generally the older ones that can be seen the most and there is always a younger bunch attempting or being trained to do so which can produce some pretty cool light shows.
There are also better times of the year than others, such as in this 21 day springtime promise, when the veil between the worlds are thinner thus making it easier for communication from either side of the veil. But even at that there are times when the acitivity just isn't as strong as others.
Tonight was just such a night. That didn't really bother be much, I was very content with a blanket pulled up over my shoulders and head, sipping hot tea from a thermos, and listening and watching a very good group of friends and individuals.
I had my eyes closed at this one point when I felt a hand come under the blanket and take my left hand. I looked up to see what Kate or Susan wanted, figuring they were probably thinking about leaving, but there was no one there that I could see.
I continued to feel the pressure on my hand pulling me upward so I stood up, leaving my blanket and thermos on the ground, and begin to follow in the direction of the tugging. It was so foggy I could barely see my hand in front of me.
We got to the edge of the flat top area, the sound of the waterfall increasing, and then I was pulled to the right, descending a narrow path that began dropping quickly down the mountain. A few steps down and the "hand" released mine and there I stood wondering what was next.
Nothing happened for about a minute or so so I decided to follow the path aways and did so for about 10 minutes. It was very steep all that time but rocky enough to not be too slippery. All the time I could tell that I was walking parallel to the waterfall and it sounded like I was getting closer to it at the same time.
The path leveled out in front of me for a length of about 30 feet before descending further down the mountain but my attention was drawn to the base of the waterfall hitting the ledge just to my left before continuing its descent on down the steep mountain.
I couldn't make out much between the blackness of the night and the extreme fog but then to the left edge of the falls I saw her standing, just clear of the plunging water. She stood totally motionless, at least 5 foot tall, clothed in a long flowing violet gown with the bottom front opening to show some type of wrap around inner garment of 3 colors of green stripes. There was a green shawl of sorts wrapped around her waist, her hair was very long and appeared to be more light green than blonde. I remember trying to decide if it was green or just the dim light, fog and spray of the falls that made it appear so. I remember later thinking and laughing about I didn't really think any at all about if I was really seeing her or not, I just couldn't decide what color her hair was.
Whatever color it was though, her outfit was completed with a violet turban wrapped around the top of her head and she had 6 what looked like very thin and delicate wings. Two, rather short, pointing upward at near a 30 degree angle, two more about the same length extending about waist level outward and two longer ones pointing downward at about a 30 degree angle. They were all the same shade of violet as her clothing and had the same color of green "quill" in the middle, as if they had been feathers, but the wings themselves resembled some form of fine cloth more than anything.
We just stood like that a few seconds and then she asked, "Dare We Dance The Faerie Dream?'
Except she did not move a bit, not even her mouth. It actually felt more like what I heard her say was a thought, my thought, like i wish i had ice cream. Then her image was gone but the conversation continued within my mind with thoughts that would not normally have been mine.
Go Home.
Back to Asheville?
Go Home.
Who are you?
Go Home, I'll be there too.
What makes me think you're even here now?
This continued quite awhile, along with several other thoughts, one of which was maybe she would appear again and I'd make more sense of this whole thing. But she didn't reappear and I didn't make any more sense of anything so finally I began the steep climb back towards the top of the mountain...........
Faeries love to communicate and they love being included and consulted in human activity. They will generally appear in whatever form necessary to make contact. It often depends on what the individual is expecting to see or what they have been trained to see just how they will appear. There is a particular way that they are wanting to appear to humans and a particular attitude that they are wanting humans to become acquainted with them -- more on that later. For now, it is more of a chore for a faerie to manifest itself than one would usually think. It is generally the older ones that can be seen the most and there is always a younger bunch attempting or being trained to do so which can produce some pretty cool light shows.
There are also better times of the year than others, such as in this 21 day springtime promise, when the veil between the worlds are thinner thus making it easier for communication from either side of the veil. But even at that there are times when the acitivity just isn't as strong as others.
Tonight was just such a night. That didn't really bother be much, I was very content with a blanket pulled up over my shoulders and head, sipping hot tea from a thermos, and listening and watching a very good group of friends and individuals.
I had my eyes closed at this one point when I felt a hand come under the blanket and take my left hand. I looked up to see what Kate or Susan wanted, figuring they were probably thinking about leaving, but there was no one there that I could see.
I continued to feel the pressure on my hand pulling me upward so I stood up, leaving my blanket and thermos on the ground, and begin to follow in the direction of the tugging. It was so foggy I could barely see my hand in front of me.
We got to the edge of the flat top area, the sound of the waterfall increasing, and then I was pulled to the right, descending a narrow path that began dropping quickly down the mountain. A few steps down and the "hand" released mine and there I stood wondering what was next.
Nothing happened for about a minute or so so I decided to follow the path aways and did so for about 10 minutes. It was very steep all that time but rocky enough to not be too slippery. All the time I could tell that I was walking parallel to the waterfall and it sounded like I was getting closer to it at the same time.
The path leveled out in front of me for a length of about 30 feet before descending further down the mountain but my attention was drawn to the base of the waterfall hitting the ledge just to my left before continuing its descent on down the steep mountain.
I couldn't make out much between the blackness of the night and the extreme fog but then to the left edge of the falls I saw her standing, just clear of the plunging water. She stood totally motionless, at least 5 foot tall, clothed in a long flowing violet gown with the bottom front opening to show some type of wrap around inner garment of 3 colors of green stripes. There was a green shawl of sorts wrapped around her waist, her hair was very long and appeared to be more light green than blonde. I remember trying to decide if it was green or just the dim light, fog and spray of the falls that made it appear so. I remember later thinking and laughing about I didn't really think any at all about if I was really seeing her or not, I just couldn't decide what color her hair was.
Whatever color it was though, her outfit was completed with a violet turban wrapped around the top of her head and she had 6 what looked like very thin and delicate wings. Two, rather short, pointing upward at near a 30 degree angle, two more about the same length extending about waist level outward and two longer ones pointing downward at about a 30 degree angle. They were all the same shade of violet as her clothing and had the same color of green "quill" in the middle, as if they had been feathers, but the wings themselves resembled some form of fine cloth more than anything.
We just stood like that a few seconds and then she asked, "Dare We Dance The Faerie Dream?'
Except she did not move a bit, not even her mouth. It actually felt more like what I heard her say was a thought, my thought, like i wish i had ice cream. Then her image was gone but the conversation continued within my mind with thoughts that would not normally have been mine.
Go Home.
Back to Asheville?
Go Home.
Who are you?
Go Home, I'll be there too.
What makes me think you're even here now?
This continued quite awhile, along with several other thoughts, one of which was maybe she would appear again and I'd make more sense of this whole thing. But she didn't reappear and I didn't make any more sense of anything so finally I began the steep climb back towards the top of the mountain...........
Thursday, January 12, 2012
How the Faeries Got Me Back to WV - Part 2
As we begin our stroll down the little grassy lane in the cool spring mist let me tell you a bit about this place.
Terra Nova Center was founded by the scrapiest, most charming, elegant, lady you're likely to ever meet. Her name is Marian Y. Starnes. Along with Terra Nova, she is co-founder of the Brigade of Light and a very gifted lecturer and spiritual counselor.
She was around 80 or 81 years old the night I first met her and she is accompanied by a cohort which you will always want to make certain is your friend. Able, to say the least, to keep an eye on Marian and those around her, to help through some of the wildest country that you could possibly imagine, and she's just simply a delightful soul to be around. Providing you did ever do something that needed correction, look out, she possesses the ability to kick your butt in so many more ways than one.
The property is propably around 400 acres, I don't remember now exactly, but the front part is beautiful rolling meadows and pasture land, horse stables and paddocks, a series of machinery and feed sheds, beautiful fences, at least three large ponds, might as well call one of them a lake, and then a large non-denominational retreat center, complete with meeting area, huge kitchen and dining hall and office facilities on the end.
As we begin walk slightly downgrade along the path, the trees and flowering bushes become more prevelant as we begin to pass small cabins and lodges and finally make our way out a long, nearly flat ridge. To the left, is a huge and very steep looking valley, perhaps canyon would be the better word. Terra Nova is situated in Transylvania County, the land of waterfalls, and the sound coming from the valley affirms one such large waterfall at least lies somewhere below and beneath us. The fog and mist prevent any looking over the edge and the area is posted heavily as a Wildlife and Bird Sanctuary and people are strictly forbidden to enter that area.
As we continue across the flat mountiantop we suddenly round a turn in the path, and veering to the right, we come to the base of yet another mountain beginning to rise right in front of us. Directly at the base is an area of dozens of mixed varities of herbs, flowers and tall grasses, fairy balls, an assortment of stones and crystals, and a large stone chimney, enshrouded in ivy and vines, rising from the ground. In front of all this is a semi circle of very low benches giving the area a feeling of theatre as the 30 or so of us begin to sit on the benches while others wrapped in blankets lie on the ground in the area nearer the chimneys.
Marian began a brief story of an agreement with the faeries when they first purchased the property. If she would leave this wild and wet area of nearly 80 acres or so completely in its natural state, they would begin a time of manifestations and appearances for a peroid in spring and fall. Through the years hundreds of people had gathered in the evenings to meditate and to watch hundreds of appearances, everything from orb dances to various solid forms of a number of kinds of faeries.
There is quite a history of healings, revelations, and changing of lives in the stories of those hundreds that had made that near mile trek through the woods to this point. Little yet did I know just what a night of story and revelation lay ahead for me .........
Terra Nova Center was founded by the scrapiest, most charming, elegant, lady you're likely to ever meet. Her name is Marian Y. Starnes. Along with Terra Nova, she is co-founder of the Brigade of Light and a very gifted lecturer and spiritual counselor.
She was around 80 or 81 years old the night I first met her and she is accompanied by a cohort which you will always want to make certain is your friend. Able, to say the least, to keep an eye on Marian and those around her, to help through some of the wildest country that you could possibly imagine, and she's just simply a delightful soul to be around. Providing you did ever do something that needed correction, look out, she possesses the ability to kick your butt in so many more ways than one.
The property is propably around 400 acres, I don't remember now exactly, but the front part is beautiful rolling meadows and pasture land, horse stables and paddocks, a series of machinery and feed sheds, beautiful fences, at least three large ponds, might as well call one of them a lake, and then a large non-denominational retreat center, complete with meeting area, huge kitchen and dining hall and office facilities on the end.
As we begin walk slightly downgrade along the path, the trees and flowering bushes become more prevelant as we begin to pass small cabins and lodges and finally make our way out a long, nearly flat ridge. To the left, is a huge and very steep looking valley, perhaps canyon would be the better word. Terra Nova is situated in Transylvania County, the land of waterfalls, and the sound coming from the valley affirms one such large waterfall at least lies somewhere below and beneath us. The fog and mist prevent any looking over the edge and the area is posted heavily as a Wildlife and Bird Sanctuary and people are strictly forbidden to enter that area.
As we continue across the flat mountiantop we suddenly round a turn in the path, and veering to the right, we come to the base of yet another mountain beginning to rise right in front of us. Directly at the base is an area of dozens of mixed varities of herbs, flowers and tall grasses, fairy balls, an assortment of stones and crystals, and a large stone chimney, enshrouded in ivy and vines, rising from the ground. In front of all this is a semi circle of very low benches giving the area a feeling of theatre as the 30 or so of us begin to sit on the benches while others wrapped in blankets lie on the ground in the area nearer the chimneys.
Marian began a brief story of an agreement with the faeries when they first purchased the property. If she would leave this wild and wet area of nearly 80 acres or so completely in its natural state, they would begin a time of manifestations and appearances for a peroid in spring and fall. Through the years hundreds of people had gathered in the evenings to meditate and to watch hundreds of appearances, everything from orb dances to various solid forms of a number of kinds of faeries.
There is quite a history of healings, revelations, and changing of lives in the stories of those hundreds that had made that near mile trek through the woods to this point. Little yet did I know just what a night of story and revelation lay ahead for me .........
Wednesday, January 11, 2012
How the Faeries Got Me Back to West Virginia
I'd come back every year or two anyway, some how managed unintentionally to be at the base of Fork Mountain, near Richwood, on the night of December 21st, nearly everytime; arriving to a barrage of faerie energy and drum and dance the night away.
But I wouldn't stay. Asheville, NC was becoming more and more the part of home that I stayed at most after nearly twenty years of breakneck rambling across the lands. I'd grown accustomed to so many bookstores, cafes, presentations, plays, drum circles, concerts, eating all the healthy foods I couldn't pronounce, a steady supply of all herbs and remedies for anything that could possibly ail me. And especially the endless supply of wonderful friends.
Among them, as beautiful and sweet spirtied native american girl as Kate and I have ever met. Susan Jones, just jumped into our hearts and lives the first time we ever seen her, which happened to be in the middle of a Hopi Drum Circle where I was drumming and Kate was dancing that night.
That girl could constantly introduce us to more thrilling and life changing experiences than you could ever imagine possible or even in existence. Among them, the night she, "Hey, let's drive down to Terra Nova Center in Cedar Mountain tonight and visit the faeries."
Now what I'm going to tell you next, you might think is quite well beyond reason. And that's OK, I understand. But it all really happened, what I'm gonna tell you.And the cool thing about the whole event, the address of Terra Nova just happens to be: 3475 Reasonover Road, Cedar Mountain, NC.
http://www.terranovacenter.com/
We arrived just before dusk, amid a cool spring misty drizzle, and proceeded down this little lane to the story that awaited which I'll continue next round .....
But I wouldn't stay. Asheville, NC was becoming more and more the part of home that I stayed at most after nearly twenty years of breakneck rambling across the lands. I'd grown accustomed to so many bookstores, cafes, presentations, plays, drum circles, concerts, eating all the healthy foods I couldn't pronounce, a steady supply of all herbs and remedies for anything that could possibly ail me. And especially the endless supply of wonderful friends.
Among them, as beautiful and sweet spirtied native american girl as Kate and I have ever met. Susan Jones, just jumped into our hearts and lives the first time we ever seen her, which happened to be in the middle of a Hopi Drum Circle where I was drumming and Kate was dancing that night.
That girl could constantly introduce us to more thrilling and life changing experiences than you could ever imagine possible or even in existence. Among them, the night she, "Hey, let's drive down to Terra Nova Center in Cedar Mountain tonight and visit the faeries."
Now what I'm going to tell you next, you might think is quite well beyond reason. And that's OK, I understand. But it all really happened, what I'm gonna tell you.And the cool thing about the whole event, the address of Terra Nova just happens to be: 3475 Reasonover Road, Cedar Mountain, NC.
http://www.terranovacenter.com/
We arrived just before dusk, amid a cool spring misty drizzle, and proceeded down this little lane to the story that awaited which I'll continue next round .....
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