The cold earth, mounded with snow, is scattered with piles of brush that lay sleeping and dying beneath the frozen cover.
The faintly crusted branches, reaching for the cold winter skies, are the only contrast between the stark and the cold.
The movement, barely noticeable and only in a split moment where one sees what was not there or perhaps is noticing what was always there, peripherally broken by, and brought into view through the invisible presence of power.
Only then did I feel the cold. I had been sitting on a boulder size stone in my woods for hours. Originally I had been out walking, inquiring as I do, with a question. When I come to my power spot. I sit and go into my dream state. I always know where to sit. A power spot is essential for a warrior. A power spot can be an ally, one that in respect to receiving a reply for a question may align with the proper energy to facilitate an answer.
Now I was shivering like a leaf in the wind. I could not move and yet I was fully awake and aware of the biting cold against my reddened skin. I had not yet moved my hands when I felt them lifeless on my legs.
It was just a thought I had - to move and I could not. Upon the thought to move, my body became warm. Although too, I could not move my eyes, from where I was looking, I could see the bitter flush of my frozen body clad against the stone.
Just then an incredible snap besieged the atmosphere so loud and as quick as it passed through my body, I instinctively stood up. The air pressure expanded. I was huge; with my two giant hands I stretched the world out around me. Immediately as everything reduced to a single point within me, I became crystal clear of a dimension of space other than my own. One in which the space did not include the stone I had been sitting on, nor did it contain the woods in which I had been sitting. And yet without hesitation, I did not feel the usual automation of checks and balances in regard to reason. So in turn, I asked my question....
Deaf and weightless, I stood looking up.
My eyes saw through a window in the sky.
The sky people came to greet me.
An old Shaman, clad in a Snow Leopards skin, instructed me.
We communicated with our eyes.
I followed; he dropped down on all fours and ran ahead.
We came to woods.
There I was seen, sitting on a large boulder size stone.
My recently deceased dog Jessy, was sitting by my side.
She looked up at me.
We communicated through our eyes.
I knew then, within my body, she was ok.
I gave thanks that late afternoon at the rock in my woods. For my dog Jessy, I am grateful for all the years we had together.
I am grateful for the allegiance with Spirit.
I am grateful for the Journey.
Along with my Strength, Commitment and Will, I am grateful for the Mood of Intent. It entices the power. I have received my answer.
Peace on your journey, Kris