The Princess of Wands

Today I feel centered, a sense of calmness has descended upon me like a cloak of power and authority, and something is different in some way. The Hallway of Beginnings is becoming more and more real to me, the details are being filled in, and it is linking to other places that I can remember, other places, recalled from long forgotten vagaries of my distant past. Gradually, vision by vision, I seem to be mapping out my inner reality, building a world on the inner planes, a palace of dreams, where no place is forbidden, where I am limited only by the bravery of my heart and the depth of my soul.
I get up softly from the chair that I am occupying in the hallway, and leave my body there, quietly sitting in the pale early light, whilst I walk slowly up the wooden stairs. The rails are as smooth as satin under my hands, and passes noiselessly beneath my fingers. Up on the long landing, I find the door that I am looking for, and pause on the threshold, summoning the Princess with as much will and strength that I can muster and then push open the heavy wood, to step through the blazing orange banner that announces her arrival.
Forests of leaping fire spring up on either side of me, as I walk into the landscape, rising and falling, leaping and dancing, gyrating like jugglers, the orange flames spinning in a fantastical furore, crimson and scarlet whirling in an ecstatic dervish dance. I walk through the burning fanfare, and notice that I am following a horse, that carries a woman, dressed in medieval clothes, and wearing a tall pointed hat. She appears from what I can see, to be of royal appearance, and as we walk further into the card, the flames die away, and I can see that there are crowds of people pressing forward on either side. It suddenly feels quite oppressive, and I get the sense that these people represent creative ideas, and I see the woman turn back to me, and she beckons me with an outstretched hand. I run to catch up and she grabs my hand, and I leap up beside her. The horse takes off, quickly breaking into a gallop, and runs faster and faster, his hooves thundering on the hard ground, until very soon, we seem to be entering the land of The Chariot. I see the settlement that I visited, when I was here before, the tent of the wise woman is over there, and I can see the Grey Owl Man standing apart, away from the tents, and he is watching me with interest. The lady on the horse and I, have become one and the same person, I am not sure if I have become the princess, or whether she has disappeared, but it doesn’t seem to matter at the moment. The horse, as if sensing that his mistress has gone, gradually comes to a standstill, and I see that we have stopped beside a small pool. I get off the horse, and look at the pool, which is round and not very large. It looks inviting, sitting there under to blue sky, and I find that I feel quite warm after that fast ride. I get the idea that the pool represents a chakra, and I also know what I need to do now. I take off my clothes, and get into the pool, which is a bit cold, but not too much so, and I dive down beneath the water. I find my self in a watery tunnel and I swim down and along, swimming hard against the strong current. It seems very long, though, this tunnel, and I come to some kind of recognition that I am swimming down a birth canal, and that this tunnel represents the creative process, the bringing to birth of a project, the hard work that it involves. It seems to be exhausting me, and I realise that there will be no ending here today; this is not a day for birth.
I turn back and drift quickly back to the surface of the pool, which was a lot easier than the swim down, surfacing gladly into the bright light, almost like a new born baby, gasping and blinking in the bright light. I climb out, glad that I will know where to go next time I am here, and as I get dressed, I see that the Owl Man has been viewing the proceedings. I ask him what brings him here at this time, and as I do so, I notice that he has very soft eyes, something I hadn’t noted last time I saw him. He tells me that creativity is like a lover, to nurture it, and embrace it often, otherwise it will drift away from me. He said that creativity can be lost if it feels unloved, lost like a child in a crowded city. I see that he is wearing a necklace of cowry shells, and that these represent the value of the creative spirit, its worth, its origins, and the way you can listen to the song of the sea within its heart.
I hear a call, a high clarion, announcing the arrival of the banner of The Princess. I see her vibrant colours fluttering in the breeze, and know that I must leave the Owl Man here. Slipping quietly through the whispering silk, the trumpet still ringing in my ears, I step back into The Hallway of Beginnings.

The Princess of the Shining Flame

The Rose of The Palace of Fire

Princess and Empress of The Salamanders

Throne of The Ace of Wands

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