There's a story, a story, a story told in the north, south, west & east on a far away island that once upon a time and once upon this place there was a Queen, a Great Queen, a Queen who was One with the Land. Tis true. It was so. This Queen had the insight of a falcon, the courage of a tigress and fierceness of phoenix. She was clever, intuitive, sentient, graceful, fierce and 10,000 other honorable and human qualities.(name 3 more!) She led her Queendom for scores and scores of years and then one autumn day when the kind light was luminous, when the leaves spilled like gold coins from the boughs of beech and birch and hazel her brave and truthful heart ceased and her very last exhale slipped effortlessly through her old wise lips. For seven days and seven nights songs, prayers, poems and toasts were sung over her body. Then for forty-nine days the people mourned, the trees wept, the bird ceased their songs and the waves of the bruise blue sea ebbed back revealing the very bottom of that mysterious world. When all had grieved cleanly, when their salt tears had replenished the sea, and ribbons of joy spun amongst them like the sun they looked at one another and said, "Now who shall offer us guidance and leadership? Our Great Queen had no heir." The oldest of the old recalled a time when this had happened and an ancient challenge was remembered and resurrected. A golden chariot was brought forth. Two wild stallions were hitched to it, one black and one white. Whoever wanted to test their nerves, risk their lives and try their luck to be the next sovereign stepped forward. Their task and challenge was to drive these two horses at full speed towards a fork in the road, holding the tension of those reigns, taking neither the right or the left road. It was an impossible task... one would most likely go off the road, crash, meet their death, or simply fail the challenge. Many did. However for the chosen sovereign, the fortunate lass or lad, a Third Road would open up between the left and the right fork. The Third Road. The day was spoken of for hundreds of years to come. Under the blessed sun and the day-time moon many good folk tried. Many died. All failed. And there at that cusp of time when it's neither day or night, but it's own time - the gloaming time, no new sovereign had emerged winning the challenge. Then and there in the mix of hundreds of onlookers, a young woman - bright of eye and brave of heart stepped forward responding to the gentle yet persistent inner nudge to try. She knew horses well. She liked speed and risk, quiet and calm, and she was canny as a goat. Her name was Oonagh. Oonagh knelt and kissed the earth, thanking the earth beneath her feet. She raised her arms stirring the first glinting of stars above, thanking that mystery, and then she took the reigns. She whispered three words to the white horse, and three words to the black horse. Their eyes rolled in their heads, their mouths foamed from the day's exertions. And if you were watching you just might have seen each horse gave her a quick wink. And then at her jerk of the reigns the horses leapt forward. They bucked and galloped full speed, they desperate to be free of the reigns that yoked them to the chariot and following the guidance of Oonagh. The chariot was a blur of gleaming gold as Oonagh, her flame colored hair streaming and those two horses hurled toward the fork in the road. The tension in the reigns was strong, yet Oonagh held fast. The crowd held their breath, the red shank flying over head stopped mid flight to behold this spectacular feat. A river of sweat poured off Oonagh's body, her eyes blazed 10,000 fires, her hand held fast and just as they reached the fork in the road a song, yes a song, came flaring out from her mouth. The song was a prayer, a dirge, the song was merry and bawdy. The song was sorrow and succor and grace. The song was sweet like honey and horribly, sourly off key, and for a moment everyone in attendance was transported to some inexplicable unforgettable place. Some were soothed by the sound/song and would recall it on their deathbeds and some were deeply troubled by this song/sound, hands clapped over their ears, keening for the misery they heard. In that moment, all eyes watching as wide as platters, the fork in the road split. In the gaping crack a third road road emerged. A gleaming chalk white road appeared just as Oonagh, luminous and triumphant, her smile a perfect summer's day, the horses slick with sweat, and the chariot, golden as the sun thundered onto it and into the mist shrouding the moor. Three days later after some serious bad ass feasting Oonagh was crowned Queen. From that day onwards, everyone who had witnessed the appearance of the Third Road, was a little bit brighter, their hearts mountains bigger, their laughter deeper, and their breath and speech was sweet as clover.
~ Fin ~ The Third Road is the Road of the Soul. The tension between our pain and the joy of being alive, between existential existence and transcendental experience. When we engage in a deep and rich courtship with story, glimpses of the Third Road, Your Soul's Road may appear. When was the last time you made a choice that nourished your Soul? How do you tend to your Soul on a regular basis? A robust, conscious and intentional relationship with stories, nature, shadow work, silence, poetry, beauty, art, reflection, your heart, your body and so many other experiences can be essential to your Soul's journey. Right now we need humans who actively tend to their Souls' health, being, leading and dreaming in this wild , simply & complicated world. If you'd like to put more conscious & intentional energy toward tending your Soul consider joining me for the next cycle of Weaving Worlds Story Circle.
The Circle begins on Samhain, October 31 and the stark, dark of autumn, and winter will be full & fat with- breathing stories, meandering myths, the gold coin of personal narrative. A weaving of spirit, soul, community, connection, story and your own lifting-off -the-lid soul inquiry. A winter to dream and vision and tend so we may rise up renewed as priceless and powerful, as seeds to bloom & fruit come next summer. Join us!!