The Wild Hunt

Ride with the Wild Hunt
(Anna Moura)

     The purpose of this meditation is to face the entrace of the Underworld and power of the dark aspect of the Divine. To help the practitioner understand the necessary balance of life and that it is nothing to fear. The uniting of the dark and light within the individual reflects the union of these aspects in the flow of the universe, offering the person a sense of peace and wholeness.

     Sit in a darkened room. Breathe deeply and exhale; repeat. Now begin a simple exericse: inahle for two counts and hold for one, release for two counts and holding for one, etc. (This is to help you relax and clear your mind.) Once you have reached your quiet inner space...
       Listen and hear the distant thunder of horses' hooves coming closwer; the rattle and squeak of harness and saddles; the heavy breathing of the beasts, and again the blast of the horn; You know the Wild Hunt is approaching.
       You call out: "May I ride with the Rade until the break of day?" and the Hunter calls back to you: "Catch hold my hand and are not let go." He passes and you grasp the hand held down to you and are pulled to sit before the Hunter upon his mount. You hold fast to that hand and watch the Rade from your seat.
      Over mountaintops and through valleys; over seas and flood plains; past great cities and small villages; you ride, and you become aware through the dark swirling clouds that surround you that shadows rise up from the lands you have passed and join the Wild Hunt in its headlong race through the dark. The Rade races before the sunrise and now you see that the land is more familiar. You recognise your own local countryside, towns and cities and the Hunter says: "The dawning comes and you are back from whence you sprang upon my steed. My bargain is kept - you rode with the Rade until break of day."
      In an instant, that strong arm and powerful hand has dropped you gently onto the ground. You see before you a great earthen mound with a carved stone gateway, and you are reminded of a pregnant woman's full belly and yet the entrance is ancient. You see the Crone, grey and shirvled, dressed in tattered shrouds, standing in the dim entry and she says; "You must pass through me to be born of me!" Now you realise how much the Wild Hunt has grown in size; with laughing riders and plunging horses, you watch as the Hunter leads the Rade through the entry into the Shadowland. The gateway vanishes; the dawn breaks, you breathe easier and are at peace. You can feel the warmth of the morning sun. The landscape fades and you return to normal consciousness.