 presented by Lucien D'Coeur |
presented by Lucien D'Coeur |
Allow me to give you my 'instruction manual' spiel.
The meditation was written inspired by Lewis Carroll. I performed them in context of ritual. (Smudging/Circle) You are meant to hear them phonically first. You aren't to try to analyze the terminology...just allow the words and context to break across your Id, to give you personal meanings.
When it was time for people to go home I'd hand them the written Meditation. When they read it (w/o referring to the glossary), hopefully they get this Oh! Oh! Oh! reaction. Any terms they don't understand, again they're supposed to mull personal meaning from them and/or assign personal meaning to them.
A little later (a day or so) I'd ask them to read the meditation, and have them refer to the glossary as they go, to see what the words actually mean and/or how I use them. :P Ideally, once again they'll get that Oh! Oh! Oh! reaction I so love...
"Finding your Ananda", as presented by Guide Lucien D'Coeur
I want you to get as comfortable as you can; you may lie down, if you wish. Now, I want you to close your eyes; relax, breathe in slowly...deeply...fully. Hold it a moment. Now release, deeply, fully. Allow your breathing to become the only thing you are aware of, for now. (We'll do this a minute, maybe two.) Listen to my voice and relax. Let my voice paint the darkness that you see.
At the edges of the darkness, glaisne fog encroaches with an effleurage of its tendrils upon your eyelids. The ethereal fingers laughingly, playfully, entwine first your face, and then cascade all around you, until you gently float in its cloudesque warmth and comfort.
You slowly open your mind's eye to the lands of Gemynd's Troum. You have visited this place at other times, in other guises, by different names. You lie within a glade of Umbra trees, by a gurbling crook. In the soft gloaming you feel the starry night pavane above your Sacellum.
This is a sacred place, one of your own portals to another world. The limpid water of the crook, smells so inviting, it seems to say, "Drink Me!". Which you fain do. At its touch upon your lips, you hear a Satori bird cry out from the trees above. But it cannot be seen, as it is hidden in the umbra of the trees.
You realize you can find your missing Ananda slithering somewhere in the Carrollinian Empire. Fortunately, your Ananda is different from anyone else's.
It is time to call your Fugle. It may take a moment, but it will come to you here, in this sacred place. It comes to you, eternally patient, eternally expectant, on your desire for Gnosis. With your Fugle's arrival you feel whole; or rather, more complete. You are ready to seek your Ananda.
Following your Fugle, you step over the crook of the Satori bird and out of the Sacellum. Under the Umbra tree's skuggi leaves, you weave your way eastish. On paths darkly, you travail until Aurora peers over the horizon.
"Company! Harsh!!!" you hear. A stinging at the end of your nose brings tears to your eyes as a Make-bate fluzzes before you, riding crop saltant. At the mini-martinet's orders, the loam bursts open and the air is thick with make-bates. Tiny individually, their one voice, a cacophony of censure. "Stop right there! Yes, I mean You! I trust you just must have better things to do! You should leave at once! Who do you think you are?! Why should you be happy? This time you've gone too far! You must follow the rules and be like us; now stay where you are and don't make a fuss...I promise to God, this won't hurt. Much."
Gesticulating wildly, with four little arms, the Make-bate leads his army of zillions to swallow you whole, until there is almost none of "You" left to be seen. But the make-bates cannot see your Fugle, and while they try to crawl into your mind to attach their marionette webs, your Fugle mimics the cry of the Satori; all the make-bates fluzz off post haste, as the charivari of its songs are as painful to them, as their noise is to you. You find yourself...much more You now. In ways you didn't realize before, as you find the dangling ends of cut cords.
You travail on until mid-day and stumble upon a rath. Tall greeds line either side of the rath. It is seldom travailed but heads past you, in your direction. A large Phaeton, with hooves like suns, glissades up to you. "Where do you leave to?" asks the Phaeton, as it cavorts - to keep from burning too many greeds in any one place. "Leave to?", you reply. "I'm hunting my Ananda and think it is on this rath."
"Hrmmm. You're probably right. But you walk too slow, I've six legs more and know where to go!", grins the golange Phaeton. So you scrambre up the soleil Manes of the Phaeton, who takes off like the wind. In a more or morer westerly direction. "Oh, no!" you cry, "You're taking me the wrong way! This is where I came from!" The Phaeton stares, with tell tale eyes and laughs an evil laugh, "You trust to another that which you must travail for yourself, and this is where you leave to!"
You have long since passed the Umbra trees. You see the fiery land of Muspel coming up swiftly before you and look back to see your Fugle giving chaise. The Fugle begins an eerie, three-toned glottaled note. From over the horizon raises arabesque the huge, argent Python with falcate horns. Between her horns is tiny Mantis, who speaks for her. Phaeton rears and throws you, its rider, to the greeds. After the heat of near disaster the comfort of the greeds almost enslaves you with their aromatic allure, when you "hear" the tacit "voice" of Python, through Mantis. "Child, you've asked for me?" Your Fugle gently draws you away from the soft and comforting greeds. "Yes Mother." you reply. Mantis flies down from Python and alights upon the crown of your head. "I've taken the rath of another, and am further from my Ananda than I've ever been before." Mantis casually plucks out and eats a stray web or two before replying. "You are always where you need to be in order to become the person you are." You see Python "swim" like a great eel through Aether, chaising Twilight with her scintillating hair, chaising Phaeton. You feel silly talking at the top of your head but say "I need your help in finding my Ananda."
(I want you to repeat that to yourself three times.)
Mantis replies, "Do you know what your Ananda is called? The first thing you must do is give your Ananda a name before you can see what it looks like. But I warn you, it will bite you when you've named it, and its venom will be a fever in your blood for the rest of your days. Sickness will descend upon you if you do not get bitten often enough. So make sure you are willing to pay the price, before naming your Ananda."
After a while of thought, your Fugle carries you above the greeds and sets you beside the driver's seat of the chaise. "It is time to wend our way home," says your Fugle.. "If you follow your Ananda long enough, it will lead you to the Afflatus. After that, they will lead you to sacred Samadhi." Mantis nods her head in agreement, while eating one of your hairs like spaghetti. "Those are journeys for another time," says Mantis. "Blessed Be, my child." Mantis flies into the vaporous, sapphire sky and is lost as a mote in the great argent glow of Python.
The Fugle chaises you down the rath until you draw along side of the Umbra wood. Its helps schlep you past the skuggi leaves that would drink your chi in the cold of Dawn, until you break into the Sacellum. There are many beings and creatures, arriving and lying down, just as you are. Somewhere, a Bandersnatch begins to frume. A sleepish, magical darkness swallows the picture whole. There is just you now, the darkness, your breathing and my voice. I want you to follow the sound of my voice; as you do, I want the darkness to fade away. I am going to count from ten to one, and as I do so, I want you to ease yourself back into the Here and Now. 10...9...8...7...6...5...4...3...2...1. Dah-neh hoh.