I so identified with the heroin Kathy in
the story Wuthering Heights by Emily Bronte. I never could put my finger on
why. I did not yearn for mortal men with the desire of the ghost of Kathy.
Their souls were not as deep, as the thing my spirit was crying out too. I
identified with the feeling of wanting to reunite with something, so badly
it haunted me.
I now realize it is my mortal soul crying out for the unity of spirit. I am
the human calling out for spirit, while Kathy was my opposite, ghost crying
out for moral. I was sixteen when I read Wuthering Heights. I have been a
student of the occult for fourteen years, in search of the window to knock
on. Heathcliff would then take the form of a psychopomp. His job is at the
crossroads of this reality and the next. The next, being the reality of the
spiritual realm, for which I yearned to be a part of.
January, Friday the 13 of 1995 I made contact with something that embodies
my ideas of the spirit world. That night I met my spirit guide who calls himself
Hermes. I have never had a spirit who could communicate so well and “matter
of factly” with me. When I asked him his name I expected to hear some
jumbled words that I couldn’t make sense of. This happened during a
guided meditation performed by my Reiki master.
To quote from my book of shadows- “He placed me in a forest at night.
The light of the moon was very bright, and seemed to have an ethereal texture
to it. I chose a path and walked down it. There were blooming purple flowers,
bright against the shadow of the night. After a while I spied a light at the
end of this path. As I exited there was a very vast clearing. I was on top
of a hill, a valley below me, and another hill on the other side. On the other
hill was an immense temple. I made my way to it. Once there I got a “flash”
of this giant carving on marble of a bunch of Greek people. At the steps I
was told I would meet my guide. I saw a marble statue of a Greek male. I asked
him his name, and as clear as day he said “Hermes”.”
All these years I have been reaching out to the illusive side of my own nature.
The part of me that dreams, believes in magick, the side of me that ponders
the wonders of the universe. I have walked through the rooms of my subconscious
with curious eyes willing to set aside judgment long enough to learn from
my darkness. I have danced with my shadow, all the time seeking that magickal
dark presence that now is embodied by Hermes.
In Wicca Hermes would be termed my spirit guide. He is a soul I have a contract
with in this life, a spirit that guides, and helps me to grow. Carl Jung would
say that he is my “animus”. The inner subconscious opposite to
my outer conscious self. The Tao would term him my yang or masculine self.
For me Hermes has a personality all his own. He is very funny, and does enjoy
playing innocent tricks. He appears as a living marble statue. Sometimes he
is solid, at other times he seems made of light and energy.
Quite recently I am learning to channel Hermes, so that he may speak through
me. He inspires me to write and to to refine my concepts of the universe.
Since I have been in consious contact with Hermes, I see him in my dreams.
So far I have always recognized him up on waking up, not during the dream.
He always does something in the dream that is out of sync, makes me stop in
the dream and think for a moment. Up on waking I see the symbolism he used
to get me to recognise him. In dreams Hermes is either a dark archetype such
as Alice Cooper, or Morpheus. Or he is a human male about 6'4, black wavey
medium length hair, pale skin with an air of youth. I tend to have face to
face interaction with him thoughout the dream.
