Ut Pictura Poesis (wanderlustlover) wrote,
Ut Pictura Poesis
wanderlustlover

2014 RCG Fall Retreat - Day I(.V) of III



Goddess of Mystery, cloak me in your magic veil
Avalon is calling, waiting for the mist to rise
Come be the magic on the isle of mystery


2014 RCG Fall Retreat


I realized in pulling out my notes BOS that I stopped the post for Day I before the actual end of Day I.

Friday

After we came in from Rhiannon we were given a short break, to write and process through what we were doing. To add one word, or a phrase to our map for what we learned from our time with Rhiannon and The Red Spring. I wrote the words "Wash yourself clean."

I spent a lot of this time thinking and processing the shock of what had happened at The Red Spring. The daunting nature of the message, very certain in my blood and my bones that it was the universe's announcement of what I was working on for the weekend.

After processing time was passed we were brought back together to meet the second goddess of the night. Ceridwen was called to the group.



We settled down for another trance meditation, to journey once again across the space of Avalon. From the shores where the barge had made berth, across Rhiannon's Red Spring, through the orchard of apples, on and on and on, until we reached The Tor, where Ceridwen would be waiting for us. We were asked to open our eyes, and choose when best we felt compelled, to answer the questions she left or to go to her at the Tor.

In no rush, still from my first epiphany, I opted to do the questions first.



1. What is your shadow? How does it keep you from manifesting your Authentic Priestess Self?

My other half. My magical dark. My unbound self.

(It doesn't.)

2. What would be the most frightening thing you could come to discover about yourself?

I had the power to accomplish all of this all along and squandered it.

3. How would your Authentic Priestess Self be transformed if you transformed your shadow?

I might lose my balance. I might let go of my desperation for survival that ket me alive for years. I might only be starting again on this journey. The way I already have.


When I finished my writing I got up to go to the Tor. But there was a line, so there was a bit of waiting and drink more hot spicy tea from our beverages sister. The wait was maybe twenty or thirty minutes, before you were the one called from the inside, to the outside landing. Where you waited alone, in the dark and cold, while the priestess before you was led by The Lady of the Lake the labyrinth which led to the Tor.

From there, about ten minutes later, she returned, with someone else who had finished, and took my hand. I remember her face in the darkness. Her white mantle gleaming in the lantern light. The rugged, bumpy terrain, walking across the fields, as my breath came out in white puffs and darkness was a thick ink over everything, but the lights of the labyrinth and the brilliant spill of stars everywhere overhead.

I did not expect to end up so moved and wound up in the labyrinth, watching the lights at my feet that appeared every foot and half. A single tiny candle with little more than half a foot to a foot of light. Enough that between each there was a shadow of darkness creeping back in before the next light brightened again. The terrain remain rocky, a climb, and a combination of remembering to balance and be careful by feel.

I thought a lot on my epiphany, my nerves, and the things I had written as I walked the labyrinth, until the path finally opened, and in the very center was Ceridwen in the think obsidian black, with dark, rough pillows and a single fire burning at her side. Leaving her almost entirely cloaked in the dark of the night, face shadowed and stars like a cape all around her, once I was seated at her feet.

I was very confused at this point, because there was no direction, and I didn't really feel like the message I came to ask, or the words I had said made sense. Because what I got back in return was a message I understood, but not one related to the quandary I had. Though I keep those words with me, in case they will one day make far more sense.

After that I walked the labyrinth against, backwards, retracing the path back to the great room.

I took out my journal feeling unsettled and a little disappointed and started writing.

- I know the name of my shadow and I call it fear. Fear that I might have made it these four years, made it. Fought this war. Worn my paint, dawned my armor. Won my war, but don't know quite how to believe I have won. How to put down my doubt, my (insanely needed) strength. How do I let myself go? How do I believe that this is not the lull before the next fall, the next devastation? How do I find the faith and exhilaration in victory? How do I leave it all behind me on the battlefield when I walk off?

- My Secondary Shadow: Her

- Ceridwen said that I had a big heart, and am capable of so much love. To go toward that thing that is so much bigger than me. I think about my children and all the terrible things on their shoulders and how much I want to help them, inspire them, make them feel safe.

- I don't feel she understood what shadows I brought with me, but I understood what she chose to tell me.


In a peculiar mood, and with the wash of everything swirling in my head, I headed to bed after we got our instructions to spend the night in silence until the morning would come.


The Journey to Avalon
Part I | Part I.V | Part II | Part III


[This entry was originally posted at http://wanderlustlover.dreamwidth.org/2283113.html. Comment on either at your leisure.]
Tags: job: english teacher, jobs, pictures, rcg, rcg retreats, religion
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