Storytime in the Liminal Lands
Once upon a time, way back in the mists, the earliest shamans boldly wrote their liminal journeys into the Akashic records for posterity. Other shamans swam in those waters whilst madmen drowned in them. I dip my toes in and out whilst all about me the volcanic broth of twenty first century chaos is heaving wildly. As a last ditch attempt to save us from the Kali Yuga, apocalyptic mess we’ve created on earth, the Liminal gods and goddesses are offering us a leg-up with free entrance passes into these worlds without the years of living as hermits in caves in the Himalayas. It is time my fellow journeymen, my slackers and reprobates, to change our way of relating to our world, ourselves and our best beloveds.
Enough of tentative toe dipping into the liminal streams! This is an opportunity for full immersion living.
As an enticement into further discovery, the liminal gods and goddesses offer me Amrita. I woke up this morning submersed in sweetness - Like dew on a spider’s web in the early morning light, this nectar of the gods was dripping down into my heart and belly from the crown of my head. My precious archetypal beings of light were feeding it to the imaginal cells in the heart of each of my physical ones. While the rest of me turns to a pupal kind of mush, my imaginal cells ignite the DNA blueprint for creating a wholesome, integrated, interdependent way of life on earth.
My imaginal cells start to plump up into their fullness of being. They ask for my soft, delicate, tender, whisper-close attention, as if I were listening to a Soul Integration client or a young baby who communicates without speech. They want rest and incubation time. They need ambrosia. And they respond beautifully to the liminal gods and goddesses; those inner archetypal images of the highest aspects of my consciousness who gift me exactly what I long for in order to be able to engage with my shadowy psyche.
Oh those demons that emerge from the hidden, shady corners within my wounded psyche as soon as I give you the attention that you long for. I do not conjure you out of thin air, I merely set you free from the places where you believe you have been protecting me from harm. Dearest guardians of my tiny, smashed up pieces, thank you and may you travel well into the light.
And so my best beloveds, where does that leave us in the happily ever after realms?
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Robyn Sheldon, South Africa, firstname.lastname@example.org,