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When the Acheron Runs Deep – Journey’s End and the New Voyage onto the Ocean and Beyond.

It is no glib cliché to say life is like a journey. Likewise, feelings, emotions and experiences are also a journey; they have a beginning, a middle, and an end. They can also be likened to a River. It begins at the source – a high mountain or hill, perhaps, new, fresh and full of hope and optimism. Along the way, they collect rocks and stones, silt and debris. They also spawn life and sometimes destroy life too. Emotions ebb and flow like Rivers. They can be intense, overflowing and destructive, or slow, gentle and meandering. They carry forth ideas and notions of how things should be, ever travelling towards that goal of what one wants life to become. The River can flow smoothly or become congested and clogged up. And so can our emotions.

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 The River is a living thing; it must be allowed to flow freely and breathe otherwise it will stagnate and die. And so it is with our emotions. We must let them move freely and express them lest we become like the River – blocked and stagnant. Inside we begin to decay and all life therein perishes. The silver fishes of our hopes, dreams and aspirations perish if they are not allowed to breathe. And so, should our River cease to flow, then so do we and we must ask ourselves why.

It may be because we have built a dam across it; a dam that may be the inability or an unwillingness, to express how we feel. It may be that our feelings have no place, no outlet and so they are turned inward only for them to turn to pain, resentment and anger. It may be we simply do not know what to do without ourselves anymore having tried everything we thought humanly possible and that it is time to just turn the valve and let the water through. Either way, the water must flow otherwise it can and will drown us.

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The River gives life but also takes it away and it teaches us that it is okay to keep moving, even if it is only slowly, for your final destination is at hand. All Rivers must end their journeys at the Ocean and it is here all their debris, flotsam and jetsam are let go and they become one with the Source.

Rivers change on their journeys. In the beginning they are clean and fresh and new. By the end, they are burdened and weary. As they reach the Ocean, they let go. And that is okay. It is okay to wake one morning and realise you do not feel the same as you did yesterday. It is okay to release yourself of the old logs and rocks and stones you have accumulated on your journey, for you have finally reached the Ocean and a new horizon awaits.

Let not guilt and obligation bind you to people and situations if your journey is at an end. If you have experienced hardship and pain, it is okay to move on and melt into the Ocean and start again for some people come into our lives simply to teach us that it is okay to let go no matter how painful that lesson is. But it is a valuable lesson nonetheless.

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To love deeply and let go is one of the most difficult things one can do, whether it is by choice or by circumstance. But there are times when our journey has been long and hard and we have let our Rivers become poisoned with grief and sadness, leaving no room for life to grow. But during the River’s time, many small things have came and went unnoticed. And sometimes it is okay to let love die if it has no purpose, nor a home to go to anymore. To wake up and no longer feel love in your heart as you once did is not a reflection of your character; it is simply a reflection of that love being confined to a pool that is slowly drying up. There is no need to save it if there is no reason for it to be saved. Let it go. Holding on to it only hurts the soul in the long run.

The Acheron runs deep for some, and it runs long and very slowly. But like all Rivers, it will reach the Ocean, the wide, unending, sun-kissed Ocean under a cloudless cerulean sky, where your sorrow and burdens will melt away like they never were. All River journeys must end here, at the Ocean, where hope and optimism spring anew.

Always remember you are part of something bigger than yourself, a part of the Whole, the All. As one journey ends, another begins.

Always keep moving.

Your Friend On the Sands of Time

Imeldra Moonpaw

The Return of the Skylark after the Hurricane -The Mountain Stands Strong

Life has many ups and downs. Some more down than up, but one thing is clear – every dilemma, every crisis, every mistake, every downfall is an opportunity for learning. It all depends on your perspective.

When one is in the midst of the hurricane, one cannot see the sky. One cannot see the blue of the canopy, or the pink or yellow of the setting sun. One can only see and feel the screaming gale and the thrashing rain. The Fall of the Old Life is beginning. And it is a dreadful place to be.

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However, during the midst of the storm we forget it is passing. It can take several storms, and several hurricanes, to get to this point in time, the time when we change beyond recognition. It takes the Mother of All Storms to reach a point in life where we crawl out of the sea, or the wreckage of our own lives, wondering who and what we are. But this is the First Day. The New Day. For after we have endured the death of the Old Self, we have been given the gift of the Second Life. This Second Life, we are changed and nothing can ever be the same. But, my Dear Human, this is not a change to be feared or resisted. The Second Life offers us that which we denied ourselves in the First. We get to begin again, and set a course of our own choosing.

One of the main things that we experience is what we are willing to accept. We have faced and endured the death of the Old Self. This needed to happen. It was painful, dark and often lonely. But the dark can only give us more appreciation of the light. Our perspectives change, our preferences change. What matters to us and what doesn’t changes. What we hold to be of value changes. What we bring through into the Second Life is of great importance because it is of great value – we treasured it enough to hold onto despite the storm trying to tear it from our grasp. Our hold, and our faith and our desire to keep those things close regardless of the tempest’s fury, was worth holding on to.

We also learn that what we thought makes us does not. The outside world, society, people, have their own opinions and thoughts about what makes us – a man, a woman, a good individual, a bad individual. There are roles placed upon us by others and, for the most part, we feel the need to fulfil those roles, or live up to them in some way, and sometimes that need is deep and powerful and calls upon our instincts. But it does not make us. It does not make us who we are, and does not define us, nor does not fulfilling that role define us either. We choose our roles in life and, to some degree, we can be influenced by others because of shame, or guilt or obligation. But to feel we need to take on roles that we do not desire nor had planned for ourselves is not being authentic to our true self and we can often pay a terrible price for living a lie.

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You see, my Dear Human, your soul, your being, your character, your integrity, values, interests and how you treat others is what defines you, not your gender or your station in life. You are not defined by others. You can only define yourself. We can say we are successful, high-flying and wealthy, but how often do we say we are good, generous, funny or kind? Too often the good things we feel about ourselves or what others say about us are dismissed because one simply cannot accept one can possess those qualities for reasons only the heart knows.

But the world is still kind and good and just. It is still beautiful and the mountain still stands strong after the hurricane has passed overhead. But parts of it have gone – the old, weather-worn sides and the dead wood. New growth springs anew. New life, new ideas, new concepts. The mountain still stands but is forever changed by the storm, but not in the way you expect. No, nothing will ever be the same again, but the world is viewed with fresh eyes, with a deeper understanding of how things are, of why things are. Sometimes the storms come and we must endure them. Sometimes things happens but we are not meant to know why. But the inside of the mountain remains unmoved. Some may disapprove of its new appearance, but they cannot know the heart and mind of it, or why it is; why it chooses to grow bristle-cone pine instead of Scots or cedar. But the opinions and criticisms of those who do not know what storms it has weathered are of no concern. It matters not, only that it stands and will continue to do so regardless of what the fox or the deer might say.

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The mountain weathers the storms, is changed by them but does not crumble. It is not defined by them nor by what attaches itself to it or what others use it for. It is a thing of nature. It is what it is. It defines itself. It is strong in its core. Veins of silver and gold run through it. It is made of crystal and granite. No storm can bring it down.

And the skylark sings overhead after the storm has passed.

The Mountain and the Fire Inside it.

Unbroken. Undefeated. Unconquered.

Yours Under the Sacred Oaks

Imeldra Moonpaw