h2>Dating : Atlantis Remembered…
HER waves always draw us home…Yemanya or Yeminga, HER seas birthed us all…and, as a species, we have drawn so very far away…again.
The North Atlantic. Odd. I spent so many years living near and loving the Pacific. Yet there is a pull here. Unmistakable and undeniable. And odd.
The last time I felt it this strongly was in 2015 whilst leading a vision journey on the coast of Brittany in France. The scouting mission, which yielded one of the most spectacular sunsets I have yet witnessed, led me back to this location so that others might experience the magic and the mystery.
As part of that second journey, the group of us ventured out to the beach under a cold full moon. The baseball-sized pebbles make walking above the shoreline an adventure in balance, especially in the dark. I made my way to a promontory formed by the now-ebbed tide and sat down on the rocks for what seemed like a very long time. One of my friends brought his iPhone over, playing a piece of music we had collaborated on together. “Listen to this along with the surf,” he said quietly, then melted away into the darkness. I listened, the pull into the water becoming more and more unbearable.
As I gazed out to sea, I saw the curve of a flipper roll quietly offshore. Beckoning, the seal spoke softly of the calm embrace of the waves. I laughed quietly, deep in my heart, knowing I wanted to walk into that water and never return…to walk into the sea and melt away. To walk into eternity, assisted by the marine life that inhabits that bay.
The students who had come with me grew sleepy, cold, then agitated, as I sat, absorbed. The one who had handed me his iPhone melted out of the darkness at my side once more. “I just fell asleep back there, and everyone is cold. We need to go.” Go, where? All of eternity was right. there.
Later, as I sat in a more populated area having a chat with the seabirds, my attention was suddenly drawn beneath the surface of the slightly rippled water as it flowed grey under a cloudy sky. The sun reappeared as I wrote. Absent for the past three days it laughed at me and my musings. “Look. The light on the water always takes you home.” It does, yes. Always. I remember.
The pull to walk into that water and keep walking was so strong, as was the urge to sit and meditate for hours, arguing with my stone-chilled bum. Not that the cold water wouldn’t most likely send me thrashing for shore a few minutes after. The North Atlantic is nothing if not chillingly remorseless. Ruthless, in a surgical, Kaliesque way.
Today I sit on an island in the South Pacific, contemplating Atlantis. Very large island. Odd place to have perspective on a karmic cycle whose experiences have just completed. My Teacher once told me the “Atlantis lifetimes were up…” meaning for karmic completions, processing and release. I thought I understood. I keep understanding more. SHE has a way of teaching us through ever-widening perception.
So, Atlantis… The pull of high vibration lived consciously and with intent? The mystery of what many call a myth and some a legend? Or maybe the time has come to bring that vibration home… here… now. Maybe the time has come to truly see the high vibrational manifestations and the misuse of same. Maybe it is time to see beyond pale and veil. Maybe it has always been ‘time,’ seen from a perspective of timelessness.
Atlantis was remembered here, today, on a very large island in the South Pacific. I am grateful for remembering what came before. And to you, for perusing the musings.
~ Namaste ~
