Star Woman in Love (22 page)

“I’m here to guide you to the Fairy Lake, Oscar. The way is difficult and we won’t be treading it alone. Here are my faithful assistants.”

To a clap of his hands, three white horses galloped into the square. When they arrived at the door of the house, they turned into three men. The Merlin introduced them.

“You must have recognised these renowned Masters of the Mind, dear Twins. Meet Leonardo da Vinci, Sigmund Freud and John Lennon. Oscar, they are here to ensure you will make it to your appointment. As I said, I’m coming along as well. You may ask us any question to your heart’s content. But beware we’ll only answer with riddles.”

We left Morgana’s house together and entered a multicoloured dream. My senses were tuned into the environment and those who populated it. I was at home. You were, too, at last. We reached a bifurcation in the road that stretched from the city out into the countryside, where we kissed and parted company. You went along with the Merlin’s retinue and I continued my journey with Morgana and the Knights. What were we to expect next? When would we be returned to our normal lives on Earth? Our first official visit to Shambhala was going to be a feast of learning. Yet all information was to be kept in our subconscious minds until the time was ripe for it to be put into action.

* * * *

Uisneach, 1 May 1996

Darkness covered the hill. The light would soon come to bless Bealtaine, May Day. The bonfires lit during the previous night were now flickering embers piercing the morning mist like cats’ eyes. Dances had been woven around them. Couples had let their hair down as their loving ways unfolded, covered by blankets under the stars. The night was dedicated to the Sacred Fire, the Light of the Life Force itself. For centuries, fertility, union and growth were celebrated on this date. These ancient rituals had stood the test of time. Like at Samhain, the doors to the Otherworld flung open at Bealtaine.

Holding torches to find their way up the hill, the party of Light Workers wove their way to the ancient site that marked Ireland’s mystical navel. Two good friends of Cassandra’s were among them: Maria-Carmen and Lydia. The group positioned themselves around the Cat’s Stone. Holding hands in a circle, they formed an unlikely patchwork of people. Some were old and looked like respectable middle class pensioners in tweed jackets and wellies. Others were younger and of a more colourful hippy stock. From their encircled voices, a chant of harmonic sounds bridged dimensions and reached their guides in Shambhala.

Nature listened in, waiting for the arrival of the new day with infinite stillness. Idle cows mooed. Dawn’s rosy fingers tantalised the shadow in a foreplay that culminated in the appearance of the sunrise in all its golden glory. The voices of the Light Workers rose in volume and pitch. Their vocalises contained a secret code, a mystical frequency. Their song grew into the climax of the perfect sound wave. Elsewhere in space and time, the lock of the Gates of Shambhala clicked open, and Cassandra and Oscar bid farewell to their friends in the Diamond City. In their astral bodies, they had gained easy access to the place the night before as they slumbered like lovers do after joining their limbs in Sacred Union. Now it was time to return to their physical bodies that were fast asleep under a blanket on the Hill of Uisneach, under the still starry sky.

The campers started to stir in their sleeping bags. Dawn was upon them, tickling their dreams with its light. It was time to arise and partake in the blessings of May Day. Following an ancient propitiatory custom, people washed their faces with the morning dew that is known to have powers of rejuvenation on Bealtaine. Others wandered around the hill to collect flowers and boughs from the mountain ashes or rowan trees, to be later hung across the doorways or on the outside of the windows of their homes. Coffee, fruit and biscuits were shared in the usual tradition of hospitality and generosity associated with the festival.

Cassandra and Oscar woke up in each other’s embrace. Sparkles came from their hands. To their amazement, they were both wearing a Claddah ring which had not been there when they had fallen asleep. They remembered that they had held an impromptu mock wedding ceremony on the Hill the day before. Now their true vows had also been sealed in Shambhala. Cassandra put her hand on Oscar’s heart as a promise to love and respect him forever. No words were spoken. In silence he swore to love and honour her until the end of time. They could by then read each other’s mind with great ease. Then they anointed each the other’s forehead with the morning dew to symbolise the eternity to their bond. Sacred Marriage vows can’t be broken. Most importantly, they can only be made in heaven.

* * * *

Uisneach, 30 April 1996

It was three years exactly to the date we had met. You were never one to remember such trivialities. But I, being female, remembered. Of course, I know time doesn’t really exist; it’s a human construct designed to map out the stories of our lives. Time travellers, however, learn how to use dates as signposts to return to specific space-time junctions from their escapades into eternity. That’s why I always insisted that you should focus on the coordinates of the events constellating our existence together. One day in the future we might want to revisit them. Your artistic disposition made you reluctant to agree. My female ways helped me change your mind.

You were not in bed when I woke up. I walked downstairs and found you in the garden. It was our favourite place in the house, apart from our Bridal Chamber. The trees were decorated with ribbons which we left as messages to the Faeries. That’s how we communicated with them. We would think of the information we wanted to convey to them, speak their name on the ribbon and then tie it to the tree. Plant life is a generous vessel of the Life Force, so that it can be used to deliver thoughts across dimensions. The watercourses of the Earth fulfil the same function with equal effectiveness.

“Good morning, Cassandra! Happy, sunny anniversary!”

The table in the patio was laid with a champagne breakfast to celebrate the occasion of our encounter. You had remembered. We fed each other strawberries and basked in the sunshine. The morning was warmer and more summery than it would have been assumed from the actual date on the calendar. You asked me to follow you to your studio. There was something you wanted to show me.

With champagne flutes in our hands, we went to your artist space, the big two-floor gatehouse at the far end of the garden. It was covered in ivy and had a thatched roof. I always thought it looked like a fairy house, and that’s what I used to call it. We passed through the reception, then along the gallery room where your most recent work was on display, and finally to your studio upstairs. You had the top floor converted into a single room with plenty of light coming from the big windows on each wall. Your ‘sleeping area’ was one level up in the attic.

Your latest oil on canvas was unveiled. The subject was powerful in its simplicity. Your characteristic nervous strokes seemed more relaxed. A long earth-brown road stretched from the centre of the picture through a shady forest full of eyes. A single small dot of bluish light pierced through the top right corner of the composition. However small, it commanded total attention. As I stared at it, the perception of my body became liquid. It was a sign that my cells were tuning into the frequency of Shambhala and my spirit was being called back Home. You had created a piece of art that was capable of connecting our here-and-now dimension to the one we ultimately called Home. One of your Guides, Leonardo, had taught you the technique. Now it was time to reveal the Great Work you were doing to the rest of the world. I couldn’t have been any more proud of you, any more in love with you, and any happier.

After lunch, we headed for the sacred site of Uisneach where we were going to spend the night before Bealtaine. Many friends and acquaintances would be there. The Irish branch of the Godhead Society had organised a concert featuring international renowned musicians. Information had circulated at grass-roots level. The main performance was on the night of the 1st of May, but rituals were also going to take place on the eve of the festival. The Society had managed to ship over some eminent guests: a tribal elder from Australia, two medicine men from Mexico and North America, and the renowned crystal healers from Scotland, Maria-Carmen and Lydia. Only people whose souls were in tune with the Earth’s soul and her tides were invited. Light Workers, energy channellers, healers, shamans and druids were expected to turn up that night. Thanks to your reputation as a shamanic artist, you and I were top of the guest list. Apart from the two of us, in those days nobody was aware of the full scope of our joint powers.

The place looked deserted when we arrived. We walked past the Cat’s Stone and headed north. A ray of sunshine lingered on a flat bit of land punctuated by rounded rocks covered in lichens. At this spot, we transplanted two blue hyacinths we had brought here from our garden. These gentle flowers stand for constancy. They were a symbol of our Union. We moved them to Uisneach to let the Earth know that you and I were growing in strength and beauty together. Our pact was sealed and we wanted to keep it alive. Drawing an imaginary circle in the air and on the ground, we opened a portal between dimensions and let timelessness slip through and into our hearts. The vibrations which ran through our bodies were strong and yet peaceful. We fell on our knees in rapture and wonder. Time became irrelevant and we stayed kneeling until our limbs became uncomfortable. Then you caressed my hair.

“I have an idea, Cassie...”

“What is it?”

You untied the silk white scarf around your waist. Then you held my hand in your hand and tied the scarf around it.

“Handfasting, baby. It just came to me...”

It was a loose knot which wasn’t properly sealed. I tried to secure it but to no avail. We gave up and laughed at the imperfection of the ceremony.

“This is the tie that binds us, my love.”

“Forever and a day, Oscar.”

We were two children out to play. The sun kept dancing around the spot of our improvised marriage. Invisible eyes watched us from the forest on top of the hill, rejoicing in the simplicity of the affection we had for each other. When darkness descended upon the land, these spirit visitors would come to escort us to the Great White Lodge in the Diamond City. For a while longer, however, we were just happy to linger in our private paradise.

* * * *

It was almost midnight. The start of Bealtaine was nigh. Men and women trickled to the place near the Stone where a large bonfire illuminated the blackness of the night. Some wore wreaths of flowers in their hair. Others brought gifts of food and wine to share with the participants. The beating of drums grew louder as the night deepened. Feasting and dancing, over one hundred men and women celebrated the Sacred Fire of Life. Brave couples jumped over the flames in a fertility ritual. Many were kissing.

Oscar and Cassandra sat on the ground watching the revelry in serene contemplation. They seemed detached from the joyful mayhem that surrounded them. Next to them were three non-European looking men. They were the Godhead Society’s prestigious guests. The small older man with gray hair was Cobar Sims, an Aborigine elder from the North Territory. Oscar knew him as he had been a guest of his tribe back in the days immediately preceding his encounter with Cassandra. The tall and imposing middle-aged man with long black hair wearing a woven hat was Takota Two-Bulls, medicine man of the Oglala Lakota. Oscar had visited the reservation where he lived several times. The equally tall and long-haired man clapping his hands to the rhythm of the drums was the Toltec shaman Pedro Mendoza from Mexico. This was his first trip out of his country.

Cassandra and the three visitors clicked at once, in deep recognition of the forces they were serving. Takota told her he was privileged to meet a Star Woman from the West. Cobar insisted that she had the gift of seeing the future through her dreams. Pedro seemed shy and perhaps intimidated by Cassandra’s loveliness, and didn’t talk much to her. But he engaged in a long conversation with Oscar on various shamanic techniques to access the Dark Side and fight its ghosts away.

From the Observation Room in Shambhala, we followed their actions, waiting for the heartbeats of these five spiritually proficient people to synchronise. Upon such instance, much greater Work could be accomplished by them as a group. As the night unfolded and when their states of consciousness reached an even more penetrable level, we would entice their astral bodies to the Great White Lodge. A meeting was to take place to explain matters of great importance. First we had to defend them from the Dark Forces who crept in from the Dark Side of the Otherworld. Their intention is always to stop spiritual warriors during their shamanic flights, claw their astral projections out of the sky, and squash them back into their bodies. If that happened, it might leave indelible marks on their minds and have disastrous consequences for their health. We couldn’t expose our friends to such perils. Their help was necessary for the unfoldment of the Plan at a crucial junction. That’s why we had sent their Totems to protect them: Cassandra’s butterfly, Oscar and Pedro’s lizards, Cobar’s cockatoo and Takota’s eagle. They were hiding in the Uisneach Forest, with their magical eyes peeled to monitor the deeds of their protégés, and ever ready to intervene in case of attack.

Many stars were out that night. Venus shone brightly, as the diamond in the firmament’s crown. Oscar and Cassandra felt at one with it, with its frequency of never-ending love. Takota stared at it long and sweetly, until sleep took over his body. Cobar prayed to the spirits of the forest to keep his heart on his mission. Pedro focused on his breath to prepare for his imminent dream-work. Their Totems approached them and raised their frequencies before the Dark Forces could close in. It the blink of an eye, the Teleportation Machine zapped our five guests over to the Palace of the Great White Lodge where we were waiting for them. It was Cassandra and Oscar’s debut as attendees at one of our meetings. They looked delighted and thrilled. The other three men were regular participants in our sessions. We informed them that they were to organise a gathering of highly evolved souls six years later. Much preparation would be needed in advance.