Sacred Remembrances

A Story of Thirteen

Thirteen years ago, today, I lived high in the Sierra Nevada mountains of California. Having visited this wilderness for years, living there was a gift beyond imagining. I knew moving to the mountains would change me, my life, and my experience of reality. I had no idea how true that premonition might become.

I moved 12 April 2009. On 5 June I experienced a white stroke {meaning my brain did not bleed}. My old life, in shreds anyway, had ended.

“Life on the move,” a friend called it. My reality had shifted from particular to wave form. Joyous, it was, in every particular. Each ripple a gift of completion in some form.

Patterns emerged and ebbed like sea and sun on shifting sands. And now, again, reality has shifted, like a sand painting, each design perfected into breathless beauty, then swept away into oblivion. What art, what grace, what blessings!

A twelve-year-cycle is a completion, of sorts. This one has been no exception. A return to the Rockies, guided by Her gleaming Presence, finishing, honing, refining. ‘What’ yet to be revealed. ‘Next’ only the barest shimmer on the edges of what is to be.

A thirteen cycle is a reality handed over. It is surrender of the grateful kind. Fresh perspective shifts perception, widening, deepening its frequencies of comprehension and wisdom.

What I have learned about 13: We all live within the orb of our beliefs, our thought patterns, our habits of behavior, our guardians and our guides. Each circle of twelve is inhabited by all of these, from every realm, singing harmoniously as a part of Source’s ever-blooming flower of life. Life is an ever-shared resource, whose sovereignty is Her own.

Many talk about the twelve and the one, making the assumption that the self, the me, real or unreal, authentic or false, is the one in the center. That reality exists. They all do.

Many speak about the twelve, with the sacred center being emptiness, the place where form dissolves and re-configures through formlessness and into form once more. That reality exists. They all do.

What I know for certain, is that Source lives within all such realities, all transformations, and all magics, of and between all worlds. She is not only the center, but all that harbors life. Cyclically, and moment by moment, Her Omnipresence shifts and changes.

Past the illusions, behind the lies, the double standards, and the mixed messages of ‘fear world,’ She thrives within us all.

An interesting word, harbor. It implies safe rest, safe home, a refreshing of needed resources, a return to what is love.

No wonder ‘thirteen’ made the old world so afraid. And no wonder that fear was passed on, to keep us all believing we are far from home.