At the Turning of Time

In preparation for self-publishing a book of personal essays, and by way of announcement, I suppose, I went looking for one of them this morning to first publish here. I didn’t look too hard, just clicked on a title. Ah… “At the Turning of Time” was written at the recent turn of the century, always an auspicious time for humanity. For me, the movement from one century to another could not have been more potent or portentous. Within six months of writing the essay, my life changed in ways I could never have imagined. I am here today, doing what I now do because 1999 was an end-time (no more working in historic preservation – yes, there’s symbology in that) and 2000 both a destination and a leaping-off point. The following essay foretells that tale, at least as it’s come to be told so far.

At the Turning of Time, 31 December, 1999

I look at the world, see its good and bad, light and dark, and know that I Am all of it.  I have been afraid of this “Knowing” for a long, long time; having allowed fear to lead me for millennia, I acknowledge it only now.  Signs from hawks, crows and eagles, plus relinquishment of power to earth-bound entities, finally forces me to consider stepping off the sharp-edged rim of solid ground into seemingly cavernous and empty air.  If I do this (truth is, I already have), I am required to trust that a footbridge will appear beneath each step I take.

An Eve with Three Faces, this night… a new year, a new century said to be ushering in “one thousand years of peace.”  I hear a great, low moaning, the creaking sound of Time shifting in its bed of detached and neutral truth.  The first two thousand years of the Christian world have concluded.  What power there may be in this Turning is not mine to portend.  I can only use its symbology for my own movement, my own turning.  And turn I must.

Who is this soul expressing human life with so much courage, yet so much fear?  From Deepak Chopra’s The Return of Merlin: “Society isn’t prepared to imagine a soul wandering through time to heal its grief.”  I resonate to these words like a tired field hand, who, sooner than her companions, hears from miles away the longed-for bell of day’s end.  I am not so different from those around me, just more awake, and feeling more separate, though all I have ever needed was to feel connected.  For so long I have been alone in my circling fear and visible in my circle of courage, creating life in a way that looks to the outsider to be both beautiful and comforting.  Yet within my heart has continued to dwell the helplessness of the uncomforted, the isolation of the inconsolable.

Again from Chopra:  “Hours passed, and yet the circle endured and widened as more people kept coming to add to it.  It was as if a light had gone out into the world and everyone who dreamed of a new Camelot woke up.  Each understood the message from the reading of the stone.  This is the world you have dreamed from the purity of your heart. … Merlin’s stone had set up music in the air, bells whose liquid notes were ringing over all the earth.”

That there may yet be hope, that there may indeed exist an archetype for purity of heart, that my heart may find a way to dwell within it, brings sacred healing tears.  I, who have been so afraid of a race belief called “evil,” long with all my being to know and embody the power of truth that would allow me to, as Chopra writes, “sink into the core of peace inside [me], which [I have] named the Grail.”

As I slept in the early morning light of this day, I dreamed of not having enough light to do the work being asked of me in the dream. Though I was not shown what my true work might be, at least I understood that to do it requires illumination.  For too long I have lived with a darkness in which only fear can grow, and since I have resisted that darkness, I have given it power by dwelling within its fear.

In this morning’s dream-time I also drove down a street in my town and saw several old houses, historic structures, ones I had not seen before.  They’d not been there the last time I was on that street, and I was surprised and even shocked by their appearance, given that it has been my paid job to know about the history of this community.  What do these structures represent to me in my quest for Camelot?

Are there places within me toward which I still need to go, emotions and situations I still need to embrace in order to free myself from a known and unknown past?  If so, if there is some illuminatingly dark place left I have yet to visit, I ask all that is holy to take my hand and lead me there.  I will go willingly; I will step off this rim of earth into the seemingly empty air, trusting an invisible footbridge beneath me, for I need this long dark night to come to an end; I need the light of the thousand years of peace to lead me home.

© Amy Pierce and In Spiritual Wonder, 2010. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Amy Pierce and In Spiritual Wonder with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.