On a beautiful mid-summer morning in late July, I walked to the special banyan tree that is a working space for me — a portal to the Deep Earth (see “The Place of the Ancestors” in The Shards). I walk for exercise and, with friends, also for sociability. But this kind of walk is different: I go because I’m called.
Entering a large sacred area, the remains of an old stone platform, I stopped at a guardian stone and touched in.
“They are waiting for you,” I was told.
I headed for the banyan without delay.
Stepping through a curtain of adventitious roots, I dropped down into a small earthen bowl below the tree and offered greetings. I was directed to sit at the base of the tree and did so, as I have many times before, feeling instantly shielded by the root-curtain, hidden in the bowl, engulfed by another world.
The stillness there is indescribable.
I was given new instructions: to help realign the axis, or “spine,” of the Earth, which is off-kilter. Even a small misalignment can have drastic consequences, as any chaos theorist knows. The axis alignment also relates to the seating of the New Earth templates.
I’m to carry out this assignment at home, as I do with clearings, consciously linking with the banyan portal as I begin the work. I’m to carry out the work soon but, as usual, no specific timetable was given. I was reminded of my own experience last spring when two vertebrae in my neck went out and I needed the services of a chiropractor to put things right. This, then, is chiropractic for the planet…and why not?
I sat for a few moments, absorbing what I’d been told.
Then I heard a woman singing, the sound emanating from the direction of the dirt access road, which is close by. Though I couldn’t hear the words clearly, I realized, from their cadence and tone, this wasn’t singing, it was chanting. Hawaiian chanting. A male voice broke in briefly, as if in response to the woman’s call. Was this a traditional protocol asking permission to enter? I had never encountered chanters here before but wasn’t surprised; I know well that others recognize and honor, in their own ways, the sacred nature of this site.
Clearly it was time to leave — my instructions were complete, and others were entering the area to do ritual work. So I stood and made my way across the old stone platform, heading towards the road.
I looked down the road, then all around, scanning for the chanters.
There was no one.
I listened again.
There was no sound.
I looked and listened some more.
Still no one, nothing.
I continued my walk, heading down the long rampway to the stony beach at Kapanai’a Bay, marveling at the bleed-through between the worlds.
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Two days later I became drowsy while reading in the afternoon. It was a heavy feeling, as if I’d been drugged — a feeling I’ve experienced before when the Unseen Ones deem it time, when scheduling is up to Them and not me. I went into the session room, lay down on the bed, and, already in a deep state in which speech was nearly impossible, moved into the heart of the work. I remember consciously linking with the banyan portal, as instructed, but nothing more. I know — I trust — that everything proceeded as it should. The work completed the following day. Whether more will be required I don’t yet know.
I was struck by a passage I read that same afternoon, whether before or after the session I cannot recall — a powerful synchronicity — from Jerome Bernstein’s groundbreaking book Living in the Borderland. Bernstein is talking about his experiences with ceremony at the Indian Pueblos in the American Southwest (p. 13; emphasis below mine):
“As I watch the barefoot dancers — men, women, and children — dance from sunrise to sunset, hour after hour after hour in the hot, shadeless plaza, I am moved by their gift to us. When I see one of the center men hold erect a huge ten- to 15-foot wooden pole and circumambulate the line of dancers, waving the pole back and forth, emulating a corn plant sprinkling its pollen in blessing over the dancers and observers, I am thankful to him. I realize that these dancers and the headman with the pole are also emulating the earth rotating on its axis, maintaining the balance in nature necessary for the continuance of life…”