As I walked my solitary path, the Goddess led me carefully, slowly, tenderly. First, I made a long journey around Scotland, my motherland. And as my family and I went sunwise round the coast, visiting stone circles and souterrains, and barrows all along the route, I could feel buried memories and slumbering parts of myself awakening. Sitting in a dolmen in the Celtic ruins on the western coast, the wind hushed in the cave-like interior, I saw a circle of women in the ethers threshing grains onto a hide beneath, chanting in an ancient tongue. And I knew I’d been one of them, long, long ago in that very place. I could feel a stream of light in my left leg opening during that journey, brightening and strengthening, only later realizing it was the Goddess flow up my left leg into my inner feminine. And over all the intervening years, I’ve noticed that stream is always brighter whenever I stand on Scottish soil, dimming as soon as I get on the plane to return to the US. My heart always dims a bit, too. But that first trip was only the beginning.
Next, the Goddess led me to a Celtic shaman, who taught me to speak with rocks, rivers, turtles, and shells. Well, no, he taught me to listen to them. His drumming brought clear visions into my mind in moments, images of stone circles in the Orkneys, myself a druid, a male lifetime of ancient days. It was my heart that unfolded into brightness that time, as I felt an inner devotion to the earth from those long-forgotten days that drew me Home to silence with a quiet intensity, surprising in its strength. So, I began to take time away from my therapy practice and the mountainous needs of my clients, as well as moments of quiet under the trees of our yard, away from the busy-ness and noise of my daughters, though they were much beloved. I didn’t realize it was the Goddess in the stillness, either, not then. But I felt how starving I was for rest, small sheltered moments when I wasn’t taking care of anyone else. And I knew some Otherworldly Presence was holding me during those quiet times, too, filling me with gentle comfort and silent pregnant power, as I slowly learned to recognize the Goddess, the White Tara, by Her energy signature. She especially touched my feminine within and my inner child, parts of myself my family and clients rarely noticed, for they were too busy needing me, instead.
But it was energy school that brought Her fireworks to life, an angel coming into the ethers four days into the very first session, who hovered before me, his outline so bright, I could barely discern his features, his light wafting down over me like illumined mist. When I asked who he was, he said his name was Metatron. And I told him I’d never heard that name, for he wasn’t in the Bible, the only place I’d read any angel names before. He only replied that, no, he wasn’t in books, for he preferred to be experienced, not read about. And I saw nine symbols in the ethers on my chest being rapidly changed, symbols I’d never seen before, either, ones that looked like those squiggly astrology figures, with the sound of tapping in the background, as if an old typewriter was being used. And from that moment on, every time someone came up to me, I’d have a rolodex of photos go through my mind, spinning rapidly forward, all the past lives I’d shared with that individual. I found myself hugging total strangers at energy school, saying things like, “Oh, you were my scribe in Egypt! I’m so happy to see you again after all these years!,” as if 3,000 years ago was last year! It took a while to get my head wrapped around that past life influx, about six weeks. But by then, I’d settled into healing work with more past life memories arising in those visions. The Goddess pulls white-winged surprises out of Her bag sometimes!
It wasn’t always easy, though. There was pain, ongoing not-so-fun surprises, too, when She opened some old fear for healing in my life, again. But I got used to that as well. And it empowered me greatly, my feminine especially, as She knew it would, as I gradually understood that those fears weren’t even real, that I could transmute them during my next meditation, simply and easily, and they would then disappear from my life, poof! This was profound, this realization that my own inner beliefs were creating my one little world on the outside, and that I could change it all, just by melting ancient fears away. It was like gathering a bouquet of wildflowers, this process, too, for behind every fear was some truth, some strength or skill I’d left behind, beside the threshed ancient grains or those terribly patriarchal pyramids, perhaps. How astonished I was, for instance, when I picked up my little harp for the first time, to feel I had played it long before in Greece. And over months and years, I could feel the inner grip of fear begin to loosen, too, deep within, places that had weighed me down all my life, as the gifts of many lives were woven into the fibers of my being.
Then Tara drew me into ceremony. Ah, this opened wide joyful portals to angels, the fae, Tibetan masters, ancestors from my star tuath, so many who came to help. Whole sheaths of fear were washed off in seconds as a workshop participant knelt before the Celtic high cross in the middle of my flower essence garden or stepped into the river below my home! What a magical experience that was! If you are ever drawn to attend or create ceremonies, DO it! Just be very careful who you call in from above to assist you, for it’s an extremely powerful process. And then, too, I saw how some of the deepest exchanges between participants at workshops, the biggest heart openings of all, occurred as folks chatted over lunch when they were the most relaxed. I just watched from behind the kitchen counter sometimes as inner heart roses or lotuses opened and brightened, breathing gently, while people munched on carrot sticks and never noticed. Shifts come in simple, unnoticed ways as well.
But what I want to say most of all, the whole point of this article, is how those ancient memories of goddess times, before the shift to patriarchy 3,000 years ago, unearthed my inner matriarch, my inner wise woman, my inner goddess, mine and everyone I worked with. For those ancient pagan times especially were when women were relied on, respected for their generative powers, looked up to, in fact. It was a matriarchal consciousness then. I was speaking with a friend about this recently, and she commented how she had no idea what the ancient life of her motherland was like. And I felt a momentary sadness, thinking, oh, sweetie, but then your inner feminine powers must still be buried, all your talents from those days! And the knowing washed through me then how carefully the Goddess has been growing all of me into blossoming, all of everyone who dips into the long ago. How very blessed I felt in that small moment, how full inside! So, if you feel moved to dip your toes into light healing or past lives or even reading ancient history, especially of your own motherland, any of the places you may have left pieces of your souls behind, oh, DO it, love! Gather your own lilies and roses and Queen Anne’s lace of ancient times into the shining bouquet of love you truly are.
About the Author:
Jill Rose Frew, Ph.D. is a clinical psychologist, energy healer, workshop leader, and author. She is hoping to found an intentional community in southern Scotland in the near future. For information, please see www.thehomestarcommunity.org
She is author of Guardians of the Celtic Way (her name was Jill Kelly then), and Alba Reborn, Volume One Revised, and Volumes Two and Three.
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