Into the Crystal Cave

Glastonbury Tor is considered by most who've studied these things to be the actual Isle of Avalon. In times past, there was tidal marsh all around the hills, which gave rise to mists that shrouded the Tor from view. The clear days would reveal a still surface of water that reflected the sky. It looked like an island floating on glass, thus the name- Glass Town Burrough.

Avalon is rich with mythical history. Arthur receives his sword here, Merlin studies magik, the mourning Joseph of Arimathea guides his followers across all of Southern England by following sacred signs to arrive at nearby Wearyall Hill. There he plants his staff and it grows into a tree. The Tor iteslf is hollow in many of these myths, home to the fey and to the morrigan, the nine wise women who may or may not have descended from the refugees from Knossos.

I am aware of these things as I walk, and I learn from Brian that there are actual limestone hollows that are accessed by a tunnel on the norhtern face of the hill by the local water company. We have walked for nearly six hours, now, and we've reached the final circuit. Some who walk continue around the south edge of the hill and onto the top, to enter the center of the labyrinth in a traditional manner, by being surrounded by the circuits that have just been walked. I feel certain that the center of this labyrinth is actually deep in the heart of this unusal place, and I'm pleased to learn that my guide agrees.

We stop our journey at a large stone under a lonely tree. It's a huge oval of iron ore, like the egg of a dragon, like an anchor to which one might attach for descent into the dark unknown. On the ridge above me, a single crow watches as we arrive. I sit there, wearing a blindfold to keep the distractions to a minimum, and Brian guides me in meditation as I complete my journey etherically. Stairs down, and a turn, and stairs again. A whole labyrinth of downward inward turnings, and finally an entrance to a cavern that shines with light from the open roof.

Nine thrones in a semi circle, and nine cloaked and hooded forms await me. I enter with hesitation, having come so far, yet still subject to awe. The form in the center stands and beckons, and I answer by drawing near. She embraces me and speaks gentle words of welcome. Then she tells me, "You are my messenger." I am surprised. She nods gently, assuring me that I heard right, that she spoke as she intended, that there is no error. Her sisters rise laughing, dancing, transforming into crows, and flying away through the open roof. She changes, too, and is gone. For the briefest moment, I realize that I could fly with them. Then I return to my human state of being, and turn to walk out.

The crystalline labyrinth is easier going up, though, contrary to the laws of gravity, but in accordance to the will of the morrigan. I blink in the light of the outer day. Brian offers me a pouch, and tells me to draw a card. I reach in, trusting, and draw one. As I turn it over, he tells me, "This is your path." The card is the High Priestess.

I feel frightened by the calling, grateful for the opportunity, affirmed in my journey, and startled without being surprised. I understand why I'm restructuring my whole life, too. I'm nearly done with my human obligations. I have a commitment to keep with Alexander, and that's all. For myself, and for my journey, there needs to be a clarity and simplicity that comes with relative solitude. I'm moving toward making my spiritual commitments my only commitments.

Seven circuits in six hours, and a pause for the journey inward. Half the day is gone, and we have a long walk home. We begin outward. The movement is easy, high on the Tor, because the circuits are smaller. We've barely gone half a circuit, when I see Brian pause. At his feet is a perfect four-leaf clover. I'm delighted for him. But he plucks it and hands it over, "This is for you." I'm delighted for me, for the instant, then I realize the difficulties I will face if I come home with a four leaf clover for myself and none for Zander.

Almost immediately, my eyes are drawn downward. And in cheerful benediction, the fey present me with another four leaf clover... Acres of hillside, sprawling with nettles and thistles and grass and wildflowers. We land in the patch of clover that has two anomolies. I can almost hear them laughing. Now I have one for me and one for Zander. Then Brian points out that we're off the path, and as we return, it seems clear that we were taken on our little side journey on purpose.

And isn't every little side journey on purpose? My little side journey to Wales, my little side journeys into firefighting, body guard work, chauffering, my little side journey as a domestic goddess, my little side journey into parenthood for nigh two decades... I dig for deep purposes, and I smile at the obvious ones. Life is so generous, the universe so loving, my blessing so many.

Namaste,
Crow