The Oak in The Mist

The Oak in the Mist

My life ended a long time ago.

Again and again and again.

My dance with Set, in the liminal spaces, is a constant of endings.

But to have an ending there must be a beginning. There have been many beginnings.

The light of dawn creating muted colour in the grey water droplets of the mist, rising from the earth. The sun gradually dispersing the mist to reveal a new path.

I have become accepting of this unfolding, although not entirely comfortable. I have laid down my arms, the battle against the will of the Divine is not worth it. It is unwinnable. There is one piece of the puzzle that I remembered, that helped me to accept and gave me the courage to wave the white flag.

I know why I’m here.

Set has been a brother. An adversarial ally. He has shattered and scattered many versions of me to the four winds. Isis, Nephthys and Anubis have guided me to the pieces worthy of retrieving, helping me through the mysterious myst of undoing, unknowing, and ultimately putting me back together in a new form each time.

In this way I have lived many lives in one lifetime. And I am at the hard earned point of seeing the parts that have always remained, through all versions of me. These are my essence and what Set has been showing me all along.

And the Oak, emerging out of the violet hued mist on this October morning serves as the sturdy, rooted centre of that essence, anchoring it in the physical. My maternal family name meaning ‘head of the oaks’, and my deep resonance with my ancestral lands of England and Ireland. My spirituality grounded in Druidry and inspired by the cosmos. My ability to see and sense nature in many dimensions at once. These are all connections to my essence that I cannot ignore, but must gather close.

My voice, the understandings of the world that so many cannot yet see or believe. My yearning to convey the magic and mystery and awaken the many into their own voice and true self. The origins of my voice in the planet Mercury, that other trickster god.

My passion for truth and knowledge, esoteric and metaphysical, ancient and historical. My ability to see patterns beyond the veil of others’ understandings. My naivety and playful, childlike innocence, the deep love of love itself emanating from the peace and harmony that comes from communion with the Divine in every cell of my being.

All of these things are my essence, and yet there is so much that is more, indescribable, ethereal.

I can see her now, my essence, as she skips around the base of the Oak, golden hair flowing, not a care in the world. She laughs with a deep joy that only those truly at ease in themselves and the world they have created, can be. She is innocent, yet deeply wise. Animals flock to her, joining her dance, for they sense the shedding of the broken human and the integration of her Sovereignty. She is princess and queen. She is land and sea. She is sun and moon. She encapsulates the all into one simple form of pure delight.

I long to join her, to fully step into that interdimensional self, with more than just my etheric bodies. I know I will join her once more, when this flesh and blood body is depleted. I know how lucky I am to know my Soul while still breathing the air of Earth. I can embody her, feel my essence flowing through the energetic parts of me, and bring her memory back into the physical realm. But it is akin to the memory of a lover, that flow of ecstasy that lights up the body in deep connection with the other, yet is not sustainable for long periods of time.

Memories linger. They rise like the mist, feeding the roots of the Oak at my centre, entwining their roots through my heart, drawing me a little closer every single day. Allowing me to sip from the holy grail, the nectar of the gods.

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By Kirsten Ivatts

Kirsten Ivatts is a guide, mentor and Soul Friend to the awakened Soul. She is an author, interdimensional traveller, galactic shaman, oracle, teacher and healer.

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