Last night, I went out to the edge of the Forbidden Forest, somewhere within which the Gateway stands, and also where the Wyr-Sylvan, Grandmother Hannah, lives.
Soon, I felt her nearby.
“Come, follow me to my home.”
And so I rose and followed her deeper into the Forest for quite a ways. Actually, it was difficult to determine anything of linear dimensions – not length of space, time, walking, or being – because we seemed to be traveling through wisps of Veil, whispers of dimensions – like mist come alive on a bayou path.
“Come on in,” she said softly.
And I realized that this was her home – a living weave of vines, willows, wisteria, and other plants I have no name or knowledge of. Also, many different animal species seemed to be busy within that weave. I followed her through the ‘doorway’. Inside, thick wood vines and low branches had been directed into places to sit and set things, and even rest. She brought me a cup of tea.
“So, what brings you, Thyme?” (This is her name for me.)
“The Giants’ Gate that waits in the Faery Realm. Faer’n and I acquired a map that signifies its great importance in the Change to come. I wish to know its secrets, so to help those who choose this way.”
“It is a dangerous Gate.”
“I expected such – probably with hidden devices to deter most travelers and seekers.”
“It deters all travelers and seekers.”
“But it must be the Key.”
“It is a key, but it is not the Key.”
“Please explain.”
“It is connected to Spirit-time. No matter how clever you are, and even if you managed to solve the riddle and step through, it would not be the True place, just another Illusion.”
“So, then what must I do? What must I learn?”
“You must understand Spirit-time?”
“The Centaurs know Time. Shall I go learn from them?”
“No. The Centaurs understand Time well, but mostly because they know how to live outside it. In order for you to understand Spirit-time, you must journey into it. Into Spirit-time. Becoming attuned to it.”
“And how do I do that, Grandmother Hannah?”
“That is what I can help you do. Make yourself comfortable. Finish your tea. I have made it special to assist you in journeying to where you seek.”
“As if you knew…”
“Of course, Thyme; I’ve been waiting.”
As I felt myself dropping into trance, I could sense a much deeper pull, and allowed myself to let go. And I found myself in a much larger room of the same makings as where I had been, but more spacious and profoundly deeper, although I cannot explain that in cognitive terms. It was a Knowing.
Resting on several layers of pine boughs and other soft greenery was the Earthmother herself. Very pregnant.
She called me over.
“Hello, Roxanne. I’m glad you have come.”
“I don’t understand why I am here.”
“You wanted to know the secret of the Giants’ Gate. You wanted to help navigate a course of safety for those who would follow you.”
“Well, that’s true.”
“And you needed to understand the Spirit-time factor that is essential to using it rightly.”
“Yes.”
“What do you know of Time right now.”
“I know it is non-linear in the Wholeness, but linear followed by industrialized peoples in the Human Realm. I know that even indigenous cultures have set a time for the Change, which may or may not be accurate.”
“My due date.”
“What?”
“My due date. Look at me. Make the connection.”
“Oh. Wow. That.”
“It’s not a that, Roxanne.”
“Well, no, but, like, you’re having a baby, soon.”
“Of course. The Change. The Alchemical shift.”
“Does that mean you will die giving birth?”
“It means it will occur like the Phoenix. It’s not really death, but a rapture. Alchemy of Spirit.”
“I don’t want you to die.”
“That is your Humanness talking, Roxanne, but you know the Truth of this.”
“But you will go through all the pregnancy and delivery stuff?”
“The contractions, the pain, yes. For the joy of re-birth.”
“Complications.”
“You see those, do you?”
“Yes, Earthmother. From the toxins and stresses – from the terror and war – from the harmful choices unfolding in conjunction with your labor.”
“That is true.”
Tears began to fill my eyes, and I felt her touch.
“Nothing can prevent the re-birth of Light.”
I stood quietly for a while. Then I asked, “How does this weave into understanding of the Spirit-time and the Giants’ Gate?”
“My heart-beat, my breathing, connect directly to Spirit-time. When you allow yourself to breathe my Breath – when you allow your pulse to be the same as my Pulse – you will be in sync with Spirit-time. And as my labor increases, and the Birth approaches, you will feel the Shifting, the increasing of Breath and Pulse – you will know… when.”
She paused, and then continued, “The Giants’ Gate is just that – a puzzle to entertain clever minds, and some have even managed to pass through. But not to where they were expecting, or perhaps exactly to where they were expecting – who knows? But that has nothing to do with this.”
“It doesn’t?” This greatly perplexed me. I knew I had navigated the Path rightly. I knew the buoy markers. But now what?
“Roxanne.” Her firm voice brought me back from the edge.
“Here is the key. Here is the Key for you as Annwyn to bring to Faery. Here is the Key for you as Roxanne to bring to Human (if you can find the Gate, there). At the precise moment of delivery (and no one ever knows that except for unnatural interference), the Gate will shimmer and open, for them who choose to pass through. The Gate is keyed by my Time, by Spirit-time, when the death-rebirth alchemy manifests. You will know when to be near the Gate. You will know how to prepare.”
“But how will the Gate know it’s me? What if some darkness tries to interfere?”
“Sing your song – nothing dark can sing the Light of your Truth purely. So sing.”
“Is there anything I can do to help you?”
“You can come sing to me, to ease what you already can perceive will be a difficult delivery.”
“I shall do this, Mother. I shall sing for you.”
“Go prepare, now. Send Hannah, who mid-wives me, down with some cool water.”
And I came back to myself, sitting in the Wyr-Sylvan’s room. "Welcome back, Spirit-Thyme."