I should have posted this a while ago but for the reasons listed in the previous post, that wasn’t possible.
Those who have been following for a while are already aware that I’ve spent most of this last year paying particular attention to the influences of the Reaper in my life. Walking with the Reaper has been an invaluable experience and not something I would ever, ever take back. The close walk is over.
There will be details left out. Please for the love of whatever don’t think that this is everything that went on.
I can not say exactly when I first crossed paths with the Reaper. I recall a presence on the edge of my awareness ever since childhood that I have come to associate with the Reaper- an eerie and profound combination of sadness, depth, gentleness and utter immovability. No entity has stirred my soul to melancholy, poetry, or brutal practicality with quite the same power or finesse. The Reaper has been and will continue to be, at least in my own heart, my Lord of Autumn.
Toward the end of the walk, which began last August, I began to have a series of dreams. In each dream, while the symbolism changed, the meaning was the same. I was being asked to make a choice. I think, that if I had taken one set of symbols I might already be dead and safe in the Reaper’s hands. But I didn’t.
Each dream and dream fragment began the same way. I died. The method varied and some were more painful, more ignoble, more heroic, more unremarkable than others. Each time when I woke I stood before three figures. One to my left stood swathed in robes of black that seemed to defy any breath of air or glimmer of light. It was as if a piece of the abyss had broken free and chosen to walk abroad. To my right stood another figure, sometimes hard to see clearly but always beautiful. Everything he said had a tinge of laughter in the words. Sometimes the laughter was bitter, sometimes soft, sometimes open and full of joy. The third figure stood behind me and I knew him by his voice: deep and rough and made of steel. I heard my Lord Father’s voice say “Choose.”
It is not a choice I wanted to make. Being essentially a spoiled spirit, used to not having to work but so hard for the talents that come to me, I did not want to pick a side. But I am Lord Father’s child.
One spoke to me then, in a voice woven out of silence and mist. “You see Me truly and for that alone I could love you. But you are you, and for that alone I do love you. You will come to me in time as all must. What you have learned is yours. You can come with me now if that is your choice. Come and dance with me, but rescind your place in this realm.”
And I wished to follow that one into the cool quiet, into the depths.
One spoke to me then in a voice like smoke with heat and laughter behind every word. “There is nothing I can give you, dragon, to compare to the peace and rest the other offers. I see you, and I tell you that you are needed here and now. I will be with you, by your side, in your heart and mind. I will push you, re make you, challenge, break, and re forge you. I will teach you to fight, to flow, and to be you wherever you are. It will hurt. Come dance with me, here and now, for beauty and for pain.”
And I was afraid to follow that one into the fire, but he had said something that I had to follow. It is the one thing that makes me the most me. It is the one thing that makes me, more than any other trait, Lord Father’s child.
“Father,” I asked “Am I needed here, now? Is there no one else who can do this job?”
“There are others.” He answered me “But there are none who can do it as well.”
That has always been the one question that would change my mind. Always. And they both knew it.
So I reached across the intervening distance…
And grasped the Trickster’s hand.