I had a journey with the spirit of the ground. The ground, of course, wraps the whole earth, but it is not the Earth. It is the layer where life is most abundant. The spirit of the ground showed me its full extent – wrapping the circumference of the Earth: ‘the Earth is a cycle. A circle. Join me!’
I then looked to myself, and realised that I was something of a pillar of pain and form. The spirit’s call was a frequency sending shock waves through the pillar. The pillar turned from stone to water: I melted into the ground – like Amelie.
I could then sense myself joining up with everything that has life. The worms, beetles, roots. Everything walking or resting on the ground; even the sea creatures resting in the sea resting on the ground.
Overwhelmed by the compassion I felt, my pain being carried like this, I did not need to carry a single burden. It was not a sharing of my load – it was complete removal of it. The compassion caused me to weep. There, still me, but weeping into the ground.
‘Tell me’, my brain began to stir, ‘What happens to my pain when it goes?’ such questions our minds want to know. Preoccupation with the details; overthinking our way into madness, missing the light of life.
But the grounding was powerful enough to hold me as I thought this and graced an answer: ‘The pain turns into water, and travels deep down. Then it feeds the living things bringing sustenance to life.’
Towards the end of the journey, it started to rain. It was raining on me and I felt it as though I am the ground spirit. Falling on my horizontal body. Beautiful, relentless, urgent.
Each drop was a small hand plucking out the pain. There I was – still me, but in the ground, with my pain being plucked out by thousands of meticulous hands.
Not until all the pain had been swiftly and meticulously plucked out did I experience the rain as a soothing blessing.
This happened in a dimension beyond words, and the words came later. since then, I have been able to join with brother ground spirit on a regular basis.
Brother ground spirit now reminds me, sometimes daily, that if I surrender my burdens to him, then there is less for us both to carry.