Gate: Seven of Wands

I passed through the vision gate and found myself in a world shrouded in the color pink. The garden walls and ground were pink as was the sky. In some ways, I felt as if I had entered a gigantic womb. As I came to this realization, I was pulled forward suddenly and the walls rushed past in a blur like I had entered a wind tunnel.

I was propelled through this pink tunnel until I exploded outwards into a void of space that contained neither light nor shadow. I floated in this void for a time, experiencing a feeling of being and nothing else, until I perceived something large rising from the depths below. Curiosity reentered my spirit at this being’s approach and I moved towards the rising enigma upon the horizon.

It took some travel to get close enough to see the emerging spirit taking the form of a giant centipede. After a view heartbeats more, I realized it was my friend, Time, coming out of the nothingness of the void to fetch me back to the worlds I knew. He reared back until his head floated in front of me and I could see his energy gleaming from his dark, oblong eyes. “It is time, Heidi,” he said. “You have dwelt in this formative space for your appointed time and may now return to those who remember and love you.”

“I thought I would feel lost out here, Time,” I said as I climbed upon the giant centipede. “Instead, my experience in the formless void was one of simple existence and nothing else. I think I may actually miss this solitude in time as much as I missed those I loved during my time away. Thank you, my friend, for bringing me home.”

Faster than light, Time rushed through the void and swept me back into the pink world and the comforting womb-like feeling it engendered within me. The centipede moved so quickly that reality blurred and once again we moved through a long tunnel towards a new space. Suddenly, Time stopped so abruptly that I was thrown from atop his head onto the ground. Then, giving me a jaunty wave with one of his forelegs, he vanished.

“Hello!” I called into the lighted mists that began to gather around me, concealing the pink garden from my sight. “Is anyone there? I have only newly arrived and am seeking my friends and ancient companions. Are you a friend?”

“We are both friends and the most ancient of companions,” came a gentle, whispered answer from the mist. Tendrils of pastel pink vines grew from the ground and surrounded me, softly moving against my skin and each other. They wrapped about my legs and torso until I was so swathed in the growth from the garden that my physical form was difficult to separate from the plants.

“Who are you?” I asked, pushing the vines from my eyes so that I could see. “I’m Heidi and Time brought me to your doorstep.”

“We are the Garden of the Mother. You have met us before long ago,” sighed the vines. “Welcome back to the worlds of form, Formless One.”

“All spirits are formless until they are given shape by the Creator of All,” I said. “Is the Divine Mother here? I missed her peaceful presence in the void.”

“She is everywhere,” whispered the vines in unison. “She is even within the void. There was no need to long for her presence when she was with you the entire time.”

“I suppose that must be true, otherwise how would I have been able to return to this form from the void,” I said, meditatively. “Garden vines, will you take me where I need to go in this world?”

“We will take you, we will take you, we will, we will, we will,” whispered the vines as they picked me up and carried me through the surrounding mists. The garden proceeded at a much slower pace than the centipede, but even so, in mere moments, they set me down gently next to an enormous rose that pulsed in the midst of the garden hedges.

“Behold, the Heart of the Mother’s Garden,” they said. “This is a sacred place for all mothers and those who give shape to forms of all types.”

“This Mother’s Heart is beautiful,” I murmured, admiring the shining petals of energy and prismatic red light. The mammoth rose floated above a thorned vine, pulsing from within with a glowing light. “It has thorns,” I said. “I didn’t expect it to have thorns.”