Swynnaigh and Kiaralogh
As I was going through chemo, I had two dreams in which an extraordinary woman appeared. She was stunning: very tall, blonde hair wrapped around her head in one long braid. The energy of physical power she emanated was palpable.
Imagine a woman with elegant rippling muscles who carries herself as a queen, and you begin to see her.I felt a deep connection and never forgot her, as her presence has stayed with me since then. All I could remember of the name she told me she called herself was that it began with an ‘S’.
In 2014 I began to study with the Edgar Cayce Institute, or A.R.E.. I started the process of soul channeling, or what the Institute term “Soul Writing”. It is a more conscious process than Automatic Writing, as Edgar Cayce counseled that one opens oneself to unknown forces in that process. Here, a sacred space is created. The following is a result of one such session.
The word “loch” is very clear and I am aware of a high and wild place. I feel an intense spinning sensation, and voices being carried from afar. A clear and low voice says “Swynnuh” in my right ear, and I see how it is spelled: Swynnaigh. I now see where I am. It is Scotland, or maybe Ireland. but this one is up and away and just out of reach from now. This is so very long ago, and I do not get a date. I feel this was a time when humanity had no need for time, or calendars. All that was needed was the sun, the weather and the turn of the seasons to know where they stood, breathed, and played their soulʼs Game.
The land is somehow different than it is now. I know this but am not sure why, so I strive to really see and feel my environment. I see what look like tropical trees, the kind that grow in warmer climes than what we know of present-day Scotland. Their branches are heavy with citrus fruit that is a wonderful orange/magenta shade. I can smell the sea and there is the taste of salt in the slight wind. I feel hair blowing across my face, and I realize it is mine!
I am a nine year old girl, and I am laughing and shouting. I see another child with me, and this is my best friend. He is about a year older than I, and although he looks quite human, he is not. Some would refer to him as “imaginaryʼ, but I see that he is very real. We are playing our favorite game of “Disappear”. My friend is of the race of The Fae. In my focused personality lifetime of now Iʼve always known about them. They are hardly here at all anymore for all kinds of reasons — mostly consisting of our stupidity and lack of grace.
Even at nine I am in love with this Shining boy.
His skin glows a deep luminescent blue, as does mine. I also had the Great Gift. Some of the Mothers and Aunts whisper that I am part Fae, given how I had glowed like a beacon in the dark ever since I came out of my Dear Mother. There is never a thought of mischief! She is a good, good, wife to dear Father, and their love is strong and true, and it flows in currents for those lucky enough to be in their auras. No, this girl that I am knows that The Fae and humanity are from the same place. . . once upon a time. This explains the glowing blue skin, along with a dwindling number in the clan.
I canʼt hear his name, but he calls me “Swynnaigh” (it sounds like Swinn-ach). . . and then itʼs “Winnie”, which is his nickname for me.
The Grand Elders
Our folk live on the hills, and his live in the hills. This particular day that I see is during the time when we all come together for sacred ceremony: The Sharing of The Wonder of The Breathe (pronounced breath). It is spread over twelve days, and includes the Holy-Time I love most — the Great Tellings Day. This is the pinnacle moment at High Summer. All gather to listen to The Grand Elders tell the stories of their great and wondrous lives. Humans and The Fae remember our past lives vividly, but people have now forgotten so much.
The scene instantly shifts. The boy and the girl are about 6 or seven years older, and they stand together with garlands of flowers being tied around them as they are prepared to express the Wedding Oaths. This is a big, big place weʼre in. I see/feel myself looking up, and then I see the windows high up, with the shafts of light coming down. They have been formed to point into a pool of water when the sun is at midday, and the me who looks at this peers for a closer image. The basin is made of stone in an exquisite spiraling mosaic. It is so beautifully made — and you can just see the Divinity in the beauty of the water and there is the unmistakable fragrance of roses.
My family and my Loveʼs family are with us in this wonderful place. This is no church, because there were not yet any priests! We had heard about priests and priestesses of the lands in the East, from the Tellings of the Elders, but here there were none. In some of the Tellings, they said that our ancestors had come from there in ships , riding high above the waters and landing on our home as we knew it. Weʼd known it for a very, very long time.
Of Union, Truth and Spirit
Our families stand with us in this place with the high ceilings and the domed roof letting in the shafts of sunlight. All begin to chant in a very harmonic call and response. The leader of the chant is an older woman, my Grandmother. She stands strong and straight. Her white hair is plaited into several braids that are wrapped around her head like a natural royal crown.
I see her daughter, my mother, come towards me as the chant continues. The chant is now very soft. Her Mother Love smile fills my heart, and she lifts up my long dark blond hair and begins to braid it just like her own, and the Grandmotherʼs. This is how I will show myself from now on — when not with my husband.
There are soft good- natured chuckles, and giggles from my smaller sisters.The chant rises up in pitch reaching a harmony that feels to me as if it is directed toward the top of the domed ceiling.
A feeling flows out from the ceiling and all around us. A blessing is real, it is created, and you feel it as honey silver/golden Light particles. They get on your skin, and in your hair, and you feel the blessing inside as it tickles, sweetens and heats up your heart.
His folk are there too, in testament and in celebration. My wedding to this magnificent young son of the Fae Laird is a coming together of two Great Clans in hopes of a future that would show us all more of the Sweet Mystery of The Divine Play.