LIGHTNING DREAMS

I was sleeping, dreaming away into the night. The thunder called me back into this world. Lightning, thunder, raindrops hitting the roof and the windows trying to find a way through to the earth below.

With each bolt of lightning I was seeing the temple of the Lightning Priestess in Machu Pichu. She was standing, a silhouette, reaching out to me through the layers of consciousness that separate our worlds. My body was vibrating to the lightning energy that sparkled in the air, electricity connecting the worlds through light and awareness, her calling and my feeling the call, wanting to go and afraid to let go.

As suddenly as she was there she was gone, my mind had stepped back in between the space of the worlds and I was a once again a body on Earth, separate and apart from the connection to the infinite worlds of the dreamers.

I visited Machu Pichu for the second time last March. My first night in the Sacred Valley of the Incas, I had dreamed of a great lightning storm moving across the horizon, moving towards me. I was not alone. There was a barn with several horses directly in front of me. As dream worlds go the separation of depth, land, structures animals was not as limited by definition or perception as this world of every day Human life. The lightning was first white, spider webbing across the sky, filling the distance with it’s eerie light. As I watched the lightning moved toward me.slowly, creeping across the landscape. Then it shifted to a soft yellow color, still spider webbing, filling the sky with light. Suddenly, I realized the lightning was coming to me, I could hear it’s voice; feel it’s watching me. The horses began to whinny and get nervous so I ran to turn them out before the storm came over us, this was not a safe place for them, I thought, for some reason though I new I was supposed to be there. The horses were my old friends, the ones I had been close to when my life had been so sad and lost. They had been my companions and in a lot of ways my guardians. They had done their calling and it was time for them to go. Opening the gates they took off, I always-loved turning out the horses and watching them run for the hills.

As they disappeared into the night the lightning cracked again filling the sky with its webs of light. This time the lightning was blue, a beautiful soft blue and it covered the sky above my head. I was suddenly afraid so I got down on the ground and curled up in a ball as the space around me was electrified by the energy of the living lightning. I could feel the rain falling over me in a blessing way and then I woke up. I was in my bed in the Sacred Urubamba Valley, the mirror of the Milky Way. This was Peru and the lightning had just welcomed me, an initiation according to my Peruano friend Jorge Luis Delgado.

On my first journey to Peru the previous February I had visited the temple of the lightning Priestess in Machu Pichu and felt embraced and welcomed in much the same way as I feel the Love of the Mother at the Basilica of Guadalupe in Mexico City. This was a bit different though this was sensual and male to female with the female having the power of the lightning running through her veins. After that journey, whenever I thought of Peru I could feel myself still sitting before the great rock face of the Lightning Priestess temple.

Here she had come to me again, reaching out through the dimensions to my little trailer at The Ranch in Tennessee. On a warm July night she had come with her light and mystery to call on me. I am returning to Peru the end of September, just 6 weeks away, and once again I’ll go to her temple and sit giving my attention and love to that place and the magical Mountains surrounding Machu Pichu.

The Peruvian Shaman say she was the most powerful witch in all of Machu Pichu, that her body was found buried standing up looking out over the Sacred City and all it’s mystery.

In a few days I’ll return home to Teotihuacan and Mexico. I’ll be back where my great awakening came through the unconditional Love of the City of The Gods and the warm hearts of the Mexican people. Living between the worlds has become my way. I can honestly say the world I was raised to be a part of was never very interesting to me so it’s only fitting that I found a separate reality to walk through. I don’t know that one is better or worse than the other, but I find one to be much more interesting than the other and both come together to offer such opportunity and Sweetness. Maybe we are, as many of the Indigenous cultures say, a bridge between the worlds. That works for me. So the next time you see a great lightning storm stop and sit with all your attention turned toward the life that’s there in the storm. You might get a glimpse of the one that lives there.