Astral plane - A World Uncharted




Well, I’ll just jump right in. To me, the Astral plane is a world uncharted. It enchants me like a Viking on a voyage discovering the unknown. As a child, my life was not like most. Sure, I rode a banana seat bike miles from home to exchange a few pence for a bit of candy. That was if I was not 100 miles away from civilization in the mountains of the Pacific North West. I drank water from dew-drenched leaves, ate berries, mushrooms, and other wild plants while roaming the forests, rivers, and creeks wild. At times it was just the spirits of the forest and my other times I watched over my little sister while my mother mined the river for Gold. As a 40-year-old adult, I find it difficult to impossible wading through the Social Stimuli of our plane of existence. I became aware of magick when I became aware my spiritual path is not a concrete sidewalk. Still, I could not cast. My mind was entangled in the trauma of mistreatment from others. Determined I went into my own head, searching the memories that plagued me. I can go forward and I can go backward in my memories. As I do this I relive the trauma, eyes wide open, looking for joy. Good and bad = balance, Life, and death = balance, trauma becomes the only memory thus creating unbalance. When I can find the joy in a trauma (ie: running from my kidnappers' prison, tears of joy streaming down my cheek) my mind is once again balanced. I yearned to journey the Astral Plane the first time I opened a compass and saw two animal spirits wander in. This uncharted “wild” place. So similar in my mind to the place I once roamed as a child. Some baneful beings some gentle. Even so, much like the Astral Plane, when you tread through the forest with respect the forest respects you. I recently had the privilege of indulging in a delicate, baneful truffle. Shortly after devouring my delicious chocolate, I lay in my sleeping place. I found myself looking at my husband's face. He had such a deep expression of love. Curiously I followed his gaze wanting to see what he was looking at with such passion. Then I found myself looking at myself, asleep in my sleeping place. Looking at oneself in such a manner for the first time is a little eerie. I could not stop looking at myself lying there asleep. That is what I remember last. I woke this morning from a peaceful non-pharmaceutically forced sleep feeling refreshed accomplished and happy. I am forever grateful to Egyptian Henbane. She opened a door to a place I once again feel free in. Chelsea Lynn Kohler