The Divine Grace of Epona

Part One 

Know this star is there for you to turn to for guidance and growth.  It knows of your path and purpose and can help you connect and reconnect as often as you need be.  For it is your star. 

(‘Follow Your Star’, Diana Lancaster, Pony Pondering Inspiration Cards)

 My fingers tingle.  Trust they say.  Trust.  Behind me, your might; pounding and stamping. 

Trust.  Stay.  Trust. 

I turn.  You are there.  Waiting.  Inviting.  I open the gate, walk away from you.  Turn, pause, and slowly start back to you.  Attention elsewhere, your eyes focus on the ground.  A small step sideways.  You know I am there.

I hear a voice.  “Be bold,” Jane gently directs, “Let her know you are here”.

A long, deep breath.  I try.  But you are unmoved.  Not in a scornful, uncaring way.  You are not ignoring.  You are simply waiting. “Breathe,” urges Jane. 

I look at you.  I hear your whispers. 

“I am here.”

“I am waiting for you.”

“When you are ready, honestly and completely, I will be here.” 

“I am not going to give up on you.”

Breathe.  In.  Out.  Deeply.  Loudly.  

Silently, I implore, “I am here.” 

Your eyes, sharp and alert, look out and over me.  “No.  You are not.  Not yet”. 

I know you are right.

You keep your promise.  You don’t move.  You don’t leave me.  You just wait. 

Breathe.  In.  Out.  Deeply.  Loudly.

Finally. 

You lower your head.  You look directly at me. 

And in that moment, you know I am there.  Completely, absolutely, honestly. 

“I told you when you are ready to be here, I will see you,” you say.

“I see you,” you say.  “I see you.”

I stand in front of you.  You bow, low before me.  An acknowledgment.  And mine in return.  A touch to your head carrying my gratitude.  A tear glistening in your eye.

And one final time you say, “I see you.” 

Part Two

Dance in the possibilities that trot onto your path. Trust. Believe and live in awe of the true wonder of your spirit path.

(‘Spirit Path’, Diana Lancaster, Pony Pondering Inspiration Cards)

Heavy feet sink into the earth.  Stay grounded they tell me.  The tightness around my throat, a witness to my fear.  Then a calming wind across my face.  “Look to your left,” Jane says. 

You are quietly there.  Just waiting.  “It will be okay,” I hear you say. 

I ask, “What do you need me to know?” 

“Just do it,” you say.  “Come in and try”.  “Do your best, and I will do my best too,” you say.

I walk to the centre.  You do not move.  I turn, and face your back.  Alone.  Vulnerable.  Exposed. 

Your lessons from yesterday carrying in the breeze.  Be here.  Completely.  Honestly. 

Breathe.  In.  Out.  Deeply.  Loudly. 

 “I don’t know what to do,” I whisper.

“Listen to your body,” Jane says.

A rush of hurt unexpectedly slices through my heart.  Raw and biting.  I close my eyes, willing the pain away.  Refusing to be vanquished, it intensifies.  Flashes of black shock my eyes open.  Sorrow rolls down my face.  Taunted by the relentless jeering critic.  The one who draws me into the void.

I look up.  You are still here.  You have faith.  And so I battle to stay. 

Gently, but purposefully, Jane leads me within, “Find your goddess power.”

Mahuika!  Guardian of fire!  All consuming, and all powerful.  But, also the embracer, the nurturer, and the comforter.  Glowing, she nestles in the core of my belly.  Pulsating radiating energy, but she is not unbridled.  Fearless, but awaiting her call.  She is there.  She has always been there. 

Still you stand.  Still your back is to me.  But it is in compassion you wait.  And still you say, “I am here.”  “When you are ready, I will be here.” 

I don’t want to scare you.  I don’t want to hurt you.  I flick my wrist; hesitantly, conditionally. 

“That is not your power,” you say. 

A more deliberate flick.  A light crack.  On the other side, your friends startle away.  You, you hear me.  But still you don’t move.  Another crack.  Your head turns.  “So, you are ready now,” you say. 

“Send her your energy,” Jane coaxes.  

In.  Out.  Deeply.  Loudly. 

You begin a slow walk forward.  Instinctively, my hand falls.

“Summon your power,” Jane urges. 

In.  Out.  Deeply.  Loudly. 

Invoking Mahuika, I direct pulsating waves towards you.  And you go faster.  Again, my hand falls.  Infinite but gentle, power carries with it no fear.

I push you forward.  As my energy retreats, you slow. 

In.  Out.  Deeply.  Loudly. In.  Out.  

Again, I summon the fire in my belly.  You turn.  You slow.  You hasten.  You slow.  You turn, stopping before me. 

“Thank you,” I say. 

“Walk,” Jane offers. “See if she is truly with you”. 

So I turn and walk.  And you are behind me.  

“Lead”, says Jane, “Be that leader”. 

We walk.  You block me.  I gently push you away.  We walk.  I lead.  You follow.  

The matriarch, leader, protector, organiser.  My wise teacher.

I touch you, accepting all that is your divine grace.