When it's misty here, the sloping paddock opposite the cottage takes on a magical air. The stream running along the bottom means a thick mist there that rolls along like a fallen cloud running to play in the adjoining woods. A few weeks ago, the day I wrote this post, it was one of those early mornings. The mist was thick - from the far side of the paddock our cottage is about 300 feet away and I couldn't see it, couldn't even see the other side of the field - so I let the dogs off their leads and watched the cloud as they ran off to explore.
This day it wasn't heading for woods, along the stream, hugging the trees. This day it was rolling up the slope towards me, at quite a speed. I wondered what would happen if I walked into it, because I felt as if hands were pushing me to do just that. Would the density of the water droplets mean that it was only visible from a distance? Would it disappear up close? I took a few steps forward and met it halfway. Still visible. Still dense.
I stood, wrapped in cloud, and listening seemed to be the only thing to do. Nothing. But I didn't feel alone. I could feel 'something' there with me.
What are you? Who are you?
Are you the Spirit of this place? The Spirit of water?
We are before spirit.
What does that mean?
It means we are before spirit.
Who is 'we'?
Are you 'good' or 'bad'?
We are neither and both. We are maybe. We may be.
Not helping. I have to say, I feel very uncomfortable. I feel as if you are bad.
We are not.
Well then are you good? Are you, like, Source? So, sort of, like, 'Love'? Because this doesn't feel good.
We are not. We are before those things.
I don't understand.
We are everything and we are nothing. We are everything before it becomes anything.
Like building blocks?
Perhaps. We are unchosen intention. We are potential decisions. We are anything.
Why are you talking to me?
We aren't. You are hearing us.
This is beginning to piss me off.
Okay. So. How do you work? Does Spirit use you? Can we access you?
Everything uses us, often without knowing. Every choice moves us into form; both the chosen thing and the unchosen thing become 'real'. And if nothing actively chooses a form for us, we move with the flow. You can access us always. With us you can create anything. Listen...anything. What is your biggest, most beautiful dream? Because with our help there is no reason you cannot make it happen. Just tell us what it is. But be aware, the place where you do not make it happen becomes real too. You must choose to follow the path to creation.
I still don't really get what or who you are? Humour me, give me a name I can relate to...talk to. Please?
If you need a name you can call us numen. We are made of potential, of possibility, of infinite combination. And we are always here and everywhere.
This is when Digby came bounding up for a biscuit and this bizarre conversation ended. I wondered what the heck a numen is. I knew the word numinous but didn't really know its root. To be honest it was conjuring up images of Gru's Minions so I got home and Googled it.
Well, well, well.
Seriously. I didn't know the word. And I definitely heard the singular, not plural, version. Something tells me they would say they are one and many.
Naturally, since then the conversation has been on a loop in my head. I've been loathe to write about it because looneytunes. But it's not going away and every word is true. This last week I've had reason to think about my biggest, most beautiful dream and believe that I can follow the path to its creation. But that's a whole nother post.
In the meantime, keep an ear open for the numen. You'll know it/them by the yellow skin and the dungarees.