Sunday, 21 April 2013

Myths of our Solar System (26): Celtic Afterlife 1

In my first experience I was a warrior. Married with children but cut short in my prime.
Quite literally. That is where my journey began. That was my first experience.

Then I spent time as a mouse, scurrying quickly around a village grabbing scraps where
I could and when I could, having watched and waited before furtively edging forward until
letting loose that burst of energy to capture my quarry. That was my experience until the
cat got me.

For a time I lived as a bear, an animal I’d never see in my life but only heard about. I
roamed the hillsides of the north, captured smaller animals and fish- it was almost like
I was human again, except that I was much more free. I was entirely my own and my
family’s. And I was able to sleep through the winter.

Then I went all tropical. A parakeet- oh, to always be a bird, what an experience!: I
thought I’d been free as a bear but… flying from tree to tree, gliding above and looking
down… such a different experience yet it wasn’t enough, I longed for more and soon
became an eagle, far above, nesting on a mountain top- amazing; so much so it tired
me out and through the rest of the Roman Era I became a tree and contemplated my
experiences thus far as an oak. My body had formerly been inhabited many times and,
from the imprints of those souls, I learned about other experiences in other places.

When the Normans came I saw a rabbit and longed to return to that manic activity and I
moved on, joining a large family again and I lived snug underground in a life constantly
endangered by predators but one that also involved many relaxing afternoons lying around
in meadows.

Then I continued underground and on the ground in forms I had not yet taken, not even
thought about. A worm, a woodlouse, a ladybird. Then flowers and plants, fish in rivers
and the sea. A whale, oh what a magnificent beast, it’s heart alone larger than most forms
I had previously taken. And always moving, always singing in my most vast playground
since I had been an eagle.

After centuries away I began to pine again for Britain, returning as a grey squirrel, once
more scampering about as a small creature; and having much (practical) fun finding and
hiding food, always being careful to pat the earth down firmly and to remember where
everything was. I also helped drive the red squirrels further from their homes, deep down
feeling shame but having to bend to the will of the animal whose form I was experiencing.
Then I took to the skies (as well as parks and open paved spaces) as a pigeon, exploring
London and gaining food from humans as I had in my first animal experience as a mouse.

And, finally, nearing the end of my experiences, I find myself relaxing once more as a tree.
This time in Highgate Woods, away from the footpaths. I stand in old age, the breeze
rustling through my many arms, the sun warming my upper most parts, my roots deep
in the ground and drinking. I’m not visited much. Just occasionally dogs come sniffing,
children run by frantically or lovers will use me as a post and remind me of the happier
times throughout the experiences my soul has had during it’s wanderings.

And I think of my first love, my first family and my first regret. If only I had not been a
warrior and gained a more peaceful life, that I had known my Iseult a lot longer.

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