"Grandmothers," I said, "we are about to turn to the New Year, but my question is about more than that. All of us are longing and waiting for the golden age to come but we don't see much gold here on earth, Grandmothers. In fact, at this time things seem more frightful and frightening than ever. We have been waiting all our lifetime, but especially for the last fifteen years, for the turn to the light, but that hope sometimes seems very far away. There are so many tragedies and so much ugliness on our planet today. Grandmothers," I finally said, "in spite of all this, I want to know the truth. What should we be prepared for as we move into 2008? What is coming?"
No sooner did I ask the question than I felt myself preparing to fly. There was a whooshing sound as my chest and wings expanded, readying themselves to open and lift. "It's coming," the Grandmothers said, "the golden age is coming sooner than you think. The turn is happening now!" they said and immediately I burst into tears, too choked up to to respond. "I've wanted this so much," I finally sobbed as I turned to them, and the Grandmothers answered by wrapping their wings round me.
"When you fly as you are flying now, you look straight ahead," they said. I hadn't realized that I had taken off, but I was air-born and they were right. I was looking straight ahead. "You are moving forward," they said, "you're not looking back. In fact you seldom even glance down. The impetus of flight carries you forward. Forward," they repeated. And high in the clear, clear air where colors are piercingly true I repeated to myself, "Forward."
"You are going where you have not gone before," the Grandmothers said. "We cannot describe what this is like to you," they chuckled, "because there is nothing to compare it with." They shook their heads at the human tendency to seek to explain that which cannot be explained and said, "Feel the sensation in your chest and body as you move forward. As you fly forward," they corrected themselves. "Moving," they said, "is not the word to describe this. It does not have enough speed or power. You are racing forward," they said and nodded happily, pleased that they had found the correct word.
"Enjoy the ride," they said; "don't be turning back to hang onto things. Everything is new now," the Grandmothers said, "it's new. In the past you have worried about what people thought of you-worried if you were accepted or if you fit in. Worried whether or not you had your place in the world," they said. " All of that is going now," the Grandmothers said, "and the world is not and will not be the same as it was before. The places you may have had or wanted to have in the past are now going and gone. You are on your way to somewhere else," they said, smiling at the bewildered look on my face.
"Enjoy the flight," they said, still smiling . "Enjoy the process, the moment, the now!
"History," they interjected, "whether personal or cultural, is nothing but stories. Stories," they repeated, "that is all. But you are here now," they said and then cried, "Come with us. Come forward now." The Grandmothers beckoned to me and as they did, I became aware of the speed at which I was moving through the rarefied air. The sky was a brilliant blue, and as I felt it shimmer around me, I became aware that history, literature and the old stories I had loved were just stories. Some had truth in them and some didn't. They were old, formulated by humans, and compared to what I was experiencing now with the Grandmothers; they were rather dark. As I took a good look at these tales and histories, I saw many attachments hanging on them. Certain cultures were attached to certain stories, and each story was overlapped and impacted by reciprocal stories. Together they sat before me in a heap, folded one upon another-- wadded up and dark.
"The movement is forward, it's now!" I said, thrilled by my discovery. "It's in the joy of becoming, the joy of exploring something new," I said and exhaled a big "Ahhh! Even asking the question, "What does the future hold?" I said, "is thinking in the old way. Implicit in that question is an attachment to what life used to be. There's fear there too," I said. "We worry, "Am I going to lose that?" and "What is this going to be like?" We're trying to compare the unknown to something in the past."
I broke into laugher at this point and said, "So the question I asked you, Grandmothers, about what we could expect, can't be answered because now we're going where we've never gone before. "Yes,"the Grandmothers laughed and opened their wings/arms to me. Then "Yes, Grandmothers, yes!" I cried. "This is what I want. No looking back now. I want to fly forward."