Fire in the Mountain, Fire in the Heart

A few months ago, in the monthly shaman circle I attend, as we were celebrating emerging from the darkness of Winter into the budding light of Spring, we each journeyed and then, like travelers meeting around a campfire, we each shared our stories, in J.R.R. Tolkien epic style. Looking back in my Journey Journal, I realized I hadn't had enough time to write my saga down and so thought I would share it here -- at least what I can remember of it.

The interesting thing to me is that this journey incorporated many elements from the personal mythology that I've been creating for myself over many, many years. And so this is how I remember telling it...

I awoke, not upon the Earth where I had lain down but on the feathered back of a great bird whose wings stretched out, seemingly without end, to either side of me. As my brain quickly came to its full senses I knew the bird that carried me to be a pelican -- my guide of the crossroads. Above the clouds we flew until a mountain loomed before us, and before I even had time to cry out in alarm, my host, narrowly missing the lip of what I took to be a volcano, zipped up and without pause dove over the edge of the crater. Only where there should have been a crater, there was an immense tree with multi-colored faery lights dancing amongst her great spreading branches. Down, down along the massive trunk we dove to the very heart of the mountain, my feathery steed shrinking until reaching the bottom of the tree and her normal size. Relieved, I stood on solid ground again and looking around realized this was no volcano, but a mountain of pure ice.

Transfixed by the size of the tree growing from the mountain's middle, and the dazzling lights weaving through her branches, it only occurred to me later that the base of the tree was actually enveloped in flame. "Wait!" I cried to the pelican, casually preening its feathers, "Isn't it dangerous to have a fire in the middle of an ice mountain?! The whole thing could melt and collapse on top of us!"

"Fear not," laughed the pelican, "It is the awakening flame that has allowed space in this mountain," then reaching out a wing and touching my chest, "in this heart, for the tree to grow. This mountain is the result of layers of frozen emotions built up over the years as a protection for your heart, and now that the flame has arisen once more, it is the run-off of the mountain that feeds this tree, as its protection is no longer necessary."

Curiously I examined the fire more closely, observing that it burned without consuming the tree. "There is a legend among the natives that at the heart of this mountain lives a phoenix," offered my feathered tour guide. Looking around I replied, "Where? I don't see..." "You are the phoenix," said the pelican. And with a smile and a shove she pushed me into the flames.

My alarm lasted but a moment when I realized that I too was unharmed by the fire. A strange sense overcame me and with a grin I spread my arms, my wings, and with a guttural cry of glee I flew, spiraling up around the great tree, out the top of the mountain, and laughing landed at its base.

Again my pelican companion was standing next to me, as the flames died away from my body, all that is except for those burning in my heart. As I turned and faced the mountain, despite the thickness of the ice, I could still see the flame burning deep inside, at the base of the tree.

"And so you see, the fire in the mountain is the same as the fire in your heart, and it is this that allows you to see through the walls and barriers into others' hearts as well."