The Winged Ones
This woman came to my office to address several areas in her life. She soon shared about how the ancestors gave her guidance in terms of her artwork. While I had initially divined on her behalf, I suggested that we could strengthen her connection to the spirit realms so that she could have more direct communication with the ancestors. With the help of the gemstones and some guidance, she was soon able to gain much greater clarity
During this session, we spoke about her process of absorbing the reality of the immense pain she suffered as an infant. I suggested that perhaps she could explore the past life origins of these circumstances of her birth. What lessons is she needing to learn through these experiences?The sentences in parentheses are the questions I asked while she divined.
After making preparations to enter the spirit realms, placing gemstones and burning sage, she begins...
I see these butterfly wings, fly and dragonfly wings.
There is this odd looking man, bald and white. He is dong something with these insect wings, like pulling them.
His eyes and skin are even insect-like.
(What is he doing to these insects?)
He is pulling their wings off.
Because he is bored,
(Does he do this often?)
(So there is some cruelty…)
It is bright. Like he is on a mountain top. And there is a coliseum with animals. There are lions.
She expresses concern that she has been influenced by the things I just shared about the Edgar Cayce readings but I assure her that, if anything, it is likely that I shared that information for a reason. It has relevance to her. We continue.
(Where are we? Do you live near a coliseum?)
Yes. He is a coordinator of the events. But he prefers not to be close.
It’s kind of a psychic work. You look at the people who are to be tortured. And you know the animals. And you set them up to achieve the most torture.
(You mean you know their weaknesses and match them with the animals strengths?)
Yes, exactly. She replies with emphatic agreement.
It’s a smell. The people and the animals have a kind of scent that let’s me know how to match them.
(How are the people selected?)
They are the ones who have committed an offense against the state.
(Torture and death? Their crimes must be severe?)
Murder, death, theft sedition, plotting against the state. Enemies of the state and prisoners of war.
(And where are we?)
I thought it was Greece and then Rome came to mind.
(How does his heart feel?)
He feels rather heartless. Numb. An instinct, like this rather instinctive being. He likes tearing the wings on insects because they don’t give off a scent. Something about the scent of fear makes him crazy. It is “disdain-able,” detestable.
(Is he definitely human?)
Barely. His heart is undeveloped.
(And how did he become so cold?)
Coldness. Coldness is all he has known. There was never any tenderness in his life. People think he had courage but it’s just like a disdain for showing fear.
(Tell me about his childhood?)
He was deserted as a baby. He has no connection to his parents. He was just kind of passed from person to person.
(Within the family?)
No family. He was always dirty. But he could go to the sea and wash himself off.
(Was this common in Rome for babies to be deserted and mistreated?)
He doesn’t have a heart. He doesn’t know how to use a human heart. He was never taught how to use it, how to love.
To de-wing the winged creatures was his pleasure.
(Because he was de-winged?)
Ah, yes. There seems to be a sense of relief at being understood.
(That resonates with him?)
Yes…. He died. He just flung himself down a mountain.
(How old was he?)
(How long did they live there back then?)
Fifty was pretty old age.
(And what is the lesson here? It almost seems that he suffered for his cruelty within that lifetime? Why must you continue to suffer, born into such painful circumstances?)
There are these lessons of the human heart that I needed to learn. Compassion, true courage, not disdain, deep compassion and empathy that I learned from each of my family members. Just watching them, my mother and father. Deep compassion.
And I’ve always had a sense of myself as a winged one. But I was always feeling that my wings were snatched. They were there but they’ve always been just an outline of wings. And each time I climb to a certain place my wings are snatched.
(And you have been getting many messages about the need for compassion for yourself- here I refer to our past work.)
Ah, yes. I can learn compassion for others but it is hardest for myself.
I inquire as to what she can do to better absorb this lesson and continue to heal.
If I really want to do something with a lasting benefit, I can experience compassion for him in that life, and flood his heart with human feeling.
I facilitate this process by emphasizing how he has suffered, from being abandoned as a child to being passed from caretaker to caretaker, neglected and dirty. And how he ultimately took is own life. I instruct her to send love and compassion to his heart. After a period of leaving her to explore this healing, I inquire about her experience.
The winged ones are back. Butterflies and other insects, and birds.
She explains that small birds also fell prey to his acts.
They have all come back with their wings restored.
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