A symbolic encounter, experienced with *Cleo, reflected the processes held deeply within the pysche. During an Astrological reading, Heaven came to Earth, held within a profound transpersonal message.
Traditional in her ageless Irish looks. Blue pearls for eyes. Beautifully freckled. Another survivor. Abused as a child and then beated by her partner. She would often drink for relief. An escape, from the headaches and wounds that reflected in her mind. Now in chronic pain her remedy is now found in another bottle. Sleeping tablets which ensures a rest of dreams.
It was a beautiful summers day as we sat exploring the ever moving complexities that surface during an Astrological reading. Cleo was born in the sign of the goat, Capricorn, a much needed quality as mountains can be unforgiving and at times impassable. A current Pluto transit became the trigger for long forgotten repressed memories.
We were seated as we spoke in the grounds of a medieval castle, where King Henry VIII once gaily walked ... I became aware of a young girl aged around 19, with a plastic shopping bag. Her grey track suit and soft shoes seemed somehow dulled by the shifting movements, flowing in anticipation with an unsurety. Carefully observing her every moment, I noticed a darkness in her aura and empathed what was on her mind. She was unaware of our presence as she paced to the edge of the castle wall, back and forth, back and forth. My client and I also became lost in the symbolic Astrological history of her abusive past. Cleos now mirrored the young lady in grey, who was now seated crossed legged in the meditation of fate.
I walked over and gave her a feather. The silence between us echoed a song, that I trusted to reach a place unseen. This feather, I wished, would symbolically allow her to float gently to the ground, as the lease of fate beckoned her call.
The session with Cleo came to a close. Our goodbyes were said and I quickly returned to find the young lady in grey, who was now seated on a bench, far from the wall inside a secluded woody area, alone. "Hi" I murmured as I walked past, aiming not to startle. She turned and merged out of a trance, with a soft whisper. "Hello".
I choose not to sit with her during this private moment. I respected her process and the decision of life.
The ancient wooden bridge soaked my fatigue. As each step processed the days events, I noticed the lady in grey walk out of the castle grounds, holding the feather.
I think of her often, trying to project and see into her life, wondering if she knew the feather was a sign of Love, to heal the pain within her heart.
Painting. The marriage of Hera and Zeus. Pompeian Art.
*name altered, permission granted.
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