posted on Jan, 16 2015 @ 05:00 PM
Sitting on the wooden bench near our pond I feel a cool breeze caress my skin, it is dark and the others have all gone to bed hours ago. I choose to
stay late up on the night of a full moon, as it is the best time to meditate and be one with myself. I allow my breathing slow and deepen, to the
point where its barely noticeable, and yet fills me with energy. My eyes are open, and softly focused upon the surface of the water, watching the
reflection of the moonlight playing over the ripples. This is my time to relax and totally let go of the world around me, in a place of my own making
where nothing else exists.
After awhile there is rustling behind me, a feeling of warm begins slowly and then spreads all around my body like and embrace. I sense the presence
of something very large directly behind me, but I am not afraid. This is not the first time that Durgo has come to me in meditation. Durgo is a
dragon—though many do not believe they are real—I do, but never speak of him to the others. As always I look forward to our encounters, never
knowing what it is he has come to share, willing to go wherever he will take me.
I never understood how or why he chose me a his earthly friend, but am honoured to be the one he trusts. It is time now for our adventure to begin,
Durgo kneels down so that I can climb up onto his back and get settled. There is no fear of falling off as his shoulders are broad and comfortable.
Unfurling his large large wings, it takes only a few beats and we are airborne. His muscles are powerful, and yet the ride is smooth and effortless
on his part. Time has no meaning during these flights, the anticipation of what is to comes makes my heartbeat match the movement of those wings.
I can now see far below a vast open space, farmland resembling a large quilt with each field a different patch making up the colours of it's fabric.
This must be a trip back in time as the farms appear small and diverse, unlike the never ending fields of corn and wheat that are so prominent today.
It is a glimpse of a simpler time when agriculture was was a community, not a commodity. Where farmers worked together producing what was needed to
meet the needs of the locals. Their produce and livestock remained in the area, the people in those nearby towns knew the farms and trusted the
quality and integrity of what they bought. There is a strong sense of completeness in the scene below, that everything needed in life was right there
for the taking.
Durgo has begun to swing back towards our starting point, letting me know that our adventure is coming to an end. I begin to feel tired and realize
just how late it is. As we once again are beside the pond, I slip off his back and come to face him. He never speaks a word nor makes a sound, and
yet the lesson he bestows on me is always understood. I hug his large head and press my forehead to the scales between his eyes, it is our way of
communicating. I silently thank him and watch as he flies away, making a pass in front of the moon, that silhouette makes me smile as I wonder if
anyone else has ever seen it.
As I turn to walk back to the house, and my bed, I reflect upon what I have seen tonight. It is the simple things that are so important. This was a
message to return to the basics of life, getting what we need to exist, not existing to fulfill the needs of others. I will make a point visiting the
market this week a perhaps have a conversation with those who actually make my food. I am grateful to Durgo for sharing his wisdom with me during a