Messenger from the Void

Raven watches me out of his sideways eye, which is black and ringed with gold like a wedding band around the abyss. Today he is Odin’s bird. I plunge into the Void through his dark vision.

There the blue ice ghosts of warriors swarm until I come among them, and then they draw aside to let me go further and alone. No light comes from anywhere. I have no sense of direction other than “on”. “Back” may be the same as “on” for all I know; the doorway seems to have vanished. I can see nothing, in any direction, except blackness. This is strangely restful.

I go “on” until I stop. Then I simply hang in space. No light, no sound – I think of Odin hanging on his tree -- nine days and nine nights until the Universe explodes. I float as though submerged in water. I am neither hot nor cold.

Suddenly light blossoms, gas-flame blue light which appears to be at some distance and which defines a horizon. It rises and cascades, eerie and silent like the Northern Lights. I watch, admiring the beauty. The light never changes color, but it ebbs and flows, dancing like flame.

I watch for a very long time. "I don't understand," I think, "what this has to say to me." Perhaps it has nothing to say to me. Perhaps I am nothing.

Slowly it dawns on me that this is no place for a human being. It is beautiful and restful but empty of human scale and connection. In a moment of extreme panic I realize I do not know the way out. I turn this way and that, but the same view greets me on every side. The icy horizon surrounds me. I try “swimming”, flailing my arms and legs to move through the void. Nothing seems to change. I can’t move that way. Or moving makes no difference, doesn’t get me anywhere.

It occurs I ought to will myself elsewhere. I open my eyes. Now I am out of the realm of imagination and back in the everyday world. But I realize my soul is still in the limbo of the Abyss. My grief seems to have been leached away, but I feel hollow and empty, not healthy. I walk about in the house, but can’t set my mind to any task. I am listless and restless. Everything seems pointless. My creativity has been Voided, as has my energy. I long for my tears.

I decide to call out to the energies of Psyche and beg them to release me. I return to the dark and empty place of my imagination. The Northern Light display has disappeared, and I am again in total darkness.

Hanging there, I reach out. “Raven,” I call first. There is no answer. Nothing changes. I call then for the Mother. Still there is no change. I plead with Coyote, with the Little People, with Baba Yaga the Great Witch. In all cases, nothing changes. These are not the gods of this place. They cannot set me free.

Finally I reach in a direction I haven't tried for a very long time. "Father," I whisper. Sorrow hits me like a silent tidal wave. It spews me out of soundless emptiness and into my studio. I take a breath. Sure enough, I am present once again to myself here and now. Reproachfully I look at the window ledge where Raven has been sitting while he watches me. He is gone. I remain very, very sad.