Dharma's Gift

Invoking the Guardians

It was a typical foggy morning on the moor.  The sound of the surf, blasting into the sheer cliff walls of limestone, made its way through the dense fog to Dharma’s cottage door.  It was the tiniest of cottages, and its thick stone walls were quickly warmed by the glowing fire in the hearth.  At least one fire was lit there every day in Brigid’s name.  On chill foggy mornings as this, Brigid’s flame made the cottage a warm and cozy cocoon.  Dharma could see glimpses of Jaime’ proudly parading about the meadow outside of her small window.  Her relationship with the giant, breathtaking Simurgh was still new.  Dharma didn’t yet have a firm grasp on just how to work with a familiar and had never expected one so magnificent to heed her call.  For now, she was comforted by Jaime’s presence and was enjoying their daily mental conversations.

But on this morning, as she sipped the fragrant French espresso and savored the rich pain au chocolat, her mental conversation was taken over by a different voice.  This voice was not the blast of love and warmth that came from her familiar, Jaime’.  No, this was a kind voice, yet it had an underlying steely and steadfast resolve.

“And so, Dharma, what do you remember about invoking the guardians?  For the past several moons, you have been asking me over and over in your mind.  Has it come to you?  What have you learned since you made your leap over the great waters and crafted a new life in a new country?”

Dharma gazed out the window and pondered this question as Jaime’ bent her massive dragon-like head to graze a bit.  Looking back in her mind’s eye, Dharma could see that she had learned much in this regard.

“It’s not what I had expected.  It’s not as if a luminescent form comes knocking at your door with a bottle of wine in their hands and says, “Hey, how’s it going?”  But if you lay a plate out for dinner, light a candle in a guardian’s name anointed with their favorite essence, and invite them in, they will join you in the conversations one has in one’s own mind, just as you are doing with me now,” replied Dharma.

“And is that all one has to take into consideration?  What you have recited to me is no more information than what is offered by the proliferation of magick books that you so often complain of as being inadequate.  What is missing?”

Dharma paused for a moment, and just as she took that one small simple moment to breath, the realization of what was missing hit her hard and fast.  It was a concept that had consumed her during the past frenzied months of traversing continents.  “It’s the veil, the veil controlled by the geldrbaryn.  When you first came to visit me the veil was so thin.  You could show me a visual of yourself and speak to me clearly in the dreamscape without hardly any symbolism.  That is how I knew clearly your identity.  You are Circe, guardian of magick and you were able to emblazon that fact clearly into my brain because the veil was so thin at that moment.”

Circe prodded, “Think Dharma, what was it that made the veil so thin that November?”

Dharma was on a roll now, the clear direct answer to every question she had posited on the subject was illuminated in a moment of divine awareness.  “It’s the energy!  Everything is energy, just like Tesla said.  It was in the natal chart–you, Tara, Minerva, Brigid, and Demeter–your asteroids were all transiting my natal Sun in the star chart that November day, and you all came through together into my dreamscape!”

Circe was pleased.  “Yes, the star chart is an energy map.  When a heavenly body is merged with a guardian’s spiritual essence and is orbiting in transit of your natal planets and significant points, we—the guardians—are able to pierce the veil more easily.  The veil is thinnest at the natal Sun.  Yet there is still more to consider.”

“Yes” Dharma beamed.  “You, Minerva, Brigid, and Demeter were all with me the day I was born.  Minerva was conjunct my sun, Brigid was conjunct my Venus, Demeter was conjunct my North Node and you were conjunct my Part of Fortune.”

“Tara was not with you on the day that you were born, was she?  Yet she facilitated the event, she was the driver of the white van in the dreamscape–she brought us through the veil.  Why was she able to do this?” queried Circe.

“It all goes back to energy,” Dharma exclaimed.  “All those years ago, a full 18 years in earth time—I practiced a daily devotion to Tara.  I lit incense in her name and chanted to her daily for at least a year solid.  It created a bond between us, didn’t it?  I thought it was a silly waste of time, but it created an energetic bridge between me and Tara.”

“Yes, but it is not offerings that brought Tara close to you. What do you think it was?”

“Respect”  boomed Dharma.  The offerings have never made sense to me.  Why would someone devoted to our well-being require offerings?  It goes against the natural order of things. But, I must say, when we make the offerings we are actively showing respect.”

“Yes,” Circe’s voice was strong and direct.  “There is NO magick without respect, for respect is the seed for all magickal work.  And that, my dear girl, is why the geldrbaryn have worked so hard to strip this world of it.   They have distorted the concept of respect to the point that the sons and daughters of man scarcely grasp its most rudimentary forms.  There are much better ways of showing respect than giving offerings and those ways are buried in your memories, Dharma.  You thought you weren’t a witch, you thought your spell to remember didn’t work.  And what do you think now Dharma?  Are you a witch, do you remember?”