The Dragon of Soul

My delving into Chocolates always has a deleterious effect on me. You see, I'm allergic to them... I know I didn't say anything before, but well, maybe I'm still in denial. In any case, I wanted to partake of these Special Chocolates since I'm facing my fears now. Maybe by some fantastic miracle, these lovelies would not have the usual effect... and my little hoping/wishing thoughts were right! They didn't! So here I am, having nibbled and digested to my heart's delight - on the whole box, mind you. I know, I rarely do anything half-way.

Inspiration filled me and I started writing. My biggest fear is that I can't write fiction. Non-fiction is easy for me. So for two days, I let a little idea form itself around the box. I don't want to think inside the box, as that has always caused me immeasurable anxiety in the past. No, this time, I'm thinking outside of the box. And here is my first Fiction offering, as response to several chocolate binges from the Lemurian Abbey's Special Box.

Breaking open a prison block
ShellMist

The Dragon of Soul

First there was the Dragon, sleeping near the boulder. Then, as I approached, I noticed something else near the rock face that drew my attention. There were paintings on the rock itself.

All over the base of the mountain, someone had gone from left to right with white and red chalk, placing the etchings of dancing people, tree shapes and geometrical forms, lifting and balancing their forms all over the surface! It was very beautiful to behold, but I still had the dragon to contend with.

Peacefully she slept, the sunlight reflecting daintily on her iridescent scales, sending glittery shards upwards as her large reptilian body rose and fell in the simple act of breathing. I was reluctant to disturb her, lest she misconstrue my arrival as a threat. And why should she not? I was the stranger here.

I had arrived from my village via the Shaman’s portal, whilst performing a Soul Retrieval Ceremony. Together, we had spent many days getting ready for this, my client, her support partner and myself. We had cleared away many obstacles that impeded her state of mind, reaching deep into her psyche for the adversarial beliefs and stagnant thoughts that held her back from a fulfilling life. We went through several healing ceremonies before this one, all of them merely the necessary preparations for the main event. But nothing in what we had discussed, clarified and shared, could prepare me for this. A sleeping dragon! Does she know I am here? Maybe she does not even care. A question, then: do Dragons dream?

Gingerly, cautiously, I tiptoe around her and, all my senses keenly aware of her sleeping form, I stand in front of the rock wall to get a closer look at the painted figures. Though this Dragon is an important element here in Soul World, my gut feelings are telling me that the “writing on the wall” is even more so. For the healing of my client, I have come here and I must investigate any and all clues, signs and symbols that I find here.

Nature representations abound amid dancing figures of almost-stick-like people. Flowers woven into wreaths, staffs carved from tree roots and branches sprouting shoots, sky clouds, sun and moon, and trees… Everywhere there are trees. The stick people seem to be celebrating something relating to Nature… the seasons, perhaps? They stand with wands outstretched to the sky; they form circles under the full moon… Back and forth my gaze follows the compositions on the wall, as my mind tries to make some sense of it. This must relate to the young woman waiting for me back in our world, but how?

Deep down, I know this is not a matter for a logical study. Rather, I need to let the creative and intuitive brain cells do their fancy connecting work. For that, instinctively, I step back to try to see the big picture and then… oops! To my dismay, I realise I’ve stepped on the Dragon!

To be continued...