Red Clay Meditation

The rising sun came streaming in through the partially drawn curtains, as I slowly opened my eyes to greet the dawn of a new day. Today was the first day of my retreat in the City of Ladies and I couldn’t wait to get started on the initiation rites that were forming a major part of this spiritual experience. As I lay back, sinking deeply into the plumpness of the goose feather bed and pillows, wondering what lay ahead, there came a gentle knock upon the door. Sitting upright I called out to whoever it was to come in. A beautiful Lady appeared in the doorway. She was tall, with long hair all down her back, and she wore a flowing white gown. Around her neck she wore a set of crystals and beads, and in her hand she carried a small bowl. Walking over to the edge of the bed she smiled graciously and told me that the time to begin had come. She directed me to arise and wrapped a simple pale blue gown around me. Then she took me by the hand and led me into another room, through a doorway that had not been evident the previous evening. The room was dark and empty, apart from a stone structure resembling a table of sorts which was up against the furthest wall. The floor itself was wooden and covered with a light sprinkling of red clay, similar to the clay that was in the bowl she carried. The Lady instructed me to sit on a small cushion that she pulled out from behind the table. She told me to make myself comfortable as I would be meditating here for some time. Placing the bowl of red clay on the floor in front of me, she told me to close my eyes and breathe long, slow, deep breaths .After some time and when I had settled into a rhythm, she placed the bowl in my hands and directed me to run my fingers through the clay. This I did. As the cool earth touched my skin, I found my inner being began to respond to the feel of Mother Earth’s riches.

At first the feelings were purely physical and external, although they did relate on some level to the place I had reached in my meditation. But then the vibrations began. Uncertain whether they were internal or external, I remained where I was. It seemed then that I opened my eyes, although looking back I am uncertain of whether what I saw entered the room or whether it was a vision. It mattered little either way. What I saw was real, whether it was visible to the physical realm, or only manifested in the invisible worlds.

This is what I saw:

A group of women were gathered around in a circle. Each held a torch whose light flickered brightly in the darkness that enveloped them. They all wore similar long, flowing dresses, all in white. They swayed gently as they walked around a set of stones built to form a small cairn in the centre of the circle. They chanted quietly and in unison. One of them turned and looked my way. She beckoned me to come and join them. As I approached they shifted slightly apart to make room for me. Then they each caught each others hands so that I too held the hands of those who stood on either side of me. Amazingly I heard and knew the words that they were chanting so that I too could join in. Following their rhythms I recited with them these words: ‘Hail Mary, full of grace, The Source of All is with you, Blessed are you, along with all women, And blessed is the fruit of all you do’’. And then the room suddenly filled up with a host of women, all of whom I knew were related to me, but most of whom I had never met, simply because they either preceeded my time, or were to come after me. It came to me that I was one of a whole lineage of blessed women. And in that moment I felt full to overflowing with gratitude, and so I began to sing a song of praise and thanksgiving to the Sacred Feminine for the gift of life, the chance to be one with all of these and with all of life. And when I lay down, stretched out full on the red earth, prostrated before the Divine, it was then that I opened my eyes and saw that I was alone. The vision was gone. Even the Lady was gone. I was alone. I was not alone.