Encounters with the Empress
- Mother Meera, in ‘Answers’
It happened in that time of significant trouble. The outward dilemmas had finally ceased. These included but were by no means limited to the two women that had appeared, and through a particular sort of magnetism, caused certain misfortunes to Jacob and themselves. They had been like sirens or like some kind of bright purple or orange fighter fish adorned with painted bodies. It took a long time to put them in abeyance, along with other more amicable contacts that had turned conspiratorial. And what was more; there was no twelve step program for matters of the soul, or even for more nuanced problems of the secular type. But it had been done, and to give up the past proved akin to letting go of a chemical dependence or at the least something sorely required.
The problem was that there was an inner life also. Its ache and voice would not be dulled or stilled. Universal processes and all of that. Jacob just went along, having faith in things unseen, which as they say, is a definition of faith in itself. Soon days and weeks turned to months and even years. He was in some kind of transition period, difficult to be sure, but necessary. It resembled the abyss, of which he was familiar, but was not an abyss as such. Turquoise can be mistaken for shattuckite, as both have various blue hues and are beautiful, but both hold different characteristics and properties, come from different mines, and most importantly of all, assist in different purposes. The uninitiated might scoff, and say a stone is just a stone, and both are stones, not flowers of Southern France, Chinese lanterns, industrial machinery, crochet needles, or metropolises, and those times of dark are just that,- times of dark and nothing more or less. But though both prove difficult to maneuver within, and appear similar, the abyss and the time of transition are not the same animal.
In the middle of it all an archetypal and esoteric figure made an appearance. She came to see Jacob and Kara in a part of the night that was deepest and most silent. A part of the night before and yet beyond- in depth- the proverbial witching hours. A labyrinthine part that inhabited a secret envelope contained in an under layer of an under layer. There are things there, and they are difficult to remember. Jacob had lived there at times, and Kara was a visitor to such places, and often came back from those places to speak about future events in the lives of those she knew.
The figure appeared with a door behind her, and holding an object in her left hand, though the exact identification of the object was not known about right away. Kara, normally a woman of strong spiritual stature, was starting to go into shock, and soon was paralysed with fear. The figure was tall and looking out from black eyes that stood under white hair. She wore a long green dress that had small symbols emblazoned on it. Jacob walked over to her and hugged her. At his point, as stunned to her core as Kara was, she went into an even deeper shock.
Something else on.
The woman was staring at and straight through Kara. The figure looked and looked some more and then with unwavering intent, in a raised voice, spoke one word. It was the only word that was spoken at all during the visit.
And so Kara knelt. With a sure-fire immediacy the figure raised what she was holding in the hand. She then struck Kara with the cylindrical object.
Second body into first.
In a moment, they were out of that instance. Kara explained to Jacob that the woman was simply too powerful. Sitting up in the bed and staring into space she said, “I was overwhelmed...”
“She came to tell you to take it easy on me,” replied Jacob.
“Why does it always have to be about you?”
“It doesn’t,” said Jacob, “Maybe she just came to kick your ass.”
In the light, by the new hours of days, Jacob contemplated the Empress. He thought about other things, such as Mother Meera, a divine incarnation of the feminine that worked mostly in silence. He had written to Mother Meera once upon a time. Her words, if there were any sent back from Germany, did not reach his hands those years and years ago. But she had spoken to answer questions at some point and Jacob remembered reading the words of the divine mother. She had said that ‘The help will go without miles counting’.
Maybe, Jacob thought, for now, somehow, with the aid of the divine feminine figures, he had managed to end up on the right sight of the difficult transitory hours.