Wednesday, July 27, 2011

Dark Moon's Courage


Last night I had a dream:

At first, I was the night, as if emerging from a bottle of black ink. My arms, a dark blanket cradling a forest of tall trees. They seemed naked and vulnerable, perhaps stripped of their leaves by a dishonorable fall wind. Dutifully, I stretched my arms wide to keep them hidden within my darkness. How fierce a protectress the night is, I thought as I stared at a sickle-shaped moon. And then, I started to change form.

Dead twigs cracked beneath my knees as my body became solid and took human shape. I was kneeling now, alone, in the forest among the trees. I looked up at the beauty of a deep purple sky punctured through with starlight. While all the time feeling gravity’s cruel pressure burdening my shoulders. Was I kneeling in wonderment or supplication? Oh brother trees, have pity on me, if only my knees could take root and join you in such sublime solitude -

A flash of unexpected light accompanied by a sharp pain in my forehead cut my woe mid-sentence. Was it a hunter’s arrow? Maybe the goddess Diana? Or, had the gods slung the sickle-moon at me in a moment of myth-making drama? Then, I heard these words:

Courage. That is all I have ever taught you.

The voice conjured an image in my mind. If only you could have heard it - commanding and melodious, admonishing and accepting, a youthful woman yet a mature warrior. How close I felt to this voice whose mystery was hidden in self-contradiction.

I can’t entirely explain what happened next; except that all my emotions, good and bad, were soaked up by something otherworldly. It was as if a black hole had opened before me, sucking my soul clean of all debris, leaving an immaculate vacuum for her words to germinate. Courage. That is all I have ever taught you. And then, I changed form, one last time.

A desire to locate something was my first sensation, then thirst. I was moving at a fast trot, snapping my way through indignant branches with a shake of antlers. Direction came easily. The smell of moist soil and bark made the wind a detailed map. A wild energy heated my body. This is what it feels like to be untamed, I thought with a joyous burst of freedom.

Slowing pace, I reached a pool of water where the river came to a stand-still. At its edge I leaned forward to drink, but stopped just short. The face of a white stag stared back with searching eyes. Courage. That is all I have ever taught you. This time the words were mine, spoke in unison with my proud, shadowy reflection. Our lips met in the water as I quenched my thirst.


Lawren Leo can be reached for psychic counsel at (954) 788-4988 or:

Monday, July 4, 2011

The Stone's Riddle

A rock pile ceases to be a rock pile the moment a single man contemplates it,
bearing within him the image of a cathedral. -
Antoine de Saint-Exupéry.

On my desk sits a fist-sized sardonyx stone. This is not your usual stone. It seems to me utterly perfect. It is smooth and glossy with hazy purples running into misty tones of gray, like watercolors suddenly turned into glass. It sits next to a tall, red, tapered candle. They want to be next to one another. For the candle’s flame magically reflects golden eyes and tongues onto its friend’s shiny surface. The stone radiates wisdom. It wants to speak. Captivated, I ask it to share a secret with me as I study its shape.

It’s an illusion. Those were the words it spoke. I pondered their meaning. And then, the stone spoke once more:

I am many names, yet none
Under each man’s gaze only one.

I understood the riddle quickly: a rock is not just a rock. To a practitioner of Santeria it may be an Elegua head, to a geologist a mineral with a clever Latin name, to a child a magical amulet. In a cemetery it becomes a tombstone, on a desk it functions as a paperweight. But under my gaze it became a promise.

We transform our lives with promises, a vow to diet, to remain loyal, to remain sober. Sharpening our willpower and training our thoughts helps us to tap into its ancient currents of intent and change. To make a promise is to wield magic and the place in which it begins is our inner temple.

Our inner temple is made of actions and deeds. Use this following exercise once a month to strengthen your will and self-esteem. As you do, the walls of your temple will become stronger, impenetrable. Until finally, you are able to sit in meditation at its center as the Universe reveals her mysteries.

(For this exercise you will need a piece of paper, something to write with and a stone, any size or color.)

Mind Over Matter
On one side of the paper write your wish or goal. (For example: Increased Creativity).

On the other side of the paper write seven promises that you will keep for seven days. You may want to structure it with dates, then your promise. Here are some of mine:

June 5, 2011
call an old friend

June 6, 2011
abstain from coffee or tea today

June 7, 2011
go out of my way to help someone

June 8, 2011
tell a funny joke

Once you have chosen the promises, write out all seven. Next, put it on your altar or table and place a stone on it. As the stone touches the paper it is symbolically sealing your word, very much like saying ‘Amen’ or ‘So be it!’ At the end of your seven-day commitment, when your ‘Promise Card,’ as I like to call it, is finished, you may burn it or simply throw it away. Remember to be gentle with yourselves. If you miss a day, simply start over. Do not put undue stress into the mixture.

Each day, when you reach for your stone say this affirmation: Now, my goals are within reach.

There are many ways to increase personal power and hone your will. Practice yoga, study the tarot and meditate to urge more creative moments. This, in conjunction with your Promise Card, will let your psyche’s architect discover new ways to build your inner temple.

Lawren Leo can be reached for psychic counsel at: