Magic Carpet Ride, by Viktor Vasnetsov (1848-1926).
Magic Carpet Ride, by Viktor Vasnetsov (1848-1926).

Time, timelines, bending time, time travel, time flying.

In late-August 2000, I stepped out of time and, as a result, remembered the future.

More on that in a bit, but first, here’s the set-up for this “Time Machine” blog-fest post.

Linda of the LiteBeing Chronicles blog has shared her passion and interest for all things ‘Time Travel” (and, she writes, her obsession with time) by inviting her fellow bloggers to muse-up a post for her Time Machine blog-fest.

So here is the musing that rose to the surface for my Time-Travel, Time-Machine contribution, per the following guidelines from Linda:

Pick a time in your life that was critical to your development. You can go back or forwards in time. It can be real or imagined. After all, it is real if you imagine it!
Choose an idea or a skill or a value you hold dear in the present and infuse it into that time period.

Share your story of what happens to positively impact your life.

So, into the Time Machine and off we go …

At the end of August 2000, I stepped out of time, and ended up remembering the future.

Needless to say, that has a way of altering — or restoring — your perception and perspective, and reorganizing your life as you’ve known it up ’til then.

That’s putting it mildly … both softened and sharpened through the lens of time and hindsight.

Even in our time-ordered culture, there are many ways we loosen our connection with clock-and-calendar ‘linear time’, whether for a moment or in a more epic way.

Bridge in the Woods (1885-86), by Rafail Sergeevich-Levitsky (1847–1940). Image courtesy WikiCommons.
Bridge in the Woods (1885-86), by Rafail Sergeevich-Levitsky (1847–1940). Image courtesy WikiCommons.

We might reach that momentary timelessness — a state or experience that so many seek — in meditation, or in a mystic or ‘peak’ experience, or when we’re ‘in the flow’ and lose track of time.

And then we might step out of time in a different way, as in what we could call Epically Transformative Experiences — utterly life-altering, perception-shifting, conditioning-deconstructing events like NDEs, ego-dissolving ‘lightning strikes’, and similar sorts of things.

That was the case for me, in late August 2000 anyway, when an odd string of circumstances landed me in a surgery room of a hospital on the other side of the planet from where I now reside.

This post won’t include the details of that particular Epically Transformative Experience (or EPE … cuz that acronym amuses me), for now anyway.

It’s an immensely personal and also Mystery-linked ‘event story’ of its own, and one for which I hold the details more closely, share more discerningly … other offspring-qualities born out of that experience, and strengthened through the crucible of experience since.

That said, such EPE experiences are gateways or portals of sorts …

As with any EPE, whether NDE or otherwise, what follows is the unrelenting deconstruction of Life as We Knew It.

After The EPE, all that we identified with is systematically reduced to rubble … a smoking ash heap (and hence the ultimate chance to ‘Phoenix’, as I wrote in a previous Sophia’s Children post).

What unfolded in the wake of my EPE was no different. Deconstruction. Smoldering Rubble. Ash Heap.

If you’ve experienced it, you’ll know what I mean.

You’ll also know — if you’ve traveled enough distance since then — that something unexpected happens in the wake, through the ‘rubbling’:

Old forgotten treasures shine through, and we remember things … sometimes ancient, powerful things … that got squashed down, buried, and paved over.

One of the treasures that I uncovered in the rubble of that deconstruction and related ‘archaeological dig’ was a long and ancient thread of my (and our) lineage: the very potent and enlivening power of ‘mythic memory’.

The first of the Voyage of Life paintings by my fellow Imbolc-born Aquarian Thomas Cole (1801–1848)
The first of the Voyage of Life paintings by my fellow Imbolc-born Aquarian Thomas Cole (1801–1848)

The living power of myth and story, symbol and archetype that was so vital to many of our ancestors and that got severed, lost, or co-opted and stuffed into a very tiny box along the way.

This ‘mythic memory’ restores an ancient golden thread — a type of psychic and energetic pathway through which story, insight, forgotten values and virtues, inspiration, courage, resilience, and other legacy treasures might travel.

‘Mythic memory’ is its own sort of ‘time machine’ — bending and merging ‘timelines’ through the living nature and transmission of symbol, myth, and archetype (timeless ‘characters’ or qualities).

Through it, we’re able to time travel, in a way, and bring, restore, invite, or invoke certain insights, wisdom, and other rememberings of the timeless indigenous/ancestral-soul into the present, and thus into the future that’s always being repeated or woven anew now.

Hence the phrase ‘remembering the future (for which I thank fellow writer and ancestral-wisdom-rememberer Frank MacEowen).

As I was revisiting MacEowen’s lovely book, The Celtic Way of Seeing, and having now spent a fair number of years reconnecting with the mythic memory and ancestral-wisdom wellspring, I resonated even more with this insight-musing from MacEowen than I did when I first read the book in 2007 or 2008.

The Return of Persephone, by Frederic, Lord Leighton (1891)
The Return of Persephone, by Frederic, Lord Leighton (1891)

He writes,

“Mythic memory is like a muscle. Exercised, it can become a vital gateway of perception, inspiration, healing and spiritual connection. Yet it can also become atrophied. …

… To reconnect with the spiritual guidance of the mythic past — what e might think of as ‘mythic memory rehabilitation’ — we must enter into the heart of the myths themselves to feel, once again, their sacred pulse, thereby also awakening something in the ancient blood coursing through our veins.” (Frank MacEowen, The Celtic Way of Seeing)

Every culture and spiritual or wisdom tradition has its ‘living myth and symbol’ repository that stirs the well of remembering — once it’s been cleared of any overlays placed by those who would co-opt it and ‘steal the magic’, so to speak.

Particularly in times of challenge, uncertainty, epic transformation (sound familiar?) — what the vision-poets David Whyte and John O’Donohue referred to as ‘the fierce edges of Life’ — stirring and tapping into mythic memory (and the symbols, archetypes, insights, wisdom associated with it) can allow us to, in a sense, time travel, or blur the edges and boundaries of ‘time’ as we understand it the culture’s linear orientation.

The Titan's Goblet (1833) by Thomas Cole.
The Titan’s Goblet (1833) by Thomas Cole.

Through it, we can invite into our awareness and energy a needed or heart-desired quality, virtue, or storyline — particularly in alignment with our highest purpose and ‘the good of all beings’ (vs. ego-vice wants).

By stepping out of time so … vividly and intensely … back in late August 2000, and certain experiences that unfolded since, I was reacquainted with the power of mythic memory and its repository of riches.

And in that repository or well of remembering, we have access to the very much timeless and alive mythic stories, symbols, and archetypes, the insights and wisdom, that enliven, stir, create, inspire, center, and guide us as we ‘remember the future’ more wisely, gracefully, and creatively from where we are right now.

For Time Machine musings from other Time Travelers, visit Linda’s LiteBeing blog. Michael at Embracing Forever will be sharing his Time Machine musings next.

To explore how you can use these and other inspiration-stirring practices to revitalize your own ‘timeline’ and possibilities, send me an email (info ‘at’ ivysea ‘dot’ com).

For mythic-memory-activating audio programs, check out the Feminine Mojo Mystery School wellspring of resources — I’ve extended the current Special Offer for another week or so.

Big Love,