Her Story Portal

In early August 2024, a portal opened up in our house, in the corner of the dining room.  It took me a while to figure it out – a portal to where?  I had the idea that a portal is an opening between two different realities, worlds, times or locations.  It is that, in a way, but like a breeze, I couldn’t pin it down.

Tulku and Freya called my attention to the spot, Freya first. She is often attracted to the ‘bad energy’ spots, her way of warning us of a potential threat.  She will also ‘bug me’ when my energy moves into incongruent frequencies. We’d had a dowser survey the footprint of the old house before we began the rebuild and he’d said that it was a ‘sensitive’ spot and not to put anything important there.  The energy felt unwelcoming, almost hostile.  Birds nesting in the gables above tended to fledge very early, as if they couldn’t wait to leave, or even get pushed out of their nests too soon.

Initially, I investigated with a problem-solving approach, from a place of separation.  This resulted in an outbreak of fleas, on Tulku’s tail and the base of Freya’s tail, as she doesn’t have a tail – it was cut off before she came to us  I thought there was ‘some bad energy’ coming through, a leak in our defences.  Perhaps that was true and maybe ‘de-fences is de-problem,’ at least in this context.  Could it be that my problem-solving approach was creating a problem and the portal was both obliging in its creativity and then defending itself, with fleas?  Freya and Tulku are patient teachers, with scant regard for their own comfort; I have to be vigilant and present, not to project my own agendas onto them.  Yes, be present.  And what is it with the tails?

Curiosity is a fine friend, embracing the being-ness of all party-goers for the delight of discovery, with perfect respect to differences.  There is a timeless quality to natural boundaries and the sense of space, that is alive with movement and blurred at the edges.  From a distance there is a clear definition between the woods and the meadow, but when you are there, it’s a soft transition in which time and space lose touch with each other.  I looked at the portal space with fresh eyes and an open-heart. Wow – who are you? And with a source-y wink, she invited me in.

So I sat on a chair and I was aware I was there, but there was more and so am I.

I re-membered myself. I’ve lost myself here before, in another place and time on the still point of the Autumn Equinox.  I was walking the dogs in the woods I’ve known all my life, when a silver shimmer appeared on the periphery of my vision and suddenly I didn’t know where I was.  I knew the place, I knew where the car was parked, I knew how far I was from home, but I didn’t recognise the path and it took me nearly an hour to find my way out of the woods.  When I got home that day, I went into a fever and had to go to bed.  The next morning the stomach ulcer I’d had for twenty years was healed.  I came to associate the Autumn Equinox with healing, but is it that?

Our portal is in the etherial branches of an ancient tree stump, now buried deep underground. In the portal, I lose all sense of time.  I am awake, my eyes are open most of the time, I can feel my body and I can see what is going on around me, even talk if I want to, but my mind is….where is my mind?  Have I lost it?  Or am I finding it? My breathing slows and deepens and I relax and every cell opens up. There is a pressure, a sensation at the base of the skull at the back of the neck (activation of the medulla oblongata) that gradually creeps up to the crown.

This portal is in alignment with the Galactic Centre; it is regenerative, original codes streaming through and another current too, nuanced and textured.  Eventually, I came to real-eyes that it is a portal into the lucid mind of the Earth, where she dreams with her children.  This dream is as it ever was, however, for the past 400,000 years or so, we have been hooked into an alien dream and feeding it from the Source.  Without the heady elixir of free will, the animals, plants and trees, the mountains and rocks, waters and elementals live, as they always have, in the ancient dream stream. They have much to share.

I call it a story portal, as this type of portal opens in resonance with a story-maker.  Story-maker rather than story-teller, as the telling is after the fact and secondary.  Of course, we like to tell our stories and the rare pleasure of listening and sharing is not to be dismissed, but the stories themselves are not so important.  In fact, as soon as you give importance to the story, no matter how important it might seem to be, you take yourself out of the dream stream and into the external world that is governed by a different set of rules.

Within the portal, the attachments that hooked our memories into the alien narrative are dissolved and primal memory wells up. This isn’t particularly apparent in the portal, but outside the usual triggers no longer work and ordinary events blossom like a star-burst in the multi-layered miracle of existence.  Enhanced awareness with all that entails. Every event is recorded in the subliminal mind, but we have been trained to give importance and therefore our creative attention, to some experiences rather than others and these are much easier to recall.  This set up a pattern that supported the artificial construct.

There are thousands of story portals in our world and many are already open and streaming.  Others are waiting to be opened by any original human who chooses to co-create their character, their life and their world, with the dreaming power of the Earth. The story we make of our lives is a gift to ourselves we give back to the Earth, to be brought forth through other portals and means. This is the source of our original magic. When we follow our inner guidance with sentient imagination and reflect on what shows up and give it words, we create a path for the Earth’s dream streams to move along. We feel the connection through embodied solutions to seemingly intractable problems as new ideas take root and things change in unexpected and delightful ways….miracles happen.

There are other kinds of portals and some are connected with vortices, the dragon powers, like ours. Tulku began sitting with me in the portal and he is telling me the story of the Dragon Dogs, the Guardians of the Portals, what happened to them when the portals closed.

Every dog has its tale.