The witch circle

I stepped in to the street and silence hit me. The cars, tourists, theatre goers fast food masticators and lights stopped. The street allowed for my to hear leaves swirling in the wind. It had trees. In the very heart of London, a walk from my old college, and it appeared as if I where in some old village.

Aware of my being alone I followed the shop windows into the belly of the silence and found the address. It had an old fashioned window decorated with books. A bell on the door jingled announcement of my presence and I let my self in, climbing into a warm, cosy brown store. Passing the ordinary window dressing, objects of curiosity slipped in to view. Stuffed birds. Feathers. Bones. Crystals. Oils. the books too they changed image, most where used and antique. There was no space in the library for the common sorts of fiction, this shop was dedicated to all the tiny corners of Esoteric reading which exist in public libraries or are pushed on to a shelf in bookshops. It contained only books on magic.

You are expected downstairs.

A lady from the counter told me. How did she know?

I tottered downstairs carefully sniffing the air like a woodland creature wondering what will i find. I was told i had to come barefoot or in slippers and dressed comfortable. Downstairs was the temple room. More like a school classroom. Floors carpeted. Chairs plastic. People of various ages sat and cheerfully chatted all seemingly well acquainted. I returned to the small hallway to abandon my coat on a pile of velvets, hats with feathers and staffs, than found a chair and awaited what was to be.

The lady who invited me I recognised immediately. Red curling long hair falling down her back and front framing a small face with a long fringe. She was very slim accentuated by the black clothes, small, and her movements timid. I had perhaps expected an international author proud of her achievements to be more boastful with shoulders out and a tone more domineering. But this creature looked like the real thing. Like someone very comfortable in nature. She had sparky brown deep eyes which could not be mistaken, and which stored knowledge of mysteries that I would like to hear of, whilst her voice was very quiet, excepting of out busrsts of giggles. She would fit very comfortabley in a fairy tale. With the perfect name, Viviane.

A cricle of chairs was formed. A Tibetan bell cut the rooms chatter into silence. We where asked to introduce our names and previous attendance and it appeared I was the rare novice. The eclectic lights where extinguished.

Viviane spoke about the time of year. It was late November. In the earley autom all the fruits are picked, harvests are made and than everything starts to quiten down, die. It is a process of quiet regeneration. All is still for a while, leaves have dropped off trees. As November ends a new celebratory period begins, festivities, outbursts of energy, clebratiing life and the promise of the new year. Vivian's descriptions where very poetical, explaining wondefuly the earth's movements.

Afterwards a sort of ceremony started.

A man acompanied vivane to light four candles for the four earth directions. They honoured the elements and than invited arch angels to guard us . Incense too was passed to bless the group. Than the meditation started. Quite simple meditation formulated alike many I have read about and experienced, based on visualisation. Walking in our mind to a certain place in nature.

At one point I found my self in a clearing in the woods beneath a full moon night. I was asked to feel the energy golden light from the ground and earth going into my feet and the light energy of the universe entering me from above. I could visualise it, raining-in the fleeting images from expanding on the theme.

But than the voice asked us to stand up, walk a step towards the middle of the room, and take the hands of the two people standing next to us, eyes still closed. We all did as did I taking each other by the hands and compleating a circle. The second I did, I hared the shushing of white noise in my ear. I imagined somone had turned on a radio. It was very loud almost like waterfalls. As the voice talked over the noise, something about energy flowing trough us all, I started to feel very faint. My plams tingleled, the head hurt, the ears where burning from the inside, the stomach fell sick, and the shushing got louder .The knees began to crumble beneath me and whilst I tired to not embarrass my self with this unexpected weakness, I could no longer stand on two feet, and pulled back far enough to sit down. I continued holding hands with the people next to me and felt my self going smaller, crumbling into the gravity pulling me down, wanting nottihng more but to drop on to the floor , curl up like a ball and loose consciousness. It lasted long , impossible, painful eternities. But I fought to stay awake more out of embarrassment in front of all these new people, than else.

Than we where told to let go of the hands. The instant that I did, the whole thing stopped.

The noise stopped ,as did the burning in the ears, and pain in the head and the sickness in stomach, it all ended.

I recovered fast, shocked at this very physical experience such as I have never had in meditation. I talked to Viviane about it afterwards but she suggested that perhaps it was my artist mind flipping sounds into visuals and visuals into sounds, which made sense in my ordinary life, but not here, not now.It did not explain the force which passed trough me and only once I was connected to all those people who to where visualising the sharing of energy. I wanted her to tell me that she too had felt it at some point, that exactley that sort of experiences is hidden in her mischievous eyes, and that is why she has been writing for so long, but no such confession was given. No one else in the room seemed to have any sort of reaction other than the pleasure of having meditated together.

Did happen because of twenty of us being joined at the hands and ended as soon as we where not? But I could not define weather I truly did feel everybody's energy, and the energy of the earth and space flowing tough us, and this being too much for me? On the other hand should not this energy make us feel good? Or weather I just reacted to someone in that circle who's energy was malicious, and who made me feel so ill.

The meditation ended, people departed, and I left back in to the night, both a little frightened and very curious, still uncertain as to what has happened.