America

In the English-speaking world, America almost always refers only to the United States, even though technically it could refer to North and South America together. The usual etymological story is that America comes from Amerigo Vespucci, the Italian navigator who voyaged to the Americas shortly after Columbus and claimed to have discovered them. His name appeared Latinized as America in a geographical treatise published around that time, and the name stuck. To be fair, Vespucci was the first to claim that the Americas were separate continents, and he was the first to refer to them as Mundus Novus, the New World. Why the cartographer rejected the name Vespucia is unknown, but personally I think we can all be grateful to him for choosing America.

The name Amerigo, by the way, is Italian, but ultimately derived from Gothic Almarich, “work-ruler” (compare German reich, “kingdom”), and is cognate with the English names Emmerich and Emery. Thus America is not originally Latin or Italian, but Germanic.

There are a couple of alternative theories for the origin of America – fascinating ones, if unlikely. One is that America was originally named after a region of Nicaragua called Amerrique, visited by both Columbus and Vespucci, and rich in gold; and that Vespucci actually changed his name from Alberigo to Amerigo to reflect the importance of the discovery. If this is true, then America is not derived from Germanic, but from an indigenous name. Another is that it is named after Richard Amerike, an English financier who may have underwritten the voyages of John Cabot as well as pre-Columbus voyages to North America in search of cod. The name Amerike is an Anglicized version of the original Welsh name ap Meryk, “son of Meryk”; so in this case America is originally a Celtic name!

The sounds in America seem to parallel the history of the United States. The first syllable, “a”, is pronounced “uh” and indicates both freedom and thoughtfulness, and is appropriate for the Declaration of Independence, the Constitution, and the Federalist Papers. Its primary syllable, “mer”, is similar to the Middle English mere of mermaid, and Latin mare of maritime – the sea – and suggests a manifestation of strength and power, appropriate for the military and economic strength of the United States as it extended its domain across the continent. The next syllable, “ric”, is similar to rich, reach, and Reich, and indicates solidification and containment of power, appropriate to America’s imperial ambitions. The final syllable, “a”, is pronounced “ah”, and indicates a return to Source energy. This corresponds to nothing in America’s history… so far. We can only hope.

Angel

Angel is not a word from Proto Indo European; it began as a term in some unknown Asian language, perhaps related to Sanskrit ajira, “swift”. This term was borrowed into Greek at some point — the Greeks had a great deal of commerce with southern Russia, Turkey, and the Middle East — and became both angaros, “mounted courier”, and angelos, “messenger”. When the Bible was written in Greek, angelos was chosen to translate the Hebrew term mal’akh yhwh, “messenger of God”. When the Bible was translated into Latin, instead of using a Latin term for “messenger”, such as cursor or nuntium, the word angelos was borrowed over as angelus. This then descended into English as angel.

The sounds of angel indicate an elastic, spread-out energy that narrows toward a troubled or difficult decision point, before relaxing into a liquid light/air state. The primary stressed syllable (”ang”) carries the focus of the meaning, which is the gathering of the energy to the decision point. Presumably this refers to the action of the angels in guiding their charges through difficult times.

Apollo

The Greek god of medicine and healing, light, truth, archery, colonists, prophecy, herds and flocks, music, poetry, and the sun. The origin of his name is uncertain, though there are many possibilities — apollumi, “the destroyer”; apolusis, “redeem”; apolousis, “purification”; aploun, “simple” or “unity”; aei-ballon “ever-shooting”; and apella “assembly”. The name may also be from the ancient Hittite diety Aplu, a god of healing, who may in turn have come from the Akkadian sun god Aplu Enlil, whose name meant literally “son of Enlil”, Enlil being one of the chief Sumerian gods. If this is the case, Apollo’s worship goes back to the dawn of Middle Eastern civilization.

Apollo’s name indicates Source energy that expands from a point to fill volume, like light; the result is a grounded, wholesome power.

The Bear is known the world over as a symbol of protection, self-sufficiency, rebirth, the sun, and the abundance of the earth. During the winter, the mother bear retreats into hibernation, and at that time she gives birth to her cubs; little wonder that she is associated with the sun. She makes her dwelling in the Earth, and therefore has a special knowledge and intimacy with it. Tales the world over speak of bears turning into humans and vice versa: the whole Korean nation, for example, is supposed to have descended from a she-bear who made herself human by eating 21 cloves of garlic and retreating into a cave for a month. The bear is associated with protection not just because of her size and power, but because of her well-known fierceness when guarding her children — a necessary fierceness, because a father bear will sometimes kill his own cubs if their mother does not protect them.

I created this meditation based on my own recent experiences. In it, I guide you through a visualization of a landscape of forested mountains, rushing streams, and brilliant starry nights: the natural home of the bear.

The bear will show you how to become secure and protected, both in the physical and spiritual realms. And it will show you how to gather the resources you need to live and grow on the Earth; and how to retreat into the safety of darkness and, there, be reborn.

During the course of the meditation, the bear will give you three visions. The first vision will appear when you are crossing into the bear’s domain, and it will be a symbol of the bear’s power and protection. The second vision will appear as you move within the realm of the bear, and it will be a symbol of the bear’s self-sufficiency and the abundance of the Earth. The third vision will appear within the bear’s cave, and it will be a symbol of the power of rebirth and self-transformation. These symbols, delivered by your subconscious and your guides, will be meaningful for you; and by thinking about them, meditating on them, and seeking them day to day, you will bring the power and guidance of the bear into your life.

The meditation is 14 minutes long and 13 MB. Like all my meditations, it is available for a donation of any amount. (There is a suggested donation of $10, but you can easily change it to whatever figure you feel is appropriate.) Enjoy!

(And while you’re at it, don’t forget the many other downloadable meditations available on the Guided Meditations page.)

The Pearl of Purpose

I was wandering along a dusty road at sunset. The road ran straight as an arrow toward a line of distant hills; the sun had just dropped below them, so the sand in the road and the tall dry grass on either side of it were all painted dusky purple. Marching along the road to my left was a line of tall wooden poles, like telephone poles without wires.

I had a sense of being watched; I looked off to the right, and saw a bison standing motionlessly a few dozen yards off, half-hidden by the grass.

The line of poles came to an end, and at the top of the last one was an iridescent translucent pearl-colored ball, about the size of a basketball. I shimmied up the pole and took the ball — it was so light and soft, I almost couldn’t feel it at all.

What is this? I wondered. The bison answered: This is the Pearl of Great Price. This is the Pearl of Purpose. A soul’s greatest gift, and the greatest gift you can give to another. It is Will, it is Freedom, it is Decision. Give it away — you will always have more. Hold it in your hand — it will bless your action. Hold it in your heart — keep it safe.

Oftentimes when I speak to a guide in meditation, I feel profoundly thankful, and I wish to give something back — not in exchange, but as a token of gratitude. At these times, I am inspired to reach into my heart and draw out a small white pearl, and hand it to the guide. I really don’t know what it is, but the guides all seem to be delighted with the gift.

The Shipwreck

I was rowing a tiny boat out to sea, rowing hard, rowing urgently. Behind me land was a smudge on the edge of vision. The waves were choppy, the sky blustery.

A school of silver fish raced under me, surrounding the boat on all sides. Some leapt out of the water; they looked at me, they called to me. I jumped in after them.

The sea was dark and quiet and cool. I swam down, surrounded by the silver fish. Deep, deep below the surface, I saw an outcropping of undersea rock, long-frozen lava. Something was there, smashed and splintered on the crag.

A ship — a sailboat. Its sails long since dissolved, its white hull grimy, I swam up to it and rubbed away some of the slime.

There was the ship’s name: Endurance.

At this time, I was working very hard at my job and family obligations. Eventually I … well, I kind of broke down. I think this meditation was trying to warn me of that.

The Glittering Beach

I was sitting on a beach, the waves crashing, flashing and glittering in the late morning sun. The ocean was like a sea of heaving light. As I sat watching, a young woman came walking up the beach towards me. She had a deep tan, and wore loose light clothes, orange and red. She came up and sat down by me, and I saw that her face was apple-shaped, open, honest, and smiling.

“I am a messenger,” she said. “I’m here to tell you that the time of freedom and joy is coming; it is coming soon. There will be universal peace and happiness, very soon.”

“I’ve heard this message before,” I said. “I want to believe it. But how can I know it is true?”

“Listen to your heart,” she said. “You know it’s true.”

“What sign can you give me?” I asked.

She held out her hand and gave me a tiny crystalline structure; it was alive, forming different shapes as I watched it, like a tesseract.

I did this meditation just after listening to my recording of the meditation for Loving Kindness, so I was at a very “high vibration”. Make of it what you will!

The Flute of Dawn

I sat on a blanket in the grass shortly before dawn, the dew falling. I was aware of the cold and the wet, but somehow I didn’t feel it. A dozen yards away is a cluster of rabbits, barely visible in the half-light, nibbling contentedly, alert, calm.

I see a fairy princess approaching. She is about one foot high, translucent and ghostly, clad in a silver gown, with pearly jewels and crown.

What is your purpose here? she asks. Her words do not disturb the air.

I come in peace and fellowship.

Be welcome, then.

And now I can see the other fairies — banquet tables are laid out on the lawn, and they are feasting, talking, laughing in silver voices. The rabbits move among them, eating their own feast alongside them in fellowship.

I walk among the tables, too, for now I am the same size as they are — or perhaps size is simply undefined… They nod and greet me as I pass.

A young boy of the Good Folk is standing a little apart on a small rise, watching the sun coming, lost in thought. I greet him, and he offers me a gift: a fairy flute. Gratefully I put it to my lips. The sound of the flute is the same sound the sun makes when it rises…

In return, I reach into my heart and pull out a marble-sized pearl of purpose. He takes it with delight.

The Elemental Powers

A little way from the shore of the ocean is a rocky, sandy island, clothed in wind-beaten pines. It is the Isle of Smoke, the place I go to when I want to meditate on an intention manifestation. Today I’m standing at the far side of the island, where a tumble of rocks stands sentry at the edge of the sea.

But now a ghostly column of stones is rising from the rocky edge, and I can make out stairs carved into them. I hesitantly place a foot on the half-invisible stair… It holds my weight.

I climb. The stairs go almost directly up; sometimes I use my hands, as if it were a ladder. The island shrinks below me; I am far out and above the ocean. Higher and higher, and now I am leaving the very atmosphere behind — the blanket of air is gone, and I am climbing slowly up among the cold stars. I can feel the unbelievable cold, but it is simply there, not unpleasant or painful.

I climb a very long time, and then look down. The world is not round, but flat, small and square, a blue postage stamp almost lost in the black starscape. Still the stairs climb.

At last I stop. I’m not at the top yet, but I can’t climb any further. Somehow hanging here before me is a huge ghostly face, like the ones carved into Mt. Rushmore. Its eyes are half-lidded like a Buddha’s; it half-smiles, like Mona Lisa. A vast presence, so huge, so unchanging, so pervasive that it touches each of us, yet so familiar that we never notice it. Motionless, as if carved from stone.

I look around, and see other ghostly faces among the stars.

These great beings, I realized, were the Elemental Powers, spirits of goodwill that bless us with a working world. Gravity, electromagnetism, nuclear forces, chemical bonds… They are linked to the Isle of Smoke by a tenuous stony stair.

The Man of the Delta

A wide plain, a river delta, low hills on all sides, sandy, dry grasses, warm and humid; gentle breeze. There at the edge of the sea is a terra cotta tower, straight on one side and sloping on the other. I walk through the sand, avoiding the thousands of rivulets. The sky is heavy, waiting to unload its rain.

I am welcomed into the tower by a wizened old man, an earth spirit; his room here on the bottom floor has rugs, incense, woven hangings. It is an earth-toned palatial hut. He is a fantastic artist in cloth and pottery. Another old man, nearly toothless, sits in a corner, grinning and grinning, and playing a stringed instrument with unearthly beauty.

My host leads me up stairs to the second level — a huge, dark empty space. I am unlear on why this is empty. Then we go up a rope ladder to the top of the tower, where we sit and have a smoke and look over the sea.

We talk: he has been incarnated physically many times, he says, and has enjoyed it, but is taking a break for a while. His talk is filled with long, comfortable silences.

As I leave, there is much thanking and your-welcoming; as a token of gratitude I give him a Pearl from my heart, and he kisses it and it bursts into a hundred tiny white ghostly butterflies that fly round my head.

I feel intuitively that this man is one of my muses — perhaps the one who works with me when I draw.

Coming Back

I was rowing in a boat, across choppy water, returning from a long journey. I think I had been at the Isle of Smoke, a place I go in my inner landscape to place intentions and entreat the powers.

I rowed up to the shore, but I was utterly beyond exhaustion and I had a lot of trouble bringing the boat in. I noticed my body was wasted, emaciated, like I’d been fasting on the island. Had I been an ascetic? I was met on shore by my anima and bunch of others, who half-carried me, half-walked me up to my anima’s room.

She sat me down at the table and insisted I try to eat something. She gave me a spoonful of some white, pearly liquid, but I barely had strength to eat, and I found my body collapsing. I let it go, and without really meaning to, I disengaged from my body.

Now I was formless, a kind of shapeless ball hovering over the table. Everyone in the room looked up at me, and they started talking about whether I would return to the body. It was clear in my mind that I could choose to go back in or not — that it was entirely up to me; but I didn’t like the idea of not having a body, so I re-engaged. My anima helped me to a bed and fed me more, and as she did so, I felt slightly more enervated and awake.

I became aware of Apollo and some of my other guides standing nearby. Apollo was glad of my decision to return, and also congratulated me on finishing my time on the Island. I asked why my body was so weak, what the purpose was, and he replied I would find out one day. I could only laugh.

I did this meditation two years ago, at a time when I had been pushing myself very hard, getting sick, and not sleeping or eating well. My marriage was also ending, though I didn’t realize it at the time. I was, I think, subconsciously working very hard so that I could keep myself from having to face that fact. In a way, I was trying not to be present — to get away from my body — so I wouldn’t have to deal with my situation.

…It didn’t work. Thank goodness!