I found myself standing on the edge of a lake where there were three small boats. In one, sat my dad, in the other, sat my grandpa and they invited me into the third. I hopped into the boat with the steadying hand of my dad and we set out across the dark waters of the lake. The air was cool and the night was still. Dusk was folding into night and a gentle steam rose off the water to touch the cool night air. The little boats made soft ripples on the glassy water surface and I had this sense of moving back in time to experience something touched by my ancestors, but hidden from todays view.

Still Waters - Pippa-la Doube. Image from Pixabay and digitally manipulated

We arrived on the further shore where we stood and watched a group of my ancestors dancing around fires in ceremony. There was a grace to them, a beauty that was other worldly. They moved almost in slow motion and they had wings made of soft white plumage. They were Angels, clear and pure. Their hearts were moving their bodies in dance and music and there was a presence about them which was divine and connected to all. It was a stunning site. I noticed then that I was dancing with them, that I was one with them, inside the experience and inside the field of love. Lines of luminous love energy were moving through my being and I was connected through these lines with all of love.

Ancestral Blood - Pippa-la Doube. Digital art imaging

Soon I noticed an unwelcome energy around me. A closing in of the open energy we had been inhabiting. Disruptive. Aggressive. Mean and violent. I found myself being captured by strong arms of a violent force and to my horror, they began to hack off my wings. it was extremely violent and brutal and I felt every moment of it as if they were hacking of my arms with a blunt saw. There was blood every where, staining the white of the plumage with a deep blood red. It soon became apparent that these strong forces were cutting off our wings because we had been pulsing the vibration of love through the world and that was threatening their rule. There were connected to a religious sect that was trying to control the masses and our freedom and love was shameful to them and the only way they could cause us to submit to their rule, was by this act of cutting off our wings.

I felt my heart collapse. It was horror. A massacre site. I looked around and saw the shrunken souls of my formally luminous family and wept. Their shoulders were hunched and they were cradling their wounds. My back felt as if it was on fire where my wings had been butchered and strange stunted scar tissue began to form. I watched the hearts of all my loves around me becoming small. I watched the vanishing of their luminous souls and they became still and resigned. Hope moved like a vapour out of their bodies and left them crumpled. We wept.

The Angel's March - Pippa-la Doube. Image from Pixabay digitally manipulated

The Angel's March - Pippa-la Doube. Image from Pixabay digitally manipulated

We were forced to get up, souls gradually numbing, and were walked away from the ceremonial ground and towards a larger town where the strong forces resided. We were theirs now. We were expected to adhere to their ways. We became  afraid and ashamed of our light. It was suddenly more necessary to forget who were were and we become numb. And gradually we became them. For centuries, we were them. The amount of depression and surpression that resulted from this shaming of the light is astounding.

After centuries in this suppression, some souls began to stir. We started to feel that there is another way for humanity. We were glimpsing another way of being as we began to touch our light again more and more.

We began to dance. We danced for all of my ancestors. We danced for all of their souls. For all of humanity. I called in all the light of love that I could muster and drew it through my body and spread it through the wounds of the world. It was powerful and it was luminous. That which was dark began to glow. That which was grey broke into light. Colour began to flow through the pathways of my ansetory. Light began to run luminous through my veins and beyond. Through this dance we danced, the world began to wake to the love that it is.

Angel Awakening - Pippa-la Doube. Digital art imaging.

Angel Awakening - Pippa-la Doube. Digital art imaging.

I noticed then that the stumps on my back were warm and glowing. It was uncomfortable, painful even as blood began to flow toward them and they began to wake and grow. Fledgling, at first, spindly fibres began to break the surface. It was inflamed and hurt. I welcomed the growth, my whole system knew this was necessary. I screamed as I danced, for centuries of suppression, for centuries of oppression. I screamed for the expression of it all. All the pain, all the numbing, all the squashed souls came screaming out through me. I became wild, a Wild Animal Angel, growing her wings back. Beautiful in her wildness. Stunning in her raw roar. The wings as they grew were ugly and scraggly and the more I danced it through me, the more they seemed to receive wild life force flowing through them. They needed to expression of it ALL to be acknowledged for them to grow back. I was wild in this dance, calling through the screams and the hearts of all who had been oppressed by this strong force and had their wings and hearts destroyed. Soon the spindly fibres of my wings had grown to full size and I collapsed - heaving, spent - and the dance turned into a soft loving motion.

My wings now full in size, but sparse in nourishment, needed a delicate loving presence to grow into their full plumage. I began to dance slowly, sweetly, preening gently, loving myself, holding myself. I called in the purest channel of love into my body, through my soul and began to dance her. Compassionate, loving, divine. I preened my fledgling wings, stroking them, calling them into fullness. I watched the feathers become thicker with every gesture of kindness. I watched them grow full and strong. Beautiful. Luminous. And strong. I watched my wings, the wings of my ancestry, begin to dance themselves, as they found movement again. As they found their own unique expression. And we danced together, luminous and free.  Wings spread full and hearts wide open. The vibration of love pulsing through our bodies to touch the world as our dance moved to the rhythm of the earth. This is true beauty. This is true love.

I thank my dad and my grandpa for showing me this journey, as now, everything about humanities history makes more sense. I can now see where the struggling souls came from and can see that we are the ones who can shift this paradigm. We are the ones to bring back the light. We are the ones to connect us all again into love. Our shining hearts can change the world as we dance to the rhythm of our unique and beautiful souls.