”This is a time that is not a time
In a place that is not a place
On a day that is not a day,
Between the worlds, and beyond….
Once upon a time there was a young girl sitting on the shoreline at dusk. She had been sent there by her mother, in search of a vision.
“Your blood has been poured.”, she had told her. “You are ready for your vision quest. Go to the river, purify yourself in its water, light a fire and wait for the sunset. Ask Mother Earth and Aunt Moon for a guide.”
The young girl was now there, sitting by a crackling fire on the shoreline at dusk, waiting for a sign.
A soft crack from the woods behind her shoulders. The young girl turned, frightened, her eyes wide open in the dim light, her heart pounding loud in her ears.
A crooked figure appeared from the dark trees: an old wrinkled woman wearing a black cloak and walking slowly towards the river. Her eyes were flaming, her left hand clenched to a big knotty stick.
The young girl was paralyzed by fear but, as the crone approached, she began to feel an aura of peace and wisdom emanating from her.
“Welcome to the Threshold, dear niece.”, the old woman said, fixing her burning eyes into hers. “I have listened to your prayer in this place that is not a place, in a time that is not a time. Are you ready to enter the Place Between the Worlds?”.
“I am ready.”, the young girl answered in a soft voice. She felt numb and sleepy but in a comfortable way. She went back to the fire and sat down. The old crone sat in front of her, and observed her for a long time.
Finally, she spoke: “You have been chosen among hundreds as Custodian of the Words.”. “Every seventh night of each week you will come to this same place and listen to the words of Grandma Crone. You will be allowed to tell those stories to the world, but be aware! Those same words might cause you suffering and solitude, because many people won’t be ready to understand them. I ask you again: are you ready to cross the Threshold Between the Worlds?”.
“I am ready.”, the young girl answered, in a more resolute voice, her eyes glimmering in expectation.
“Good.”, Grandma Crone replied. “Listen to my words, dear niece. Once upon a time there was a young girl sitting on the shoreline at dusk. She had been sent there by her mother, in search of a vision. <<Your blood has been poured.>>, she had told her. <<You are ready for your vision quest. Go to the river, purify yourself in its water, light a fire and wait for the sunset. Ask Mother Earth and Aunt Moon for a guide.>>…