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Writer's pictureCaroline Georgiou

heart murmurs

earth, ear, tear, heat, art, rate.


My deep immersion with innerdance consciousness continues to delight and surprise me. These last months, my process mirrors a metaphorical echocardigram, revealing the shape and sounds of my heart's knowing. Supported by the loving vibrational essence of rose and blue lotus, the petals of my heart are quietly unfolding before me in my waking and day dreaming, stirring electrical currency within my hippocampus as long-held, long neglected memories come to light.


A few weeks ago during an innerdance, the image of my abuser appears. Before innerdance, I had recurrent nightmares for over 20 years and now, I yield to the wisdom of the dream dimension, no longer running away from these images, instead turning towards them and supporting their alchemy and resolution. With this philosophy, I choose to stay open-hearted to his emergence within my waking dream. I see I have a gun in my hand and I point it towards him. Part of me wants to kill him. My heart whispers to me that he is my mirror and to kill him would be to kill myself. He evaporates before me as I turn the gun towards myself and put it in my mouth. I begin to cough and choke with the stuck energy in my throat. I realise I don't need to murder myself, I need to have deep compassion and forgiveness for that young girl.


The soundscape continues to unfold and the James Bond movie song Skyfall comes on. My internal movie projector illuminates the silhouette of dancing women with their guns and as I realise I am the silhouette, the gun transforms into a rose. My need for love which had been weaponised by others, by myself, purifies. No longer do I need to harm or sacrifice myself for love.


When I was a little girl, my swing was sacred to me (I still go to the swings). I imagine soaring on a broomstick, flying around the world, returning to Greece and to other dimensions. I would spend hours every day in this waking dream state. My swing was in my Gran's garden (I used to live with her), and the shape and design of the garden meant you had to cross a threshold to arrive at the swing. From the age of 3, I could feel the potency of this portal. Taking that step marked a crossing where my body vibrated as energy sparked and flowed through me. This was my space, supported by an unspoken agreement between Gran and I that no-one should enter this temple space but me.


As I muse and mull over these precious memories, I remember the glorious roses which surrounded my swing. They spread around the fence, creating a container to my side and behind me, they shaped a rose line, signalling and announcing the sanctitiy of this energy field. As I consciously constellate these details for the first time, I wonder if my Gran knew more about the signficance of rose than she let on? Was this her secret witchy way of supporting my witchery? My heart enjoys this thought which resonates with a whisper of truth. I thank my Gran and I wish we could have loved each other with more ease in this lifetime.


Two nights ago, I hold space for deep blue innerdance and the theme of heart healing emerges from the murky depths of our collective waters with messages of allowing the heart to transform into the blue lotus. I am deeply moved and the waters within me stir and tear. Arriving home, I see a heron by the river's edge. This wouldn't be unusual if it were daytime and slightly further away from our block of flats.  Gulls are swooping and screeching in the sky above us.  Heron's feathers look distressed and he shifts between going so small to try to lengthen his neck and defend himself from their attack.


Heron allows me to come close so I can stand guard and keep the gulls at a distance.  I am rooted to my sentry post as Heron is one of my spirit companions.  I speak with him, reassuring him of my loving intentions.  I call the RSPB but they are closed until morning; I call the police but heron is not a protected species(!?), I call a vet and they would need me to bring Heron to them, which feels beyond what was possible and safe for him. 


With a heavy heart and deep reluctance, I know I have to leave Heron for the night.  I say my farewell and reconnect with trust in Heron's wild, intelligent instinct.  Heron knows more than I do about these situations.  I wake up early and go down to check on him so I can make necessary phone calls but there is no sign of him. I scan the area - what am I looking for?  signs of life? signs of death? yet there is nothing, as if it had been a dream. 


I sit with the not knowing, with the possibility that Heron was waiting for the right moment to fly away, that he found freedom in life or death.  I do know that although Heron is not physically present, I feel him in my heart and I wonder if it is because part of me is refusing to release and allow him to fly away from me?  I feel called to draw him as a way to honour our exchange and his divine beauty, bringing in hues of blue as he feels connected to deep blue and blue lotus in some way.


I am curious about the symbolism of Heron and my 'research' shows that he is important in both Greek and Egyptian mythology. Heron is associated with Athena, Zeus's loyal daughter, and is revered as God's messenger. In Egypt, the God Bennu was a red and gold heron who created light, whose call heralded creation. Spiritual meanings include learning how to be in flow with nature and becoming comfortable with mystery and not knowing.


My heart pulses in gratitude for [my] heron teacher; I consider my grief for my Dad and the synchronicity that in our current 24 hour world, there were no human services available to intervene in matters of nature. The grip around my heart softens and my wings unfurl into their full span. We are both free.


Our olfactory cortex is located close to the hippocampus and it is the only system which is not filtered and interpreted by the brain; I know that at a molecular level, working with rose and blue lotus essence in innerdance is creating new pathways and memories rooted in the gnosis of the heart. Just as the rocks and stones on the beach are smoothed and polished by the sea, my sharp edges are softening from the trickle and stream of wisdom flowing through me.


I have been in a death process for over a year and just as I had washed up on the shore, thinking I had found solid ground, that I had found myself, the ocean of innerdance consciousness is carrying me back into the dark depths, clearing away stories, identity and illusion. Heron's presence is a call to me to have deep trust and patience with myself, to find comfort in not knowing whilst also knowing that my wild, loving nature shall always prevail in the most gentle, effortless and sage ways...My heart murmurs in agreement.







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