Stories from the Well of Memory
Personal accounts from Journeying sessions with Julia
‘I wake up every day thinking is this me? Is this a dream? Thinking that I will wake up and it didn’t happen and I will go back to before. I tap and feel my body every day. I feel like I have been in a box locked up for years and now I am free and let out, like a new life, a new start. I am still in shock of it all and can’t believe how I feel. It’s like I am back.’
Laura
Historic & Archaic Vows:
vow of chastity –
Can create relationship difficulties & belief that we must choose either a vocation or a relationships, that we cannot have both.
vow of obedience –
Can cause a block to using your personal power in this life
vow of silence –
Can cause blocks to creative and individual expression as well as blocks to passing on wisdom and teachings in this life
vow of poverty –
Can carry a feeling of deep guilt in relation to creating financial security in this life, not able to trust the natural cycles of life
warrior’s oath or death before dishonour –
Can be linked to memories of being a warrior or soldier in the past, creating unhappy relationships or work that is deeply unfulfilling or dangerous to wellbeing
healer’s oath –
Memory of this oath can create issues with accepting proper payment for work and services as well as a belief that a healer must see every person who comes to their door, regardless of treatment. The pattern created can be of being so ‘of service’ that it leads to exhaustion and the healer not taking care of themselves.
Personal Stories
Releasing the Vow to Hide
Here is Robyn's recollection of her ancestral story of a Vow to Hide - to not let anyone know who she truly was. This fear of persecution can be one of the strongest ties that bind us and stop us from stepping into a spiritual path again in the present. I hope that in the telling of Robyn's own story, it helps anyone who is also feeling this same fear. I hope it helps you to feel that you are not alone and that it is safe to come out of the shadows to live fully.
As I looked into the well I became a seven year old girl with long sandy brown hair in braids. All around was forest. Beautiful majestic trees that were as high as the sky. I was met by a lady, but could only see her curly, dark auburn red hair. She was wearing an emerald green cloak made of raw silk. It was stunning and shiny. I couldn't see her face through the shadow of the hood. I felt we were mother and child. She beckoned me to follow her and seemed very excited to show me something. We were skipping and running with such excitement and freedom through the forest.
We came to a clearing in the trees where there were some people in a circle surrounding a fire. They were pagans, all holding hands chanting blessings to the earth. I could see their shapes in white with no defining marks. The only defining vision was a giant rabbit joined in amongst the people, my mother and myself. We joined the circle and began to become one with earth and all the people. We prayed for healing of the world, for peace, for the sick, for all in need. We were healers, shamans and in an age where this belief could have you branded and killed as a witch.
Suddenly there were screams and men attacking us with sticks, breaking up the circle and beating anyone they could catch. As we fled into the forest they grabbed my mother. They pulled us apart, our arms stretched out for one last chance of touch. I watched as my mother was carried away screaming and kicking holding her arms out to me. I was crying out for her with no hope. I had to hide until it was safe to emerge. As I looked up, a hand reached out for me. It was a man who had come to help. He took me to a secret place where we were allowed to be free and safe. We all lived together in harmony with nature and continued to heal. They taught me the ways of nature and how to use the powers that I possessed.
I grew into a tall, stunning looking woman that walked tall and proud hiding my deep secrets. I was a healer with such powers that I could heal with a single smile or glance. I had my secret kept deep within, not sharing through fear of being killed. I healed from afar. I was living in a Scandinavian town on the edge of the forest. Nobody knew who I was, but I had respect.
When it was time to see my binding I felt a huge rope coil around my entire body much like a snake would strangle their prey. I was bound with this rope with a giant knot in my mouth. The knot represented how I swore to never discuss my secret within. Never to let anyone know I am a healer. Then my mother was reunited with me to show me I was safe. As she put out her arms for me, a feeling of love and peace shot through my entire body. Then my ropes were cut and they fell to the ground. The young girl was free to talk her truth. No more silence, no more fear, I too am free.
After my blessing the Swan circled above with the sun behind her. She came low enough to pick me up and carry me away. I embraced her with gratitude for allowing me to take this journey. I felt safe with her as she flew through the perfect sky, then spiraled down and around to land in the dam paddock of my home. A home I can now appreciate and feel settled and safe in from this day forward.
What an amazing experience. The most interesting journey I have ever done. The emotion that was experienced was so intense inside my heart, but was finally put at peace through this magical healing. Having picked tarot cards Julia described exactly where I was in my heart. I was feeling trapped with my strong spiritual belief having to remain a secret, through fear of being persecuted, criticized and judged. At the end of the day, my choice to be who I am truly within my heart was being ignored, leaving me untrue to myself and my life as who I am today.
I believe more and more in past lives and at times have had some amazing things happen to convince me even more again. I have always had a yearning to be in India. It was a place where one of my many spiritual steps were taken and where I have always felt at home and allowed to embrace spirituality. I have always felt a strong connection to India through family history, past and present, but also in the heart. In India, people show you respect for your strong belief. Monks, nuns and Holy men are looked up to and never persecuted. My past lives as a holy being were many and I was loved and respected for who I was. This was making it hard to settle in my own home, a paradise surrounded by nature. A place that people come to enjoy and relax. But for me, no, India felt like home. For a while now I had the feeling that my beliefs and abilities should be kept secret, as judgements and criticisms I have had to face from opening my heart to people have felt so unfair. I am not cuckoo or going to hell, I am an amazing being with a lot to share. Life is good!
So a couple of days pass. I start to see visions of my past again. This time, I recognize my mother. She isn't my maternal mother from this life as I originally thought, she is Judy, healer I bump into on occasion. In my Scandinavian life, Judy is my mother. Judy is also the healer that helped me on a few occasions. She turns up at the right time. A lovely lady I have always felt like I should get to know better, but has never had the chance. First thing the next morning After this visit to Melbourne my family all went to our chiropractor for our regular adjustment. We hadn’t seen a single soul in town before entering the clinic. Guess who were the patients before us, Judy and her husband Jack. I hadn't seen them for over 18 months and now I feel its time to get to know them better.
Thank you Julia for helping me find peace. Look forward to another magical experience with you. Robyn,
Retrieval of the Dreamer by Lucy Pierce
This morning I received a poem written by artist, Lucy Pierce after her experience journeying with me to the Well of Memory. I’m always honoured to assist artists and musicians to clear past memories binding free self-expression.
Retrieval
Like an unsung song I have always known,
I have experienced myself to be riddled
with incomplete spaces
and unlived places within.
As though essential clues were still buried,
deep inside the body,
indecipherable codes and locks and holds,
camouflaged and obscure,
deflecting light and attention and love.
And now like an awakened crusade,
I have mounted my stead and bare-breasted I ride,
powerful and fierce and exquisitely soft inside,
into the darkness of my history,
back through the gateways
of my deaths and my births,
eyes piercing the shadows,
anchored within the womb,
my vigilant sentry,
ancient seer, awakened.
The rhythmic stride of my mount unrelenting,
senses strained to their full,
I am retrieving myself piece by piece,
unbinding the vows of my past,
reclaiming the power held captive
beyond the reach of my memory.
I am calling her home to me
She who carries her medicine,
She who hungers to be seen,
She who knows the heart-seed of her purpose,
the unfolding mystery of being home
in the throne-room of her soul.
From between the plump, sticky folds of my motherhood,
my Huntress awakens,
sleek and honed
and dark as the night.
She is retrieving the Dreamer
to the heart of life,
searching for She who sees the vision
and holds within her,
clear and true and easefull
the capacity to respond.
The heavy compass of authority
swinging from the outer to within.
It is time and there is no other path
but this focused reclamation of myself ,
of my vision, my purpose,
my dream, my response,
my authority,
my love.
Lucy Pierce
Story - Magic Unbound
Here is an account written by Kelly about how she retrieved the gift of her own ancestral wisdom from the well of memory.
She came to me my familiar stranger and shared with me her emotions and memories. Her feelings reflected my own. The heavy ones that had lived so deeply within me for as long I could remember. I had taken them to be mine. I had taken them to be of this life, but they where not. They were the blonde haired girl's all along, and she was I. But that life has gone. She had lost her freedom to be herself when all her love was taken from her. This blonde haired girl had lived on the land amongst the natural people. These folk lived in small homes with lavish gardens and roaming wild life. Most of her days were spent running with the deer.
When I first encountered her she was outside with the women from the house chanting and sharing stories. I was drawn to her immediately. The youngest of the group, no more thirteen years. The wide-eyed, golden haired girl soaking up the lesson being offered by the wise women - with an awe of excitement. This place was special, the Faerie played there. Together they worshipped the land healing plant, animal, and human alike. People travelled far to see the natural people and be healed from both mental and physical ailments. No payment was exchanged. The risk of travel was enough and to arrive by the cover of night was they only request of the healers.
One night in a blink of an eye the blonde haired girl's life was turned to ash. By the men in black who travel the countryside, defusing the light in people’s hearts. On this night only one survived. The young girl was taken by the men and placed in a cold blue-stoned cell and robed in black. They tried to force her to use her abilities to heal their wounded men. Though she refused with conviction. As she laid in the darkness she bound her light and shielded her love, she would not share the magic of the land with those who were only out to destroy it.
Her magic was strong and her internal binding became physical. She herself was bound in rope by the men in black and left in the darkness - left to fade. Her sadness was deep, her conviction was strong and her intentions where true and clear. I could feel it. I had felt it before. I'd felt the bound girl inside, often a dull aching I could not quite place. While connecting to this feeling I was transported to my sacred space. The space that I enter upon meditation and out of the water she emerged, that I of the past. She was now free I had become the one bound. Our eyes met, two of the same, she untied me from the rope she had once been bound in, and then she smiled.
And with that smile she whispered –
‘Thank you for coming back for me., now we are both free and in your world you don’t have to hide, you can dance under the moonlight without fear, you can use your magic, release our light and show others the way to theirs. Always remember the Faerie as they are still with you’.
Thank you Julia, I have experienced so much healing from releasing this vow. I also feel that part of my soul experience has now become open to me within this life. You have shared a truly amazing gift, the gift of remembering who we are and all we can be, Kelly.
Emily's Swan Story - Awakening the Black Serpent
Emily's Well Story is one of great darkness and beauty and that is the gift of the shadow work with the Swan - she can take you safely into what feels like the darkest cave of memory to discover that this place, when named and reclaimed, is filled with gold. I believe the Dark Mother holds our treasures, gifts and wise medicine for us in the lifetimes where we feel we have had to bind it or forget it until we feel strong enough to return and reclaim our gifts again.
Dear Julia,
It’s taken me a full cycle to begin to discover the power that was unbound by your sessions at the Festival (I came to both the Friday afternoon and Sunday morning). I am so grateful to you for the gifts you shared and what has been awakened in me.
I was quite frightened and disturbed by my past self and by my animal guide. She was angry and vengeful…her black eyes spitting vicious spite at me. She looked proud and Roman...somewhere dusty and crowded. She had cut out her own tongue to bind her magic and power, to punish and prevent herself from practicing evil. I felt this as barbed wire around my throat and heart.
The first unbinding came from my animal guide…it emerged from the darkness as a huge black serpent, terrifyingly beautiful and powerful, with glowing red eyes and glistening black scales. I shook with fear as it rushed towards me, towards the barbed wire. It wound its strong body around my legs, up around my hips and chest and somehow just melted the barbed wire away.
The second unbinding came from the crone…she handed me a black stone knife and I knew it was the same knife She had used to cut out her tongue. I thrust it into the pool, shattering its surface into light. WE ARE FREE. Her power is my power. My healing light is her healing light. I am free to choose to speak the truth, to never speak evil. It is my choice and my power to wield.
The black serpent was there to guide me, to travel with me on my journey. It sinuously slid away and I ran after it, rushed through the darkness. We easily merged into one and travelled through the dark, unafraid. We are power, energy, in direct connection with the earth. We wrap the ones we love with our whole body and strength, entwined with love, hearts beating together in the darkness. We shed many skins. We never act in anger, spite or evil. We are protective. We are guardians of light and truth.
This freedom and power has awakened many of my old dreams and childhood memories and activated the way to move forward and create new dreams, new ways of working and healing people's bodies and souls - not just with my hands (as an osteopath) but with colour, collage, art and movement. Using my heart and my voice that have both been silent for too long!
EMILY
The Black Serpent
I am one who is powerful, strong, terrifying. I have been hidden in you for a long time. I am waking up inside you.
I give you your power. Don’t be afraid. Destructive energy comes hand in hand with creative energy. You need me to create/birth the New.
I want you to stand in your own power, to be strong and unafraid, to speak up for yourself, to speak your truth.
Remember that you can shed your skin like a snake. There are infinite layers and ways of being. No need to feel stuck. Call on me to help shed your skin, to be more your True Self.
Fear of Persecution - A Witch's Memory
I was in a small cottage in the woods, surrounded by small children , an elderly lady was crying as I kissed them goodbye. I knew they were coming for me. I knew I was a wise woman and they feared me. I actually felt at peace. I told the elderly woman it would be alright. I was quite young with beautiful long hair.
My next thought was to get away from cottage as I could see the torches in the distance. I started running through the woods. They caught me about 500 meters from my cottage. My thought then was are my family are safe as I looked back towards the cottage? They had me on my knees with my head pulled back by my hair. I was surrounded by men and could feel the fear in their heart. I was taken under the cover of darkness. It was a lynch mob. A powerful man with the authority was behind the scenes. Orchestrating the outcome. I felt he was scared of my inner power.
The very next thing I saw was a vision of her standing on a pyre. It quite surreal as I stepped out as myself from the future to see my past self on the pyre. I could see a sea of what looked like Pilgrim hats, and a town square. She was searching frantically for someone or something in the faces before her; she knew this was going to happen. There was no hatred in her body, only sadness and compassion, for the people doing this to her. I watched as the tears streamed down my face. I stepped forward and her eyes locked onto to mine. She smiled at me and said with her eyes: ah good you are here! I have been waiting.
My soul felt like it exploded in to a million pieces, it was such a deep and profound connection. Her words to me were: You are free, Have no fear. They cannot come for you in this lifetime. Your family are safe. Be true to your soul and path. With that she closed her eyes and tilted her head skywards. And whispered 'I am ready” to the Heavens. As they lit the pyre. I saw a bright white light come down from above. She was enfolded by light and I could see two beings beside her. The flames had only reached her feet. But she was already free.
Julia I thank you for releasing my fear/binding, in this life. I hadn’t realised that this fear of judgement and persecution had been holding me back. Also my intense dislike of authority makes sense. My past self had no fear; No anger, she accepted it, in perilous times of who she was. Her message to me was the gift of Freedom, acceptance and walking the path of self truth.
No more Hiding.
With Love, Bec
The Vow of Silence
"When I peered into the water to see who was looking back at me, there were two faces staring up, two men. One was an ancient man, so old and thin his bones poked through his skin. The other was a young man, native American, he was very beautiful and so, so sad. I went with the old man first. We were walking through an ancient village, rough dwellings made of stone and cave like shelters. No one looked at him, he was an outcast.
I walked with him, as him, I felt his incredible knowledge, and I felt how he received it, he was a channel for universal wisdom, and no one would hear him, ever.We went back to his childhood, he was around 13 years old. The son of the village leader, he was the next in line, the promised one.
His father was a cruel leader, his mother was beaten and tortured, he knew it was wrong and promised he would never be like his father. He spoke out against his father and his ways, speaking the wisdom he received. He was rejected by his father, his family and the whole community followed, he became the outcast, wandering alone.We went to the water and Brigid gave me a wand to cut through the thick smoke that bound me in this promise. I saw him released and floating free, and I felt that he had always had peace in his heart with the vow he made, he knew it was right, the whisperings of the universe had reminded him of this through his long and lonely life.
Back at the water the young man waited for me. We went to his home, he was the leader of the tribe, a warrior that had a deep connection to spirit, he listened to his guides and heard what he needed to do and spoke this to his people. There was an ongoing battle with another tribe and he had a plan in how to triumph over the enemy. He spoke this to his brothers and they left to fight together.He was shocked and horrified when his brothers turned against him and attacked him, shooting arrows, not to kill him, but maim him terribly. He could not fight anymore, he could not lead anymore, he was useless and crippled. He vowed to never speak again. I saw him live a very sad, lonely life, helpless and defeated. We returned to Brigid, and this time she handed me a mallet to smash my way out of this stone vow I was imprisoned in. He floated up and away, released from pain and suffering.
I cried with relief to see him set free. These vows were so ancient, so many lifetimes ago, yet so familiar to me. I felt those vows within me even, though those lives were so alien and surprising. I have lived by these vows to some extent my whole life, in place I know to protect me from these things ever happening again. But now, with these promises lifted, I am free to trust my knowing, the intuition I have always heard, the messages I receive, and speak of them freely. To live by my new vow...
I will be beauty and give of this beauty."
Talulah.
The Enchantress Reclaimed
Lucille reflects on the journey of the Enchantress Witch that she met at the Well of Memory.
“My soul has memories. They have grown over the years. Burnings, vivid recall. Knowings of persecution, fear, judgement and hate. Triggered by images in movies, words of others, people and their looks of scorn. The word Bitch and the word Witch, only one letter separates them. I have oscillated between empowerment, true intuition and denial, depression and self loathing. Why am I this way? Why can I feel what you feel, even when I don’t want to? Why can I sense what you are thinking, even when I don’t care to?
My Magic is movement, the beauty of my body. The form and the soft caress of my sway. I entice, inspire and engage the senses. I hypnotise you with my hips. My way is truly feminine, my undulations without shame. We dance, we love and we birth, all from the centre of our hips, the seat of our power, the lips of love. The gateway of desire, passion, life and power.
Once a blessing, often a curse. They way of the enchantress Witch has been a hard way, our power when suppressed and denied, turns dark. It turns ugly and seeps out, from under the door like an angry thick fog. Black magic, Sorcery. Hate is powerful, my emotions have caused great pain, unto others but most of all unto myself.
The way of love and light is easy. The way out of the murk, the quick sand that threatens to eat you up is swift and painless. Those who judge me I now hold a mirror to, those who hate me, I now feel compassion for. Those who don’t want to know what I truly live for, can’t see my passion, desire and need for Magic, I let them go. Those that come to me for healing, that feel called to be released from the shame of their bodies, from deep sensual wounds that have been carried for generations, I say come. Let me hold you, let me heal you, let me see you for the beauty and goodness that you truly are. Divine, Wonderous, Damp and Sexy. Woman.
Trust your body! You’ll know when its right, because your Pussy will tinkle with delight. She will bubble up when the flow is perfect, when you intuition says fly. Use her wisdom everyday, in everyway.
Let’s take our power back, let’s turn the words around.
Now I say, I’m Bitchin, when I’m Witchin.
Kylie’s Story - Vows of Chastity and Silence
Kylie’s story is the return of the shameless feminine, the unveiled beauty, the beautiful wild girl. Kylie sees how her free-spirited nature was bound by vows of Chastity and Silence after being forced to take vows in the past as a nun. For Kylie the greatest binding of all was her spirit's agreement to be resigned to this life, to not expect anything more. As a nun, she learnt to develop a deep and rich inner world to deal with her circumstances. In releasing herself from her vows, Kylie learnt that this rich inner world could also be her experience of the outer world too.
Undergoing the Swan Lore session was both a simple and natural thing to do. I had had an immensely emotional week, I worried whether I really wanted to “go there”, to have to delve into my issues and problems. To be honest I had no idea what I was walking into. I had already booked this time with Julia and didn’t want to cancel, I trusted the simplest yet sometimes the most challenging belief I have, which is to believe everything is happening as it should. I have also worked with Tony and Julia for years and have always found their energy to be soothing, and working with them has only led me to feelings of calm and healing.
There is no major moment or dramatic entry into my past life, there is simply a direction to look and see. It’s like watching a movie, it’s so simple. Julia guided me to look into the Well and take me to the person I once was, for me to meet the person who once made a vow so strong and so sacred that it was still driving me to this very day.
She was young and beautiful and she knew the power of her looks, a graceful maiden growing up in London from a relatively well to do family. She was always a loner, always dreaming by the docks, her favourite place to be. She loved to watch the ships come in, see the men and dream of the places they would go and admire their swarthy looks from afar. What were they speaking of, their voices carrying on the wind with the dialects and words of foreign places. She could never get too close though, her position demanded distance, as it seemed to demand distance for her from most of the world around her. Her virtue was her most valuable asset and the architecture of her life was such that it would not be compromised.
As we entered the meditation and I approached the Well, before I had met her, before I was taken to the docks of her youth, I was guided by a beautiful maiden of Avalon. She had taken me to the well and Avalon was where i felt my journey was to be. As I was guided to turn my eyes and look to the well, I excitedly anticipated to see myself as a beautiful maiden of Avalon, amongst my sisters, in no way was i prepared for who I saw myself to be. A nun, a very old nun with rheumy blue eyes, eyes that spoke whilst lips did not move. She looked at me and spoke a thousand words through her eyes but never once moved her lips. She was silent, forever silent, she had vowed silence and had lived it so long she no longer knew any different.
She took me through the streets of an old Medieval English town to a small church at the end of a street in an area of much poverty, grime and sickness. She showed me her church and the Friar who worked with her, her eyes told me she had found acceptance of her life, that she regarded both herself and her life as unremarkable, as no one to be known or remembered, and probably no one who would be remembered, simply a servant of the church with a vow of silence. As I connected to her I felt so little emotionally, I felt a shell of a person who was neither happy nor sad but merely existing. Her mind was quiet, there was nothing left to say to herself after all this time.
As we delved deeper and I tried to find a connection in her, a fire, a passion, we journeyed to the day she made her vows. She knew she was still so beautiful in her nun’s gowns, she stood tall and proud, her rosary beads hanging around her slim waist and still knew of her power. She knew why she was here today and she owned the actions that had made her family send her here. She felt no regret, the docks had called and she had answered, and whilst she chose not to share with me the details of her encounter there, still her own personal haven, her own sacred memory, it was enough to ensure she be banished from her family to serve out her days in the church undergoing a vow of silence that was to last her a lifetime. Not only was she to serve here for her shameful actions she was to be silenced so she could never shame her family with the true reasons for her vocation, with her true self. She simply held that silence with a knowing look, she had experienced a taste of freedom that she knew her life would never have afforded her, and she would pay the price for the rest of her life.
We looked at each other in the mirror, my blue eyes matching hers, this time I looked at her with love and together we tenderly removed the stiches from her mouth. I sent her all the love I had, let her know she was someone, she was so remarkable and her life had made a difference. She granted me the gift of her incredible strength and her still mind, something I have never been able to achieve and something i needed so badly at this time in my life. My own mind had been screaming at me, tormenting me on things I had to deal with, she helped me to move through. Her life of silence, her life of servitude and anonymity just set me free or did i just set her free with my gifts of love, acceptance and acknowledgement of her greatness and incredible strength, for that moment we became one and we were both free.
As now, weeks later I now revisit this moment of unity, it is like we both spiralled to become one person. She craved freedom and found it in her mind, she was a dreamer and so too am I. She lived her glory in her mind, she vowed to keep her strength and her uniqueness to herself, she had no other frame of reference to live by, there was no other choice she knew of and I realised I had been living the same. What I have realised is, I don’t need to.
I have choices, choices she could not even imagine yet have still had been living bound to my own mind, still living as if I had no choice. For all my life I have taken my gifts and tried to bury them from view where I can live safely with them and not challenge the status quo of my world and the people in it. The fear I experience at times to bring myself forth are just irrational, a real physical sinking in the pit of the stomach and total inability to push myself to the next level on so many things, jack of all trades master of none. Never to really excel, better to be amongst the crowd. The gift of the Swan Blessing to me has been the realignment of myself to this very day. To take the gifts I have and remove the binds that have held me back. I always felt like i had reached some wall in myself that made no sense and now i realise that it didn’t make sense because it was built in another time and I could not put the pieces together, now it all just makes sense.
Kylie,
The Vow to Hide Her Wisdom
Here is Jane's memory of her journey to the Well.
I saw her, old, long scraggly hair, wrapped in tanned animal hide for protection, by the river, in the forest, alone, very alone, sad, resigned, quiet. She'd been banished from the village, or maybe she'd run away and been hiding, either way it was because she'd been found out or would have been and that meant she'd had to leave or die.
I saw her, young, she was writing furiously, long feather quill, hiding somewhere in a corner of the attic of the dwelling, in the dark, a lone taper burning. She was scared, fearful of being seen, yet she wrote and she wrote, pausing only to hear more to write.The words were coming to her from others, words she couldn't see who spoke, yet the words came and she wrote them.The Grandmother who lived in her hut in the forest had told her that the voices and their words that she heard were important and that she must write them down and give them to her. She taught her to write and read and told her to keep it a secret, not to tell anyone and to keep on doing it.On the Grandmother's death bed, she made her promise, make a vow, to never let anyone else know about the words she heard and to not let anyone see her writing, otherwise she would be killed. She wrote and wrote and the words soothed her soul. She shared them with her mother and her sisters because the words spoke of a different way, a way where they would be honoured and respected, it was so different to how it was for them.... The vow she made to the Grandmother kept her scared, scared of being seen, scared of being found out and scared of what would happen should she be discovered and the vow kept the words secret, but the words wanted to be shared and read.....
The vow she made stayed with her until another lifetime when she went to the Blacksmith's cottage and met a Witch who flew with Swan. The Witch helped her find a way to cut away the web that was the vow, that had stuck to her, that was stuck in and around and all over her. And Black Panther came then, to be with her, to protect her and guard her.
She was safe now, the vow was released and the words could come freely and be shared.
Jane Hardwick Collings
THE ARTISAN – UNBINDING CREATIVITY & SACRED PLAY
Binding of the Artisan:
Vow to never take monetary payment for their art, Vow to never let art be seen outside of sacred temples and places of magic and worship, Vow to never make sacred art again because it was abused and disrespected by invaders, Vow to never create again because it was seen as foolish or lazy, Vow to never create a sacred object because it was seen as evil.
Gifts of the Artisan:
What is one of the most important traits needed to create a new future? To believe that we have the power to create whatever the heart can conceive and that we can dream into our creations such potent magic and healing that they forever change all those who come into contact with it. That we can make everything we touch sacred. Artists are the visionaries; they are often riding the very lip of the wave of change. Creativity opens up a channel to seeing new possibilities and ways to invent.
Katy’s Story of the Artist’s Unbinding
"I didn't know what to expect from the Well of Memory session. I just had a very clear and direct inner impulse to participate. I have funny problems understanding basic societal constructs like money, so the "vow of poverty" idea really rang a bell for me. I fully expected to see in my journey (if I saw anything at all) a medieval nun, living quietly, disengaged from the world, expecting nothing, with nothing expected of her but simple labour and the contemplation of the divine.
That's not quite how it worked out. It may be that the life I expected to see is there in my secret soul, but it's certainly not the one that sprang forth and demanded my attention.
A young Native American woman came forward and took my hand. She showed me the ashes of a campfire. In the fire were the remains of a simple handmade doll. The woman with me was now a little girl, and the doll had been made by her, and thrown into the fire by her brother (who was much older, and an important person in her tribe), to teach her a lesson. I felt her child's anger and confusion, and also her brother's deep, wild, implacable rage. As I looked around, I saw that her camp, the home of her people, had been burnt to the ground by white men on horses. There was ruin and destruction everywhere, and everything of value was ash. The lesson her raging brother was teaching her by throwing her doll in the fire is that their life as they knew it was finished, that there would be nothing spare for foolishness.
The next thing I saw was the woman, no longer a child, but still young, lighting a fire.
This part of the story unravelled backwards: She was lighting a fire. She was lighting a fire at the back of a building. Oh! She's setting the building on fire. The building is a pub, in a small, still-being-constructed mountain town. She's so angry. So fucking angry. Why is she so angry? They killed her brother. Who did? The same men. They caught him and killed him, shamefully, publicly, because they were trying to build this town, and he kept attacking them and disrupting their work. So. She sets the town on fire. It burns, and her fury burns, she is utterly consumed and immobile with rage. She is arrested and imprisoned for the rest of her brief time on earth. And the burning vow of her whole life is the rageful shriek that she will never, ever submit.
She comes to me again, calm now, and shows me how I still carry this vow as big heavy rocks in my hands. Together we smash the rocks into pieces and they crumble away. She hands me her gift, and I see it's the little doll that her brother threw into the fire, now unburnt. It represents the power I have to make magical objects, and to make objects magical; to weave together disparate and inanimate things and breathe into them life and intelligence and meaning.
* * *
I'm an artist, and I've always had a very fraught relationship with money. It just doesn't make sense to me, particularly in relationship with art-making. When I make artwork, it's always something that can't really be bought or sold. It's films, or crazy installations that fall apart if you touch them, or giant inflatable whatchamacallits; for me, their very purpose is to be not-of-this-world. If they fit neatly into somebody's everyday life then they're not doing their jobs as other-worldly triggers. They're sacred objects. They don't get turned into a commodity. But then, on the other hand, when I try to figure out how to make money, it's ALWAYS some kind of making-something-that-is-most-emphatically-NOT-the-sacred-object kinda thing. And I always feel weird about it, and I'm really stingy with my attention. And it always feels unfocused and wrong, and it's always this big inner conflict, and it's always a struggle. And I sort of hate the thing I'm making. And the enterprise usually collapses and I'm secretly relieved.
At the moment I make these embroidered patches and sell them in my shop, and to other shops. They're definitely NOT art, but people like them and they sell quite well. I've been having my usual funny struggles with it; weird panics at markets, the urge to sabotage the business.
The weekend after the session with Julia, my husband and I hosted a big party in the forest, for about a hundred people. It started looking like it was going to be really big, and we didn't really know what to expect, and we were a bit nervous. We arrived a day early to set up, so in the morning before people were due to arrive, I put on the poncho I had made out of blankets, made a sign, and set out another blanket on the ground, put all my patches out on display, sat down and waited.
I suddenly felt very, very, very weird. Like all of this was incredibly familiar. I have never in my whole life experienced Deja Vu until this moment. And then, just to drive the point home, somebody wandered past and said "Wow, you look exactly like an American Indian selling crafts by the side of the road!" I couldn't even answer them, because everything was just thrumming and humming and glowing and feeling so weird. And it was just like it all fell into place. I know now why money is so uncomfortable for me, and why this is being triggered so hard at this point in my life. I think this conflict is HER conflict. Like, her inborn magic was to make sacred objects, but then her tribe's way of life got destroyed, and then, traumatised, she had to find new ways of living and fitting into the foreign currency structure that had been imposed on her, and her magic got degraded and and turned into crappy commodity-trinket-making. And that felt like submission, and that felt terrible and wrong.
***
The animal companion that was given to me by Tony before my session was the chipmunk. At first this seemed a bit incongruous; this cheeky, busy, funny, lighthearted creature didn't seem to sit comfortably with this giant vision of rage and burning that I'd just experienced. But the next day a couple of things struck me: One, that this was a creature I used to see a lot in my childhood in Colorado. (My vision absolutely and unequivocally occurred in Colorado as well. Funny.) The other thing is that this is a creature who knows how to prepare for winter, but doesn't make a big deal about it, or agonise over it; it just goes about it's cheeky life, and trusts its own ability to take care of its own business... it just follows its instincts, stuffing nuts in its chubby cheeks all summer, and then has a big pile of nuts to sleep on through the winter.Maybe the feeling I keep having in my life, that I don't understand these basic laws about how the material world works, how to make and keep money, how to connect effort with reward, things that everybody else seems to intuitively understand and be able to work with, come from being tied to this past life of chaos and desperation and imprisonment. Maybe some of the fallout in this life has been my feeling like a foreigner when it comes to these basic self-determining and self-care strategies. So maybe it's not as complicated and mysterious as I think, and if I just channel that little stripy guy, the state of Usefulness and Plenty will just happen as a natural side effect of my instinctive life, rather rather than something I try to consciously build through the force of my will."
KATY
The Healer - Well of Memory Story
I am walking barefoot through a familiar forest. I come upon the well. I look into the deep pool and see her. She is a tribal woman, with long dark hair and dark eyes. She takes my hand and we cross the threshold, I am there. It is dark, the land is barren. She dances around a fire. I see so much pain inside her. This is a dance of mourning. Her face is full of sorrow as she stomps and writhers around the fire.
She shows me her journey. I see her wondering naked on the bare earth. She is a very small child. There has been a great upheaval and her family has left her behind. She is found by a wise old woman who takes her in, raising her and teaching her wisdom. They walk the earth together. This is where she learns her medicine.
Later she is a grown woman she takes me to her village. We are in front of her mud hut with her six children. They are so beautiful. They have very little but there is so much love. She shows me her work with plants making medicine.
There has been great famine, all the people in her village have been driven away from their lands. They now live on barren land, fighting starvation and illness. Her husband has gone to a far away land to work. The women from the village cover their heads as they go to her for medicine and scurry away quickly with her brew hidden in their robes back to their huts. She is living in fear and isolation. She shows me how they come, soldiers, tearing her children out of her arms. They are taking them away, she pleads with them desperately, she vows never to use her medicine again, but they take them all away.Finally I see her lying on the bare earth, she is old and lonely, overwhelmed with grief. She lets her body go and is instantly free.
I am back in the forest at the water’s edge we are facing each other. I honour her. I understand why she made that vow. She smiles at me. She knows why we are here. It is time to let it go. We hold each other with deep love and she transforms into light she is surrounded and embraced by her family, her children, her husband, the wise old lady and her mother they are all free.I am standing before the daughter of the well bound heavily. Together we cut the bindings and instantly I feel myself expand, I am free. She takes me into her sacred well, all the daughters are there. I am floating in the sacred well. The daughters are washing away all that burdens my soul. I am cleansed, pure, light and free.
The first time I heard about the Well of Memory sessions with Julia I knew it was something that I just had to do. I put it aside for a while but it continued to call me. As a child I would give healing to sick animals, I would lay in my bed at night and send healing to people. Years later when I began to explore my own healing I became a Reiki master and it all came back to me, but I would find that every time I shared my medicine the energy would get stuck with me or my children would get sick. I could not share my medicine because I was afraid that it would harm my children.
After the session, there have been many changes. I have been able to share freely without fear, I feel as though a channel has been cleared from which I am free to connect and receive more clearly and my gift is changing, becoming more potent.
The D.J who carried Vows of Chastity & Silence
Here is the Kylie’s personal account of her journey to the Well of Memory. In it her free-spirited nature was bound by vows of Chastity and Silence after being forced to take vows as a nun. For Kylie the greatest binding of all was her spirit's agreement to be resigned to this life, to not expect anything more. As a nun, she learnt to develop a deep and rich inner world to deal with her circumstances. In releasing herself from her vows, Kylie learnt that this rich inner world could also be her experience of the outer world too.
”Undergoing the Well of Memory session was both a simple and natural thing to do. I had had an immensely emotional week, I worried whether I really wanted to “go there”, to have to delve into my issues and problems. To be honest I had no idea what I was walking into. I had already booked this time with Julia and Tony and didn’t want to cancel, I trusted the simplest yet sometimes the most challenging belief I have, which is to believe everything is happening as it should. I have also worked with Tony and Julia for years and have always found their energy to be soothing, and working with them has only led me to feelings of calm and healing.” Kylie
There is no major moment or dramatic entry into my past life, there is simply a direction to look and see. It’s like watching a movie, it’s so simple. Julia guided me to look into the Well and take me to the person I once was, for me to meet the person who once made a vow so strong and so sacred that it was still driving me to this very day.
She was young and beautiful and she knew the power of her looks, a graceful maiden growing up in London from a relatively well to do family. She was always a loner, always dreaming by the docks, her favourite place to be. She loved to watch the ships come in, see the men and dream of the places they would go and admire their swarthy looks from afar. What were they speaking of, their voices carrying on the wind with the dialects and words of foreign places. She could never get too close though, her position demanded distance, as it seemed to demand distance for her from most of the world around her. Her virtue was her most valuable asset and the architecture of her life was such that it would not be compromised.As we entered the meditation and I approached the Well, before I had met her, before I was taken to the docks of her youth, I was guided by a beautiful maiden of Avalon. She had taken me to the well and Avalon was where i felt my journey was to be. As I was guided to turn my eyes and look to the well, I excitedly anticipated to see myself as a beautiful maiden of Avalon, amongst my sisters, in no way was i prepared for who I saw myself to be. A nun, a very old nun with rheumy blue eyes, eyes that spoke whilst lips did not move. She looked at me and spoke a thousand words through her eyes but never once moved her lips. She was silent, forever silent, she had vowed silence and had lived it so long she no longer knew any different.
She took me through the streets of an old Medieval English town to a small church at the end of a street in an area of much poverty, grime and sickness. She showed me her church and the Friar who worked with her, her eyes told me she had found acceptance of her life, that she regarded both herself and her life as unremarkable, as no one to be known or remembered, and probably no one who would be remembered, simply a servant of the church with a vow of silence. As I connected to her I felt so little emotionally, I felt a shell of a person who was neither happy nor sad but merely existing. Her mind was quiet, there was nothing left to say to herself after all this time.
As we delved deeper and I tried to find a connection in her, a fire, a passion, we journeyed to the day she made her vows. She knew she was still so beautiful in her nun’s gowns, she stood tall and proud, her rosary beads hanging around her slim waist and still knew of her power. She knew why she was here today and she owned the actions that had made her family send her here.
She felt no regret, the docks had called and she had answered, and whilst she chose not to share with me the details of her encounter there, still her own personal haven, her own sacred memory, it was enough to ensure she be banished from her family to serve out her days in the church undergoing a vow of silence that was to last her a lifetime. Not only was she to serve here for her shameful actions she was to be silenced so she could never shame her family with the true reasons for her vocation, with her true self. She simply held that silence with a knowing look, she had experienced a taste of freedom that she knew her life would never have afforded her, and she would pay the price for the rest of her life.
We looked at each other in the mirror, my blue eyes matching hers, this time I looked at her with love and together we tenderly removed the stiches from her mouth. I sent her all the love I had, let her know she was someone, she was so remarkable and her life had made a difference. She granted me the gift of her incredible strength and her still mind, something I have never been able to achieve and something i needed so badly at this time in my life. My own mind had been screaming at me, tormenting me on things I had to deal with, she helped me to move through. Her life of silence, her life of servitude and anonymity just set me free or did i just set her free with my gifts of love, acceptance and acknowledgement of her greatness and incredible strength, for that moment we became one and we were both free.
As now, weeks later I now revisit this moment of unity, it is like we both spiralled to become one person. She craved freedom and found it in her mind, she was a dreamer and so too am I. She lived her glory in her mind, she vowed to keep her strength and her uniqueness to herself, she had no other frame of reference to live by, there was no other choice she knew of and I realised I had been living the same. What I have realised is, I don’t need to.I have choices, choices she could not even imagine yet have still had been living bound to my own mind, still living as if I had no choice. For all my life I have taken my gifts and tried to bury them from view where I can live safely with them and not challenge the status quo of my world and the people in it. The fear I experience at times to bring myself forth are just irrational, a real physical sinking in the pit of the stomach and total inability to push myself to the next level on so many things, jack of all trades master of none. Never to really excel, better to be amongst the crowd.
The gift of the Well of Memory session to me has been the realignment of myself to this very day. To take the gifts I have and remove the binds that have held me back. I always felt like i had reached some wall in myself that made no sense and now i realise that it didn’t make sense because it was built in another time and I could not put the pieces together, now it all just makes sense.
Kylie
Kristan’s Story of the Outcast
In her past life, Kristan belonged to a community that could not accept the powerful gift that she carried. In her community this gift was seen as taboo for woman to hold. She was asked to obey or to leave. She chose to say NO to the community so that she could say YES to her spirit.
Many of us have experienced similar stories in past lives and in our present lives. We have felt that to truly be ourselves, we must journey alone. Or we have put up with behaviour that hurts us just to stay a part of a community whether that is family, society, peers. When we release the belief that there was ever anything 'wrong' with us we remember that we are all creatures of the earth - as individual as every animal and plant and an integral part in the wheel of life.
Looking into the waters of the well, I stared and I waited and I imagined I would not see anything. And I saw nothing for what felt like such a long, long time, I was beginning to feel I would not see, that my mind was too strong to allow my soul to show me what I needed and wanted to see.
I stayed with prayer, asking and pleading at one moment to see, please let me see . . . and then the mists began to clear and I could see a clearing in the mountains, green pine all around, the smell of freshness and soil, and a tent. And horses, many horses And then I saw HER, myself in another time.By the tents, the wild life of the mountains surrounding HER Ah, she was alone, living an isolated life, no community, a sadness surrounded her. I could also sense an understanding, acceptance of her situation as the best possible outcome for her at that time and place. We saw each other, she smiled. I could see her deer skin clothing, her long, braids of dark black hair I could feel her and I felt a relief that we had met, that the veils had parted and that we could meet I began to track why she was alone in the woods. Her only communication was with the forest life: the birds, woodland creatures, trees, the natural world who heard her and loved her
A new vision appeared. I found myself within a tribe. My father was the head of the community, I could see my mother and more children, my siblings, sitting . My father asked me again if I would do what was expected of me.
And again, the 12 year old her (me) said NO.
I would not.
I was banished from my community
For being who I was For speaking who I was For saying NO to what was not true for me I caught the eye of my mother and she caught mine sadness but understanding i saw there
and in my father too, not as cheif, but as my father a sadness and again an understanding.
And away she went, alone, to live a life of isolation, to be herself
Again, I find myself back at her dwelling. This time we connect, we stand in a pool of water, a water fall, falling behind us The vines from below come up, writhing and cover her, strangle her, snake like she is bound I connect with her, I cut with my teeth the binding reedy vines I free her. She smiles at me, she becomes a light and as a shooting star Returns.
The wounding:
I will be rejected, cast out, banished from my community if I am myself, authentic and truth speaking, if I say NO to what does not feel right I release this binding, this wounding as I bite and free the vines of that lifetime
The blessing:
I am authentic, true and free, I express myself fully, I am accepted, loved and cherished by my community.