(Woo-envelope alert! You have been warned… )
In this work I’m doing with the ‘Havinator’ to biggify my thing and generally have people know that it’s happening, most of the work has been on the inside of me. No great surprises there, it’s where the stuckness hangs out and the best place to go with my can of de-stuckifyer.
One of the first places we explored together was the Money Cave.
Weehee… loved it! It’s so purty in there, and sparkly, and fun, and boundless, and full of surprises, of the nice kind. Havi had me play with strands which were hanging down like vines in thick curtains. They’re there every time I go back (not quite as often as optimal, but it’s becoming a kitchen-sink/red-traffic-light retreat spot as quickly as I can build the neural pathways to make it a habit).
Pulling the strands in, like coiling a long rope, got kinda boring kinda fast… they seemed to be endless… but they intrigued me all the same. And each time I revisit the cave, they reveal neat new elements to their make-up. At the top of each strand (yeah, I did eventually reach the top, or the top reached me…) is a money moth.
Huh? Money Moth??
Uhuh?! Sure thing… They’re waiting to be sent off, or released, to work on the invisible stuff I can’t see, but that needs to be done. They’re moths because butterflies can’t see in the dark, of course.
Each of the projects and little-baby-things-that-want-biggifying has a strand and a moth, at least one. And until I connect with that strand (think Tree of Souls) they remain attached to it and unable to do their working-on-the-invisible-stuff-I-can’t-see.
A few weeks back, some little voice or mothy whisper in my head told me that a couple of them were hanging out for some of my attention, so I headed over to the cave (treading another round of new neural-pathway making) to see what was up…
The first strand that drew my attention released a little moth to complete a kind-of-mundane-but-essential task and close a little financial loop in my day-to-day. Gracias mariposa! It was as I stretched out my hand again, and made contact with the second strand that things began to get significantly more interesting…
Lung gompa moth…
The strand took on a life of its own, like a luminous thread of metaphoric dna it began to pulse and flow with light-life… waves were undulating along it and carrying me on a surge higher and higher. The thread itself contained spiral flows in both directions, information in the form of light…
At the end of this wonderful ride of life-force and creative inspiration, inevitably, there was a moth… but she was small, and still … not at all what I might have expected, if I’d had time to get into any expectations. There was something of a sadness around her which turned out to be because she’d been waiting… waiting… waiting, for me, for eons… or so she said.
The thing was though, that she was entirely meant to wait. Because as it happens, she’s a Lung gompa money moth (?!)… so the waiting’s built-in. Lung gompa’s train by waiting, building their super powers, refining their skill-sets, until the day when they are released and they set-off at speed across the vast Tibetan landscape, running with feet barely touching the ground and without stopping until they reach their destination, sometimes days later.
Before she set off, she let me know that her mission is to find and activate magical opportunities that result in windfalls-large-or-small for ‘a rainy day’. No kidding. Wow… now all I needed to know was the how-to on my end of the receiving of windfalls.
Receiving windfalls for a ‘rainy day’…
… is simple really. Just a matter of keeping an eye open for postcards she’d be sending along the way. Little messages and opportunities to tap in to the abundant flow, man!
Ooookaaaayyy… I think I can do that…I said to the gently falling cloud of moth-dust, dust cos she was ‘gawn’.
I’m not sure if there’s few postal services from the places she visits, but the postcards aren’t exactly piling up on the doormat (Ok - there is in fact NO postal service to our finca in the olive grove, there’s no address either) … but the messages that get through are mighty enough to make up for their diminutive number.
Postcard 1:
The insurance claim post-burglary, where personal integrity (or plain stupidity) made me resist the urge to make a creative claim (despite the encouragement from the authorities – wtf?!) … but which yielded an astronomically over-generous pay-out solving the issue of a mechanics bill and seeding a nest-egg all in one fell swoop.
As a way of getting my attention, this one worked! Go money moth!
Postcard 2:
Some emergency translation to help a friend out with her work with NGOs … I took it on as service to the community … in the hope of some buckets of karma-cleaning fluid, cos I really didn’t expect much cash for it. But hey, lung-gompa-moth strike 2! It worked out as a significant hours for euros exchange and the rainy day nest-egg just grew beyond ostrich sized in one coffee-fuelled pre-dawn blast.
So the corner of one eye is now trained on the metaphorical doormat, ever watchful … just waiting for the sound of a soft-moth-postcard-delivery … advising me of another opportunity to pump up that nest-egg with ease, delight and the disbelief-dissolving reality of lung gompa moth-hood.
