Summer, 2014. I am camped at Bunny Flats on Mt. Shasta in northern California. This is one of the great volcanoes of the “ring of fire” around the Pacific ocean. Like most prominant volcanoes, this one has big mythological stories about it. I have my own stories as well! I consistently have potent experiences whenever I visit. On this particular day I am resting in my tent, with the rainfly off so I can see the bright blue sky through the mesh on my roof. Feel the breeze traveling by. I’m not napping. I’m not tripping. Not even meditating. Just enjoying being here and following the urge to lie down. It turns out it was for a reason.
A vision comes to me, unbidden. A medium sized Dragon looks at me from out of the darkness. I have a life-long relationship with dragons that I didn’t begin to explore until I was in my 50’s. Because, you know, dragons aren’t real so it’s foolish to believe in them; so the cultural story goes. There are a lot of cultural stories about dragons that aren’t particularly accurate or helpful. Like them being evil beasts for the Great Knights to slay in a heroic exploit to rescue us. No. I am not a dragon slayer. They guard me. They guard my inner treasure. I’m not saying I experience them “in the flesh” but I definitely experience them in other ways. So when I see this vision, I take it as a visitation. The first thing the Dragon does is swallow me.
I find myself in a small cavern with a crystalline blue pool of water. It’s the Dragon’s belly. It’s not dark in here. There is blue-white light coming from the water. Not far above me, off to one side, I see the outer casing of the Dragon’s Heart. It looks like a ball of lava lattice, stained glass style, but also fleshy. Thick gnarled dark dark gray borders with a red-orange pulse glowing through the mottled panes. It feels like an engine, like a beacon, like the fire of life.
The vision has me dive into the water. I swim and swim through a narrow channel. Breath is not a problem, just like being swallowed wasn’t a problem. Eventually I come out the other side. I am in a completely different place. Years later I learn of Peruvian and Chinese mythologies about dragons being portals. Looks like that’s what has happened here.
Before me is a vast landscape in a similar crystalline blue and blue-white color palette. It’s filled with narrow, soaring mountain peaks capped with not-snow. It’s not cold here. Everything is very still. This is an ethereal place. In shamanism you’d call this the Upper World. In Christianity you might call this Heaven (but it’s not.) I’m sure Buddhist cosmology has a world like this.
There is a wide path winding around one of the peaks. I walk up it. Soon I see an old man in a white robe hanging to the ground, with white hair and beard nearly as long as his robe. Stereotypical, right? This is not part of my normal belief system but I have certainly seen these characters in stories. Were the stories pointing to something actual or is the visitation utilizing a familiar metaphor to get a point across? My visions seem to go both ways, so who knows.
Without a word, the old man gifts me a sword. It’s made of clear crystal, again with a blueish hue in the bevels. I receive it and the vision ends. I am humbly honored. I am also bewildered.
Remember I said I’m not a dragon slayer? I’m not a warrior either. I’ve worked to reduce violence in my psyche and behavior. So what am I going to do with a sword? Why would I be given one in such a manner? The mythology of swords includes uses other than murder. There is the sword that cuts through illusion to the truth behind the veil. There is the sword that forms a bridge between worlds. In other words, there are options. It is potential at the moment. In my imagination, I make a backpack holster to carry it, and slide the sword over my shoulder into it’s new home.
Mt. Shasta and the namesake town are a mecca for New Age activities and beliefs of probably all kinds. Crystals are endemic, so they are in great supply here. I scour the crystal shops for a stone that the sword could be made out of. To my dismay, I only find opalite to come close. A synthetic opal. Seriously? You’d think an aquamarine or even an aqua-aura quartz would do it, but no. I pay the dollar for the polished tiny oval of fake opal to help me remember the vision and meditate on it. Perhaps someday it will all make sense and become useful. I’m used to this waiting.
Fast forward a few years. My daughter and I are at a farmer’s market in Waimea, on Hawai’i Island. This island is formed by 5 volcanoes, with a sixth forming just offshore. One, Mauna Kea, is the second tallest volcano in the solar system. I absolutely love living here. I have a thing for volcanoes. My daughter’s paternal grandmother and her ancestors are from here. While we’re waiting in line, a young man walks straight up to Summer, palm flat, and says “Your sword is ready.” We don’t quite understand him. He repeats “Your spiritual sword is ready.” I catch on and tell Summer to take it! So she “grabs” it. Then he turns to me and says “Your Gun Blade is ready. I had the Elves make it for you.” Well, he apparently knows who he’s talking to lol. I accept it and ask what a gun blade is. He briefly describes a sword with a star in the middle. The star is made of flower, wind, and leaf. Sounds perfect to me!
Fast forward another few years, post-covid. I’m at an ocean overlook one night as I take a break from packing up to move off-island. It’s not that I want to move; it’s ripping a river of grief in my soul. I wish I could stay here forever. Things have changed here. My life is shifting right now. Long story short, I stumbled upon a place on the mainland where I could set up my gongs and singing bowls to offer sound baths in a professional manner. This has been a long-haul goal that has taken me through heaven and hell. Now it’s smack dab middle-class brick and mortar. That same day I found an affordable place to live near the office. It’s time to give it a try.
Under the stars at this liminal spot where the ocean laps Mauna Kea’s lava, I continue my search for a name to give my new business. Then I remember: dance with the volcano, but modulate the power so I don’t get blown out again! I sing and move as I ASK for a name. What does the business want to be called? “Thinning the Veil”
Perhaps that is what this sword is for.