White Owl Island

Banksia kalediscope – part of Experiments Set

“My daughters gave you a mystery explained didn’t they,” said the Man in the Green Turban.

“Yes they teased me though”

He chuckled, “Yes, that’s their way. Well my role is to ask you to search for the ying and yang and to keep asking questions even if it hurts.”

“Will that help my seeds grow”

“Yes it’s all part of your journey, You have a map?”

“Yes, E gave it to me.”

“Well the map has both universal and individual symbols on it,

study that map because there’s more hidden there.”

“I will..” I replied.

“Here pass me your anchor for just a minute.”

I passed the anchor and then the old man breathed into it. It gained a butterfly shape .

“Oh thankyou ..” I replied with awe

I returned it to my walnut.

“What should I do with these seeds, they don’t seem to want water.”

He gently laughed,

“ah you need to find your wings, two wings, to take flight…, to dream “

He hobbled over to a jar and sure enough in it were two tiny wings.

“Say hello to little Speck for me. But he can’t have these wings they are for you.”

“How do I wear them”

“ah these are wings of the soul, you wear them through thick and thin.”

There was a brief silence as I pondered these words. Then he continued.

“Now before you return to the ship we must go see the owls and then meet the ferry. I have more to show you before we know just how to look after those seeds of yours.”

“I would so like to meet those Owls. “

“Yes, you have to see through the bird’s eyes to understand the next step of your journey.”

What birds eye view might mean led to a much longer silence. Then he walked out of the potting shed and I followed. We walked for a long time, a day and night and another day and he showed me the trees, the mountains, and the little statues and icons of owl island. We stopped to meet the people of the island, he seemed to know them all.

Each landmark had a story, each person seemed so happy to be in the company of this old man. He said just a few words, pulled things from his pockets, and gave them things that I think were from the potting shed. I wanted to ask questions but something told me this was not the time for the questions, this was the time to listen.

Some of the Sights and people of the Island

(c) June Perkins 2009 all rights reserved

For more of this adventure head to Unity’s Cabin

The inside of the meditation tent was still and quiet and surprisingly empty of people. It was very humid and full of butterflies. They were so varied vivid green, blue, patterned. In the middle of the tent was a large hole with a sign saying “Short cut to the Potting Shed enter with care”. It was a very large hole and you couldn’t really see into it.

“Should I risk it,” I asked myself as I took a very yoga type breath. I looked into my walnut, was there anything within that could assist me. The wooden Owl spoke- “Take out the anchor and think on its meaning.”

“Anchors, what do anchors do.” They moor ships. They hook into sea beds. I looked closely at my anchor and had the sensation of seeing the history of anchors. E’s gift was indeed mysterious to have this effect.

The anchor spoke

The charming of the plough is so fitting for an anchor
For there are plough anchors that grip into the mud
I am sometimes a fisherman the anchor you know best
Or I can simply be a hook or even a mushroom
Once I was just a rock floating in the sea.

Yet there are other anchors travelers seek.
Those virtues that stop us floating out in the torrid
Seas of strife and keep us firm as the waves of tests come
Threatening to set humanity adrift
Values like ancient rocks moor us to the sea of everlasting life.

I paused and threw my tiny anchor into the hole as if it was the ocean. My tiny anchor became heavy and it pulled me down with it. I closed my eyes as the butterflies followed me into the short cut. It was strange to feel them all around me. As I opened my eyes I realized that I was for a brief time a caterpillar and then a butterfly. My time was short but brilliant. I was so comfortable with my butterfly wings then I became Unity again, and was standing in the centre of the potting shed.

How wondrous it was,  just like a lolly shop but for gardeners. Potting shed indeed,you know it was also like a green house, full of so many flowers and plants that were being repotted- and full of cuttings.

There were plants that did not look like plants I was used to, but were constructed out of objects. Artistic sculptural plants like a small tree made out of old furniture pieces, and a tree made out of wire and crystals. “Hello is anyone else here,” I said. “Ah you came through the short cut,” murmured an old man with a green turban who reminded me of an ancient tree he was so still and his hands so gnarled.

“So child… show me those seeds then and I will let you know how to nurture them,” he answered before I had even asked the question.

“Who are you?”

“I my child am the father of those two angels from the cave…”

© June Perkins words and image all rights reserved

© Potting Shed idea Soul Food

For more information on anchors go to - On Anchors