A Guided Meditation to Meet the Guardian at the Threshold
Find a quiet place where the veil is thin,
between breaths, between heartbeats, between thoughts.
Sit with your spine tall and your body grounded.
Feel the weight of the world beneath you,
not as a burden,
but as the Earth remembering your name.
Close your eyes.
Breathe.
Let the breath spiral in.
Let it spiral out.
Like wind threading a labyrinth,
like the turning of a wand in your palm.
With each breath, you descend.
Down through the coils of your spine,
Down through the roots of your being.
The world above fades into silence.
You are walking the edge now.
You find yourself on a narrow path,
worn smooth by countless feet;
witches, seekers, visionaries, fools.
The mist curls around your ankles,
and the air hums with memory.
Before you rises a gate.
Not of iron or stone,
but made of something older,
woven from your choices, your pain, your longing.
It shimmers with the language of your soul.
This is the Gate That Speaks Your Name.
Approach it slowly.
Listen.
What does it whisper?
Is it a challenge? A riddle?
Does it call you by the name you give others,
or by the one you have never spoken aloud?
You reach out.
Your hand trembles. That’s all right.
Touch the gate.
Feel how it responds to your presence,
not as a stranger,
but as something that has always known you.
And then,
From the shadows beside the gate,
someone steps forward.
The Guardian.
This being is neither enemy nor friend,
but a force shaped in the forge of your becoming.
It may wear your face.
Or the face of your deepest fear.
Or something ancient, winged, shrouded, radiant.
Do not turn away.
Look into their eyes.
Ask them what they guard.
What they protect you from.
What they hold back until you are ready.
Listen.
This is the voice of the threshold.
When you are ready,
ask the Guardian:
“What must I become to pass?”
Let the answer rise like smoke in your mind.
Let it burn if it must.
Let it show you something true.
You may pass through the gate today.
Or not.
It does not matter.
You have stood before it.
You have heard your name.
And that… is the beginning.
Return now.
Return with the breath.
Return with the whisper of your name still echoing.
Return with the knowing that there is power in waiting,
and greater power in daring.
When you are ready,
open your eyes.
And write what you saw.
Where the Blackthorn Grows Wild 