A mystical experience in the form of a vision shared by Lola Georg.
This vision was revealed during silent meditation in a group setting.

In my mind’s eye, I am walking on a path in a meadow. It is dusk and the sun is setting, creating a sky full of oranges and pinks. I feel peaceful and content. I come upon a small clearing and there, sitting on a log beside a campfire, is Jesus. “I’ve been waiting for you,” he says. “I’m sorry I’m late,” I snap back. “You’re not late,” he continues, “take all the time you need.” I notice that next to the fire, there is a large pile of luggage; suitcases of every shape and size. I realize that these suitcases represent my baggage.

The sun has set and the stars are emerging. Jesus nods towards the luggage. “Are you ready to burn them?,” he asks. “Sure,” I say. I pick up a small briefcase-sized bag, realizing that this bag represents the grievances I hold towards the convenient store clerk that was so rude to me. The bag transforms into a log, and I drop it on the fire. Instantly, the log burns up and turns into a white lily, which shoots off like a rocket into the sky and explodes into a firework of brilliant color. “Cool,” I think. I pick up the next bag; an overnight bag. This bag holds the lies I told in 5th grade that got some of my classmates into big trouble. It turns into a log, which I toss on the fire. Another white lily skyrockets into dark, exploding into a dripping display of green, like a weeping willow tree. “This is fun!”, I think.

I continue on with each of the bags, picking them up, one by one, and tossing them onto the fire. Each bag turns into a log as it hits the fire and then transforms into a white lily before shooting into the dark sky and exploding as a firework. As I work my way through the pile, the bags become heavier and heavier. This one represents my co-worker; this one, my neighbor; my father; my mother; my uncle; my high-school English teacher. Although the bags are becoming heavier, I am feeling lighter.

Finally, there are two bags left, the biggest bags of all. They are oversized suitcases designed for an extended trip, and they look as though they are loaded with stones. One represents my sister; the other, my ex-husband. For how much fun I was having before, I notice that I am reluctant to throw these two suitcases on the fire. It occurs to me that part of my identity is contained within these two bags, and that to put them on the fire means that I will have to loose a part of myself. I realize that I have a sense of victimization in relation to these two people and that to throw the bags on the fire means leaving this part of myself behind. “Okay,” I think to myself, “I can do this.” I start with the sister bag. It is indeed heavy and very difficult to move. I look to Jesus. “Will you help me with this?”, I ask him. He shakes his head no and says, “You made it. You can remove it.”

So I drag and pull the bag towards the fire. I triumphantly pick it up over my head, and as it turns into a log, I smash it down on the fire. Instantly, half a dozen white lilies shoot into the sky and explode into multiple fireworks like a precursor to the grand finale. “One more!”, I think, excitedly. With superhuman strength, I pick up the final piece of luggage, the ex-husband bag. I easy walk over to the fire, again lifting the bag over my head, I emphatically drop it onto the fire. The grand finale of lilies and fireworks has begun! What a sight to behold!

I wipe my hands clean on my thighs. Jesus looks at me and smiles. My baggage, my guilt, my grievances, my angers, my fears – had been transformed into the white lily rockets of forgiveness, which exploded and then dissipated into the black nothingness from whence they came.

Lola’s Reflection:
The first thing I noticed about this vision, was all of the colors -> the setting sun with dimming light in oranges and pinks, the darkness with emergent stars, the fire itself being bright oranges and reds, the white lilies, and the multi-colored fireworks. Fire is often amplified against the backdrop of darkness. Fire can also represent heat and spiritual purification, a burning away of that which is impure, like smelting metal to burn away impurities. Often, fire is used in rituals, and this vision is a personal ritual to rid myself of grievances I carried that where hindering my journey.

I also noticed the metaphor of resurrection in that the luggage turns to logs, which burn in the fire and resurrect as lilies only to become brilliant fireworks against the dark sky, dissipating into nothingness. The fireworks, like the fire itself, are made of many colors. Colors have traditionally had metaphoric meaning. White is the color of innocence and forgiveness; green the color of envy; red, anger. What do different colors mean? The luggage in this vision transforms into logs, which under the heat of fire, transform into lilies, and then fireworks. In what ways has the heat of fire transformed me?

And of course, the lilies. Lilies are the traditional flower of Easter and resurrection. Plus, this whole experience has Jesus as my witness, the man who resurrected into eternal life. Finally, there is the theme of forgiveness. What joy this experience offered me as forgiveness lightens my load! I no longer need to carry this baggage with me, and that is a gift for which I am eternally grateful.

Photo by Jingda Chen on Unsplash

A mystical experience in the form of a vision shared by Lola Georg.
This vision was revealed during silent meditation in a group setting.

In my mind’s eye, I see the woods on a bright, sunny day. I walk to the edge of a stream; a babbling brook that makes the sweetest music. Suddenly, I am under the water, swimming like a fish. The light from above streaks through the water and bounces off the rocks on the bottom of the steam, making them twinkle. All is clear and bright as I swim gracefully and easily through the water.

Up ahead, I spot a bottom feeder swimming over the silky mud nestled between the rocks. A catfish-like creature that skims the bottom of the stream; stirring up the muck. The bottom feeder notices me and becomes very agitated, so much so, that the silt on the bottom of the stream begins to rise and muddies the waters. The more agitated the bottom feeder becomes, the more muck there is and the more opaque the water becomes. I can’t see any longer as I am surrounded by muck and mud.

My first instinct is to swim away, to get away from the bottom feeder and find a clearer part of the stream. Instead, I find myself having compassion for the bottom feeder. After all, the bottom feeder eats the muck as part of the ecosystem. It needs to move to breathe and to stir up the silt to eat. With my compassion for accepting it as it is, the bottom feeder becomes less agitated and settles down, and in doing so, the muck also settles until the clarity of the stream is restored, and the sun illuminates the water once again.

Lola’s Reflection:
As I sat with this vision, I realized that the sun shines the same brightness no mater how murky the waters. It is the bottom feeder, or my own ego, that brings murkiness to the water, particularly when I get upset or agitated. When I have compassion for myself and others, then the murkiness can settle back to the bottom, enabling the light to shine clearly. I wonder, in what ways do I muddy the waters, and perhaps deliberately? Sometimes it is appropriate to agitate things, to challenge the status quo. However, in doing so, do I remain compassionate so that the silt settles? Or do I continue to agitate?

On the other hand, regardless of how muddy things may seem at any given point in time, the light is still shining. It is interesting to note in this vision that the light is steady, strong, and unwavering, regardless of the murky environment. I am reminded of a trip on an airplane. It was storming outside, dark and cloudy. But as the plane ascended above the clouds, the sun was shining clear and bright. Just because it seemed dark and stormy did not mean that the sun was not shining. In rising above the storm clouds, above the turmoil, I can witness the light, pure and strong.

Photo by Yosuke Ota on Unsplash

A mystical experience in the form of a vision shared by Lola Georg.
This vision was revealed during silent meditation in a group setting.

In my mind’s eye, I see an ocean, flat against the horizon. There is no land in sight. The sun is shining brilliantly. A slight breeze causes ripples to form on the ocean. Strangely, a fence surrounds each ripple, and these fences are bobbing on the ocean. Some fences are low to the water, like a small garden fence around the edge of a flowerbed. Others are high, tall brick walls. There is a hedge fence; a split-rail fence; a wrought-iron fence; a barbed-wire fence; a white-picket fence; a stonewall fence. Some fences have gates; others watchtowers. A few of the gates are open, but most of them are closed. Some are locked. Thousands and thousands of fences, each surrounding individual ocean ripples, are floating on the surface of the ocean.

It then occurs to me; how ludicrous it is for one ripple to think it is separate from the rest of the ocean? How could a ripple think of itself without the ocean? The ocean is ripples and the ripples are the ocean. I see that the ripples are like people and the fences are like our bodies, desperately trying to keep ourselves separate from each other, but ultimately, we are joined as one.

Lola’s Reflection:
I think of water as a metaphoric symbol for spirit. I think of the ripples in this vision as representing the divine within each person. Each person as a ripple cannot exist without the ocean or spirit. I think about what causes ripples on the ocean. The answer, of course, is the wind. The wind can be representative of the breath of life in each person. Winds can be calming, as a cool breeze, or violent as a fierce storm. Winds can change, but they are always in motion, as life itself is in motion.

I found it fun and a bit funny to think of fences (or defenses) as separating me from other people. What kind of fence do I have? Somedays it feels like a garden hedge, and other days an impenetrable wall of brambles. When is the gate to my heart open? Or is it slammed shut and locked with a deadbolt? How do i respond to the winds of change blowing through my defenses? Something more to ponder.