Speaking With the Bound One, Part 3

I'm overdue in getting back into chronicling this, but here goes.

After what I discussed in the previous post, not a whole lot changed for a while.  I want to say it was about three years before I resumed my training with the Bound One in the caves.  There was some insecurity and trepidation involved, to be sure.  I was unclear as to why I felt drawn to Fenrir and why I felt this certainty that understanding Fenrir was the key to understanding my own issues, when every other meditation was cautioning me of the dangers.  I eventually broke down when I hit a low point in my life after my grandmother's passing, and was having difficulty finding work and getting a start on my college education.  That whole situation was a ticking time bomb in my life in the first place, but that's what happens when you sacrifice five years of your time to help someone else; resentment and anger are quick to follow, and for me, where there was anger, there was the Bound One.

So I got back into my meditation routine, and found myself drawn back to that cave entrance.  There was a lot of internal back and forth that I don't really want to get into right now, but ultimately, I arrived at the decision to risk it.  I hated myself at that point.  I hated myself, I hated most of my family, I hated most of my friends, I hated almost everyone.  There was nothing left in my heart but resentment and bitterness aside from what I felt was owed to the select few that stood by me at that time.  I can't deny that this was not a good mental state to be in to approach Fenrir.

When I entered the cave, there was a palpable difference from prior visits.  There wasn't just the rage and hatred and pain, but there was a sense of danger and personal risk.  I was reluctant, but I kept going forward.  When I reached the prison, I realized that something was indeed wrong.  Fenrir-as-Wolf was present, but asleep; I had never seen the Wolf sleep in my previous visits, and it was unsettling to see the monster that peaceful.  What was more unsettling, was that for all of the peaceful appearance of the sleeping Wolf, I still felt all of the emotion of the waking Fenrir, but couldn't place why.

As I went deeper into the meditation, I sensed some movement in the cave, and my defensive reflex triggered.  Now, when I meditate, I always visualize myself as wearing armor and carrying my sword of preference at the time -- at this point, that was a hand-and-a-half sword -- so I pulled the blade from its sheathe just in time for the shock I needed and wasn't prepared for.

Fenrir hit me like a boulder.  This was the first time I'd seen him appear in his more humanized Jotunn form (or at least the one he shows to me), over a foot taller than I am, hugely powerful, long hair, long beard, primitive hide armors, clawed hands, and the same feral eyes as the Wolf.  I was knocked from my feet in the meditative world and my sword was sent flying.  He roared about how I was ignoring his lessons and how I needed to realize what I was doing wrong while flinging my astral-self around like a rag doll.  To this day, it stands as the most viscerally painful meditation I've ever experienced.

It's an odd feeling when you're meditating and you know your physical body is fine and perfectly still in your bed, while being at the same time fully aware that you've come face to face with an enraged divine figure in your meditative-world.  There's a mix of surreal fear for yourself and wanting to just claw your way back to the waking reality and escape it, while knowing that your chances of that independently are next to none (always meditate with a buddy if you know you're in for a challenge, folks, they can pull you out when things go bad).  I found myself genuinely questioning what was going to happen next, because at this point, this was an entirely new experience for me.

Fenrir grabbed me by the collar and hauled me off the ground, staring into my eyes.  It was the most intense fear that I have ever known.  He growled at me while explaining that I needed to wake up and stop ignoring what lurked within, because it was threatening to consume me.  He told me to seek out teachers in the astral that could show me how to bind the anger until I could handle it myself.  It was terrifying; here I was completely at the mercy of a god that I had been told to fear for exactly this reason, and being instructed on what to do next at the same time.  When I had no response, he threw me back out through the entrance to the cave-prison and I shot awake immediately in a cold sweat.

It was a unique experience and one that I still don't really have anything to compare it to.  Ultimately, it led to me encountering my Scourge directly for the first time and starting to learn more about what that spirit had to teach me.  The catharsis that led me to where I am now definitely started on that night, and I think that hitting that low was a vital part of what made my eventual spiritual transformation possible.