Several months ago I became involved in a writing game at one of the writing sites. It was an ego-driven thing, but I wasn’t allowing myself to understand that, at the time. I was new, ready, and certain I would be up to the challenge. The theme was to be Gothic, with dark forbidding castles, a heroine, a villain– all the luscious parts of Gothic. Ah, yes! I relished the idea, thinking of the fearfully suggestive gothic novel covers I’d seen displayed at book stands everywhere. It would be an interactive tale of cringing cowardice, malice and fear. It might also become a story filled with intrepid doings if one but examined the potential story lines. Ah, what challenge! I remember the saying my old teacher used to quote: "Challenges unmet are golden opportunities lost -Yes, indeed. Flexing my fingers over the keyboard, I knew I was ready.

And that’s probably when something else rubbed hands together, preparing the way. The writing became its own teaching, showing me there are levels of self inside ourselves, ready and willing to help, if we but listen. Or type whatever comes out, however crazy it seems at the time. Follow with me this gothic tale if you will. Determine for yourself. You may even ‘find’ some of your own levels of self, who knows?


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Purposefully I stride across the yellow dry crust of the old lake, not stopping until I come to the blue diamond glinting under noon sun, waiting for me.

Standing just outside the jewel's power circle, I look up to violet sky, slowly raise my gauntleted arms. With barest hesitation, I pull the gloves from my hands, while stepping directly into the Circle. Gently I move around, to the Center, where I place the Gloves. Turning around once more, full Circle, I stand. With arms held high I move out, away, crying, "Here! I AM...! Ready or Not!"

and find myself, running, stumbling through heavy rain, searching rocky cliffs for shelter. I see a small crevice tucked under an overhang and creep inside.

"My life is a soggy mess just like this storm," I’m thinking, while water squeezes from my hair and clothes. Pushing long wet strands of hair behind my ears, I peer through streams of rain, still slanting down outside my lair. "Tired," I whisper. "I am so bone-weary tired...." My thoughts fall into a murmur; I feel my first sense of peace in days, and drift into exhausted sleep.

I wake to a clear melody of sound. Where is it coming from? What is it?

I scramble to my knees, but see only pearly gray of early morning fog. Last night's storm is still clouding the mountain peak behind the dark castle, where I’d been a prisoner.

There! I can hear that sound again... what on earth is it? The sound makes me feel happy without any reason. Ah, yes! There it is, drifting over there, by the line of trees. Do I see it or do I hear it as well? A glint of rainbow flashes, is gone, flashes again.

"See the Pattern. Hear the Melody" --Flash--

Realizing it disappears each time I look, I relax, pretending I’m not searching the hillside with my eyes. Barely, gently, the sound comes again, closer. I can feel the sound of colors playing across my face. I dare not move nor open my eyes for fear It, whatever it is, will go away. I feel safe! I’ve not felt this safe except in my dreams. Where is this place? I wonder. Where am I?

"Hearken to these words, Child, hear these words." The Voice is clear, pure, yet I could hear incredible harmonics in it. More than one voice, all speaking at the same time, in harmony. My mind is stretched to the limit, but yes, this is what I am hearing.

A small silence. The Voice continues..."Understand what endures, child. Once you can do that, you can resolve any problem. And remember: You can always ask for help as well." Tinkle of colored hues, a swirl around my face of gentle touch, and I am alone on the hillside once more.

The morning wisps of cloud are clearing, I note, and I look toward the Dark Castle, with my shuddering memories of its dungeons. The night’s storm had caused a break in its walls, giving me the opening I’d needed to escape. And I take it, in spite of old fears that had always held me in chains far stronger than castle walls. Thoughts of regret, remorse over lost days are fast losing impact as I gaze out over the forest in front of me.

Sky’s into a beautiful shade of early morning light, I hear birds chirruping. The castle does not seem to darken the land today. Wait! It should be up on that high crag; I was certain I traveled down the mountain toward the village during the storm. Peering again, I see nothing I recognize. Not the familiar path, nor the castle, nor even thatched roofs. Where has this night's storm taken me?

Strangely, I feel no fear, only a deep quiet strength that is beginning to flow through me, giving my body life once more. "I am freed from the Castle with its stone walls. I have overcome my fear of consequences. I have thrown away fear from my resolve." With understanding comes strength, I know; my mind is already sifting dark fear into oblivion.

"This is the last time I am the Victim", I shout. "The very last time!"

And with a jaunty skip, I dance out of the dark cave into full morning light on the mountain, singing, "Ready or Not, Here I AM!"

Is it my imagination, or does just a hint of rainbow laughter follow me? Doesn't matter: I feel pretty good as I make my way back across the crusted surface of the long-dry lake bed. My challenge has been well met this day.


~ Judith Bailey ~

Copyright 2001