The Knitting Journeyman

Gathering Up One Thread At A Time As I Weave This Web Of Mine.....

Wednesday, March 4, 2009

The Queen's Presence

I am not actually certain when the Octopus began to come to me in my dreams. I am even less certain when She began to manifest in my daily life. The sheer suddenness of Her appearance in my life is a little daunting. Before I really had a chance to know what was happening, I was online scanning pictures for “the right” picture. Once I found it, it was a simple process to find a decent tattoo parlor. I went once to get some test work done, small simple tattoos that I figured even a monkey could do. The details of the final product of my simple designs thrilled me to no end. I scheduled another appointment right there to have the work done on the Masterpiece.
My tattoo is not too large. It is roughly five inches by seven inches. It is by far the largest one I have now. I have many tattoos. Whenever I get a new tattoo there is an internal acceptance process my body goes through in order to assimilate the ink and the spiritual import. I get a little sick, usually for a day or two. For me, it’s like getting a deep-tissue massage that releases every toxin that my body has stored and I have to drink lots of fluids and rest as I release everything and re-organise internally. When I got the Queen tattoo, I was dog-sick for over a week. Now, other than some very small areas in some rather small tattoos, I had not had much colour work before. The Queen is in full-colour. And She is extremely life-like.
Now, during my search for “the” picture, I also tried to do as much research on the animal itself as I could. I had always liked octopus. The one Jacque Costeau program I have seen when I was a young child that stuck with me was the one about the octopus and Jacque asking if someone thought the octopus could feel pleasure. I found a lot of biological information. I found out about the tentacles, the intelligence, the shape-shifting, the mimicry. I watched videos of octopus snatching sharks from the water and eating them. I watched videos of the depth of octopus camouflage. I watched videos of octopus in captivity who squeezed through horribly tiny tubes and pipes and holes. I watched video of octopus leaving the water of their own tank and moving through the air and dry land to get to other food sources, in or out of another nearby tank. I read accounts of octopus interactions with humans and otherwise.
I read whatever mythology I could find as well. What I read left a lot to be desired. Are octopus simply aliens from another planet? Are they the last of their kind of the creatures who ruled Earth before humans gained ascension? Are they the Dream Weavers? Have they come from a different dimension? The stories that I did find were short and without much detail.
I know, as a ShapeShifter, that I need to do my own research, my own inner work. I have gathered information from outside sources. Now I must find what the Octopus means to me.
There are a vast many correlations between one Guardian (Grandmother Spider) and the other Guardian (Queen Octopus) in my Life. I have been under the protection and at the discretion of Grandmother Spider since I was a small child. Spider has eight legs. Octopus has eight legs. Both are said to have climbed from one World into another. Each has similarities, but each also strays farther into deeper paths away from one another.
Octopus regenerate. They change colors. They have ink or poison, for not all octopus have ink. They come in sizes from very tiny to absolutely huge. They are intelligent beyond what humans are usually willing to accept from an “animal”. They can survive both on land (for short time periods) and in the water. They morph into whatever shape is needed for the situation. Octopus do not fit into a mold; there is no “box” into which we can stuff an octopus and say—stay there, as we do with most other species we know. Octopus are Other-Worldly.
My own studies led me to specialize in the blue-ring octopus. She is an extremely defensive mother, cradling her young in her arms until they hatch, at which time she withers away and dies, her life force continuing in her young. She is the smallest of octopus. She has no ink. Her rings are hidden until she releases her poison. If you see the blue rings light up, you are already dead as the poison is already in the water and you are already surrounded by it and being killed by it. She is protective of her home. She is not aggressive. She does prefer to swim away, if no eggs are present, rather than fight or kill. All she wants is to hunt for her dinner and then go home, left in peace and unmolested.
I walk this Path. I walk through the Worlds, Known and Unknown. I see the Savagery, yet I am not a part of it. I feel the Pain of the masses, wherever I go. I cannot escape that. It is not my job to Heal them. It is not my job to Free them. Those who come to me for help take only what they will from the experience. I force nothing upon them. I am not the Enemy. I am not the Master. I am merely on a Journey, a wandering minstrel, taking in the Sights, waiting for my feet to turn the right direction and lead me straight into my Home.

copyright 2009 TK Kietero
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