Atlantis, Land of Dreams

Ariel listened. A gentle breeze rustled leaves in a nearby tree and a flock of geese winged overhead, producing impatient honks. Brushing discouragement aside, she focused on connecting to the spirit world and the Archangel Selaphiel, whom she beseeched to speed her prayer to the Creator. Maybe music since she’s the musician’s muse.

From a leather case that Ariel kept on a strap over her shoulder, she retrieved her ivory flute. She raised the blowing hole to her lips, positioned her fingers above their holes, and closed her eyes once more to concentrate on her music without distraction. She allowed her emotions to flow as she drew a harmonious melody from the instrument with the skill of one who had spent forty years perfecting her art.

Ratiki raised on his hind legs, peering curiously at Ariel with twitching whiskers and ears perked. The fat, spoiled raccoon crawled into her lap and curled into a contented ball. Her pet especially loved her music and didn’t understand he was disrupting her meditation. It wasn’t working, anyway.

She finished the modal tune before laying the instrument on the grass at her side and allowed herself a minute to pet Ratiki’s soft, grizzled, gray-brown fur. He nestled under her palm and regarded her with a disappointed look. “I know you love it when I play the flute, Tiki, but I must find answers; and to do that, I must ask the right questions.”

Ariel shifted her gaze from his adorable, masked face to survey the fertile plain before her. Four houses made of mud bricks and wood erected on stone foundations and topped with orangey-red terracotta tiles stood in a group around a central plaza containing a well and water tower. One house belonged to Ariel, her mother, daughter, and Oma—her great-great-great-grandmother. The others were homes to her brother and his family, her uncle and his family, and four immigrant workers who shared in the profits from the expansive farm.

They were solid, well-crafted houses filled with comfortable furnishings, lovely décors, and all the modern conveniences. The cut, color, and shapes of the patio stones were pleasing to behold, as were the plants, shade trees, and spectacular views. Beyond the grouping of abodes spread more fields, then forests, and in the distance towered the majestic peaks of the Opocalám Range. Since the fall equinox had only recently passed, the rocky summits weren’t covered in snow, but misty vapor encircled them as if cradled in the tender arms of a lover. Arial couldn’t see the waters of the impressive Lago Actoy because of the vast spread of trees, but she could estimate where the lake lay. A league to the south, she could make out the rooftops of Elyrna, the nearest village where a bathhouse, laundry, theater, and small temple were located. Every year she traveled to the Ring of Stones south of here for celestial celebrations and regularly visited Evamont, the capital of her city-state, though they weren’t visible from her vantage point.

Down the hill behind her, extended an enormous meadow spotted with shade trees where contented herds of deer, bison, cattle, horses, and elephants grazed—no doubt under the patient scrutiny of lions and foxes. Jaguars commanded the lands to the south with bears and wolves sticking to the highland forests. It was important to share the fertile lands with other species because the Creator valued them and intended for the creatures, plants, and features of the earth to work together for the benefit of all.

Ariel could still feel the vibrational essence of the herds, the geese, and her sweet, mischievous companion; her ability to communicate with nature was not currently in dispute. When had she lost her constant connection to the cosmos, to Universal Consciousness itself, and why hadn’t she realized it until now?

As a child, manifesting was easy. She could think about wildflowers, and they would spring up all around her. Turning thoughts to things was a game she and Lysandra played for the sheer joy of it. As a youth, Arial recalled the surge of energy when she perceived the power of creation flowing through her body like blood and fluid, crackling in the air like lightning in a storm. Conversing with archangels, ancestors, and the Infinite Creator had been as tangible as talking to her brother. Why was it such a struggle now? What had changed?

Fifty-two wasn’t old. Oma Naunet was over three hundred. Sure, Ariel had raised two children to adulthood, but she was far from old. If I raise my vibration, I’ll feel it again. Surely, the fault lies with me, not the heavens. Let me retrieve my most joyful memory and embody the feeling of elated bliss.

Rolling her shoulders, Ariel repositioned herself comfortably and stroked Ratiki for good measure before turning her palms skyward. The first thought to pop into her mind was of her and Lysandra. Those were always her most treasured memories, and a smile immediately blossomed on her lips. But no. While conjuring powerful feelings of unspeakable joy, thoughts of Lysandra were always tinged with the pain of loss and longing, not what Ariel needed if she was to open her soul to the Oneness of all she sought. Knowing she would pull out a moment spent in Lysandra’s arms when she lay down to sleep that night, Ariel tucked it neatly away, latching a door behind it, and chose the feeling of exuberant awe from when her son Mal’akhi was born.

It was a powerful vibration, one that thrust her into a sea of joy to make the ocean appear small. She was in her family home, her mother and the midwife at her side encouraging her, while her uncle, brother, and husband paced an outer room. “One more push,” the midwife had instructed. Summoning all her strength, Ariel had pushed, and at once her labor pains subsided. She felt tremendous relief overtake her body as the baby emerged, but she couldn’t see. She had stretched forward, desperate to discover if the baby was all right, if it was a boy or girl. After waiting so long, her arms ached to hold her child.

“It’s a perfect little boy!” her mother had exclaimed. “Oh, Ariel, I’m so proud of you, so overjoyed for our family!”

The midwife wrapped her son in a soft blanket of llama wool that had been infused with blessings and handed him to her. The unspeakable joy of that moment had been irrevocably branded into Ariel’s consciousness, a powerful blast of emotion for which there were no words. Still, she could replay the event in her mind and feel it all over again, as if it were happening for the first time. In her arms, she held a brand-new life, a whole little person who came from inside her, who was both a part of her and a separate being. It was the closest she had ever come to comprehending the fundamental Law of One. We all came forth from the Creator even as Mal’akhi came from me. Everyone and everything is connected, born of Jjeevan Shakti, the life force, fashioned from the One who fills the heavens and the earth, unique expressions of a single Divine Energy. Speak to me again. Let me feel your presence surround me as I once did.

As Ariel waited, basking in the glory of her joyful feelings, she felt a faint vibration, like a fly landing on the string of a lyre. The frequency touched her like a voice from a great distance, barely a hush, the flutter of butterfly wings. Gather with the others, for you are chosen. Before Ariel could reply or ask a question, the sensation lifted, and she once again sat on the grassy hill with a loyal raccoon nestled atop her feet between her knees.

Ariel let out a long sigh. “What did that mean, Tiki?” she asked, as if he would know. “Did I even receive a word, or was it only my imagination?”

At the sound of his name, Ratiki stirred, walked his hands up the front of her natural, undyed tunic, and sniffed her breath. You are wise. You’ll figure it out, he conveyed to her through his compact electromagnetic signals. Let’s go have breakfast.

With a laugh, Ariel ruffled the fur behind his head. “You don’t worry about anything but food, little rascal. Maybe I could learn some wisdom from you, huh?”