My Journey and Ulysses

My current journey into writing and my spirit guide, Ulysses, helping me along the way.

The woman stands looking out to sea; the wind plays havoc with her shoulder-length dark brown hair.
It whips across the collar of her dress, tickling the back of her neck as it dances to and fro. Each gust seems stronger than the one before.
Her purple medieval-style dress, which cinches at the waist, caresses her ankles in time with her hair upon her neck.
The sun dazzles across the ocean’s surface, creating silver glimmers that spread as far as the eye can see, like diamonds beckoning that will never be held. She shades her eyes with her hand to dim the glare radiating back from the water and breathes deeply of the salty air that dances across her taste buds.

The grassy knoll upon which she stands offers the most stunning view of the water below, and if you lean over just far enough, you can make out the small sandy cove that is sheltered by the hill. It is a sacred space that she can come to think, to reflect upon the day, or to quiet her busy mind.

The grass rustles and bows in the wind, the long stalks battling to maintain any semblance of strength. The recent rains have returned colour to its expanse, adding a vibrancy to the views surrounding her.
But the wind cannot hide the sound of the gentle hoof falls that sound from behind her, and only embellishes the scent the strong, sure body produces.
His presence is welcome. That is why she came. He is one of her guides, offering her strength when she struggles to find it on her own. She has asked for signs, for answers without even really knowing she was doing so. And that is when Ulysses stepped forward and has been with her ever since.

He is strong and powerfully built. They stand shoulder to shoulder, but his neck stretches beyond towards his head and the magnificent set of antlers that branch out and up with amazing beauty, no one could deny. They capture your eyes before anything else, and she wonders how he can hold their immense weight. But for her, the most captivating feature of this proud and formidable creature is his eyes. The windows to his very soul, who capture her in their gaze and hypnotise her with their beauty. They are dark, like chocolate, and beyond the wisdom is a kindness, a gentleness and unending patience for the woman standing beside him.

She occasionally rests her hand upon his neck, feeling the warmth and vitality beneath his skin, the warmth and reassurance of his existence.
He turns his head to look at her. She holds her hand to his nose, feeling the velvety softness and touch of heated breath.

They speak to each other with honesty and truth. Ulysses with conviction, tolerance, wisdom, clarity and patience. She of doubts, insecurity, and self-hatred. Patterns she has long held onto and believed, never-ending and hard to let go of.
But slowly, ever so slowly, she is changing. And if not for him, she would still be in her perpetual rut.

For she has decided to try something new. Wants to believe she could be good at it, but old habits and devil voices die hard. Ulysses was her sign to move forward, to believe, to try to not give up. To silence the hateful voices hollering their usual vitriol: you cannot do that, you are useless, you will go nowhere, you are too dumb to do that, and on and on they go.

Ulysses represents all she needs to hear and believe. Her journey, facing her monsters and fighting a war. To strive, to seek, to find and not to yield. To embrace the mantra “yes, I will”
When she asked, could I be a writer, could I one day be known for words upon the page, Ulysses appeared.

The stag has always been one of her guides. Those who speak to you, guide you, and protect you when you need it. They are always with you, but for different purposes and at different times. The stag has appeared to me many times, but in many forms. For now, he is Ulysses. In the future, he will be something different. He will meet me anytime, anywhere, but today she has chosen here, upon this windy knoll.

They speak quietly about the small wins she has had. The signs that have presented themselves. He speaks to her of her laziness, her lack of patience, and about the unrealistic expectations that it will all fall into her lap with minimal effort. Her desires outweigh reality, and her lack of willingness to put in the hard yards. He does not mince words. He keeps her in check, reminding her of perseverance, of taking things one step at a time. Ulysses is keeping her steadfast.

Finally, sleep claims her, breaking their connection for now. But at any time she can call him forward, or at times his voice can interrupt a thought, or he presents himself in her mind’s eye to remind her of his presence, always there, grounding her when the demons come.

He is her Ulysses, and this is their journey together.