To me, a pendulum represents the movement between extremes as we search for the still point of unity, balance, and Oneness that can hold them together. We may experience a similar movement in life, feeling uncertain about which direction to take or what to do. When we pause and enter stillness, we can listen for the intuitive direction of the Presence of Oneness within us. In that place of balance, we may feel the flow of creation moving through us, joining what we think of as Heaven and Earth and helping us bring a higher state of being into our lives. While we are swinging back and forth, it can be difficult to see a clear path for that flow.
In the past, hypnotists sometimes used a pendulum or another moving object to help a client focus. Today, they may use the rhythm of their voice to guide attention and relaxation. We, too, can use a word that feels resonant to bring our focus back to inner stillness, calm, or peace. Guided meditation can help us relax deeply and reconnect with our Higher Self or Presence. As the protective part of the mind settles, we may find it easier to listen inwardly.
This zero point of balance and harmony is the Now moment of our existence.
My recent journey has involved releasing ancestral patterns. It has led me beyond my personal family history and toward the story of Adam and Eve in the Garden of Eden—the temptation and expulsion—as a mythic pattern I am ready to examine. To me, the story can symbolize a movement away from unity consciousness and the separation of the masculine and feminine within each of us, rather than their integration.
I will not explore the whole story here. What I have been seeing is how it can reflect freedom of choice and our tendency to place the blame for the results of our choices on someone else. In that reading, the story speaks to how we move from a sense of unity into the struggle and division of an ego-centered world. The blame placed on Eve has also been used to justify the subjugation of women and the feminine. Such patterns can leave us with shame, self-doubt, fear, blame, and a sense of separation—as though we are incomplete. Many of us look for someone, in body or spirit, to make us whole. I have come to feel that what I am truly seeking is the Presence within me: the wholeness that comes from reconnecting with my Higher Self.
When the pendulum first came to mind, I also saw an anchor. Its shape suggested a central point with movement extending out to either side. An anchor keeps a ship from drifting with the tides and waves. In this image, the water represents emotion. When our emotions are unsettled, we can feel carried from side to side. The anchor becomes a symbol of steadiness when circumstances feel uncertain.
It did not surprise me to see an anchor, because I have recently been working with the energies of Poseidon. I understand Poseidon as an archetypal representation of the waters, oceans, seas, and earthquakes—and of the ways we experience these forces within our lives. Water can represent emotion; the depths of the ocean, our deeper feelings and shadows. It takes strength to face our fears, doubts, and choices we regret, and to ask what shaped them. We can look for what they have to teach us instead of remaining in self-pity or victimhood. In my own practice, once I have explored a pattern and its possible roots, I offer its memory and effects to the violet flame and imagine the space filling with golden-white light. That is one way I work; each of us can find a practice that feels right.
The process can help us recover strength, courage, and sovereignty, and clear a path for a more balanced flow. I believe we are creator beings, each carrying a spark of the Source of creation.
I began writing this yesterday. This morning I woke early and heard the beginning of a message from Joyce Meyer, a Christian television minister. She was speaking about love: we are called to love others, not only those who believe as we do, but everyone. Her message reminded me that loving others is one way we bring our beliefs into our daily lives.
The passages she referred to from the Christian Bible speak of love as central to a life of faith. They do not limit love to people who share our beliefs or skin color. I was also reminded of teachings associated with Buddha and Muhammad that call us toward compassion and care for others. I began to wonder if I had moved away from the subject of my writing, and then I remembered: love is the essence and key of life.
Love is the anchor that can hold us in balance and alignment, so we are less likely to be carried back and forth by emotional waves or distorted perceptions. In my understanding, Poseidon represents the exploration of feelings hidden in the depths—feelings that can rise like a powerful wave or shake the ground beneath us. The higher heart offers a point of connection where we can return to stillness and feel love.
In a recent practice, while resting in that stillness, I was guided to expand the love in my heart outward—to surround the Earth and flow through the Earth, its gridlines, the oceans, and the air, and then into the Universe. When I feel rooted in love, my inner protector can soften. I can let that deeper sense of connection guide my actions and the way I meet others.
Fear and darkness can seem to hold great power, but I have come to see how my attention and choices can give them more influence over my life. When I reclaim my sovereignty, I can loosen their hold on me. My intention, together with the clarity and force of my emotions, can shape how I act and what I bring into my life. To create in a way that feels pure and beneficial, I want to begin from love, balance, and harmony—from the still point of the pendulum.
From that still point, we are no longer trapped in the roles of the helpless victim or the controlling, distorted authority. We can stand in the power of creator beings. For me, this became a deeper look at why I dislike the abuse of power and authority. When I allowed the actions of others to disturb my inner balance, I was swinging the pendulum too. Returning to stillness helped me see that this struggle had affected my own willingness to accept the creative power within me. I had kept myself small and hidden, working in the background—partly from fear of people who misuse power and partly from a fear that I might become like them if I accepted my own.
I have seen shadows behind too many people who call themselves spiritual leaders or gurus, and behind people in other positions of power. I have worked hard to release ego and the need for recognition. In a moment of reflection, the archetypal energies of Poseidon and Isis seemed to show me that I was ready to accept my own power because I had learned more about peace, love, and Presence. Long ago, I was told that I could help others access their power because I did not feel a need to hold on to it for myself.
I had forgotten that until today. Now, as I understand peace, love, and Presence more deeply, I feel ready not only to share ways of aligning with our own Presence and power, but also to embody that understanding myself. I do not know the original source of this hesitation; it may reach back through many chapters of my Being. What matters to me now is that I can release the fear and self-doubt around it. I can use my creative energy with love and alignment, for the benefit of all.
Then I saw the pendulum again, this time with the energy of Buddha. These archetypal images remind me of peace, balance, and stillness. Yesterday, I saw an image of the monk and his dog Aloka preparing to fly home. It was chilly, and the monk was wrapping a blanket around Aloka as they waited. I noticed that the monk was barefoot, which made me smile. I wondered how he could be cold without shoes and yet seem so focused on keeping Aloka warm. To me, that was love. I felt that their journey carried a message of love, and the monk’s bare feet echoed my own sense of connection to the Earth.
Today is my peaceful day. I begin each day with that thought. I light a small candle and place pure water in a glass, bringing to it what I wish to release and what I wish to welcome into my life. When I pass the glass during the day, I acknowledge what it holds. At the end of the day, I pour the water onto the ground with thanks. For safety, I blow out the candle after I have set my intention. The candle is not necessary; for me, it is simply a reminder of the flame of creation.
I was then brought back to the beginning of this writing and to the myth of Adam and Eve, and the separation into duality that it can represent—the separation of the masculine and feminine within each of us and within humanity. I believe they exist as One in the Creator, and that when we move in unity with our Presence, they can be integrated within us. We need both the intention and action associated with the masculine and the nurturing love of the Mother as we create and align.
Whether I imagine a pendulum or an anchor, the image brings me back to the same place: the zero point of balance, harmony, peace, love, and stillness within. Sometimes the insight that comes is not a miraculous revelation. It is simply a deeper look at the pieces and how they fit together.
I find that journaling—and writing down my dreams, synchronicities, and signs—helps me bring together pieces I might not otherwise have connected.
When you feel out of balance, you might try this:
Pause and breathe deeply. Center yourself. If it helps, imagine a pendulum swinging more and more slowly until it reaches its still point.
Imagine a violet flame surrounding you. Bring to mind someone or something you love—a person, a pet, the ocean, a mountain view, or the desert. Breathe in that love. As you breathe out, imagine releasing what does not resonate with love into the violet flame.
When you feel more peaceful and your heart feels full of love, imagine that love expanding outward: filling your aura and home, then reaching your neighborhood, city, state, country, the world, the Earth, the oceans, and the Universe.
Then breathe it in, and be it.
