An Unexpected Encounter With The Deity Of Storms

February 26, 2020

In Scandinavia, there was what was later labeled as the December hurricane of ’99. It was one of the most powerful storms to hit Southern Scandinavia ever registered.

At the time, I was living in a country farmhouse surrounded by soft, rolling hills and beautiful forest. The house was very big and the place had been used for corn and rapeseed flowers. These fields were still in use and in the summer, we would have that beautiful scent, which my daughter referred to as: Fields of Gold, due to their color. 

My children say it was a magical place to grow up, and we were never short of guests.

In the wintertime, we would often get snowed in for several days, and our very kind landlord would always be mindful of us. If there was anything we needed, he would bring it on his tractor with snow chains.

I didn’t especially like these periods of being snowed in, since I had a very busy calendar filled with seminars and talks around the country or abroad.
So, I often had to leave in advance in order to fulfill my appointments. Snow is not the problem in itself – it can be removed. Snow and high winds are, since it would block the road again 5 minutes after it had been cleared. So, why bother thought the municipality and yes, why bother?

I was talking with a guy from the US via the Guidance.
He lives in such a place and was snowed in.
We talked about metaphysics and it triggered this memory.

We knew that a powerful storm was incoming and the problem was that it was slow moving. In the start of the winter in Southern Scandinavia until usually mid-January, we get our weather from the North Sea, which is west. It announces the coming of winter and Scandinavia is known for its November storms. 

Then in mid-January, the winds would shift from either coming from the North, polar winds, which actually aren’t as cold as the eastern winds that come straight out of Siberia. If those winds came and the winter weather came from the East, we would be in a big freeze for months. Waterpipes freezing and such and icy rain, which makes it a bit difficult to drive.

We prepared for the Storm as well as we could. The stables were shut tight. We had horses that we used for therapy sessions with disabled kids to boost their self-confidence, we had goats, we had peacocks. I loved the peacocks. We had six, since if you want a male to stay put, you would have to provide it with an appropriate number of females so he wouldn’t stray.
Often, they would jump into our kitchen through the open windows in the summer, just to check the house out and look for a treat. The females didn’t dare. The males we called Bob and Eddie, and having fed them by hand since they were little chicks, they had only trust in us, which made me able to get them under lock together with the horses, goats, and whatnot.

As the dusk settled, the storm grew fierce. Howling winds, and we started to hear trees going down. In front of the house, we had an old and very big chestnut tree and that was my main concern, since it was large enough to fall into the main house or the stables.

We decided to put out some mattresses on the floor in a room that was the furthest away from that tree, meaning it would take out the bedroom and the kids’ room first and hopefully get stuck, before it could take out the dining room in which we had laid the mattresses.

The kids loved it. We were a bit anxious because of the howling winds but enjoyed the closeness.

During the night, I woke up and it was fierce and wild, and potentially dangerous. I could hear the chimney rocking back and forth, and I could hear tiles coming off the roof. I could hear branches snapping and falling to the ground or on the roof along with the tiles that had come loose from the building where our landlord would store the grains.

I got spooked.
There was nowhere to go but out in it and drive through the forest to get to the nearest town. I felt very isolated and vulnerable, and later on, nobody could sleep and it was downright scary.

Having terrified kids is something a parent doesn’t want.

I thought what to do here, but to pray.
And I did that, and it didn’t stop the wind, not that I expected that, but I prayed for my children’s safety.

Then I got the idea of meditating on the Storm.

I said to my partner that I would go into the kitchen and try that, and I made sure that my kids were okay with that. They were. Entering the kitchen was only through a door, which I left open so they could see me, and I lay down on the floor and closed my eyes and tried to identify the storm and what it wanted.
At that time, I had absolutely no idea that we could do that or any “how-to” manual, so I just went in with trust, which basically came out of feeling powerless, which, if we take the fear out of it, is quite healthy once in a while. It boosts our humility.

And humility was the key that unlocked the center of the storm.

As I went further into it, I got more and more nervous as to what I was doing. Could this be done or would things only get worse? That thought or feeling catapulted me further into it.

I started to see the dynamics, the metaphysical anatomy of a storm, and I realized that my fear was: That if I entered this storm and it would get worse on account of me going into it, it would also mean that it could get milder.

If one outcome is possible – so is the other.

When I felt that, and it is a wordless feeling, since I had no more thinking, it was all a feeling from here. I saw something that I had never imagined.
I saw this gigantic entity which I felt was the center of the storm and the source of it.

It looked like a mix of a Japanese Samurai and a Balinese Temple Dancer. With these mechanical, almost demon-like (it wasn’t a demon) movements that they do in order to mirror the way they think a demon would move. Multiple arms, sudden erratic head and eye movements, and extremely fierce looking. This entity spotted me and gave me a terrifying stare. It worked. I got shit scared on top of the other shit scared. I was intruding and I had not been invited.

Humble, humble you have to be, I felt as though this creature had started to give me more attention than I really needed. I had the feeling that it could kill me at any time.

So, while this creature was stirring up its storm, and that was the only thing that existed now: The Creature, me, and the storm – I said from inside myself from a very humble place:

Sorry to disturb you. I hope it is okay that I found you. Would you be so kind to consider to go easy on our house. I fear for my children’s safety and the animals, so I would be very happy, dear Sir, if you would weaken this most fantastic storm, what great Godlike powers you have.

I wasn’t sucking up to it – I was being humble.

It looked even fiercer at me and I thought: Okay, it will take our house down, I shouldn’t have done that.

Then it started to laugh. Not an eerie laughter but sort of a high pitch one and seen in hindsight, I would have assumed a very deep laughter, and I think it could sense what I had just asked it, and maybe it felt recognized, admired, or something like that.

It changed its expression and the fierceness in its Samurai eyes withered and a warmth came through.

We had eye contact as I mustered the courage to look into its eyes, because I didn’t understand its laughter – was it spiteful on the account of a mere human coming for a visit on the wing of a prayer?

And what I asked for: Was a prayer. Afterwards, I recognized that.

Looking into its eyes was probably one of the bravest metaphysical things I have done in my life, that’s how fierce it was. I felt it recognized it as courage, but being courageous was the last thing on my mind.

It simply nodded in a way that made me feel safe and calm, and suddenly I catapulted back into the kitchen with my hearing fully restored.
I was shaking – at that time, I had never seen or experienced anything like it.
So, before going back into the room where we slept, I sat myself down at the kitchen table and chained smoked some Camels. I had to come into myself again.

Doing that, I could hear the storm going down. The sound of it went quieter, no more howling from the trees, the windows, and the house. No tiles flying around.
It didn’t get calm – it became a normal storm that couldn’t harm anything, but on the other hand, you wouldn’t want to go out in it.

Going back into the room where we slept, my daughter said: Listen, Daddy, the noise is gone. Yes, sweetheart, it is, maybe the storm is about to end.
It wasn’t. It kept on for hours and I could hear trees coming down at the edge of the forest, which was close to the house up the road and over the fields. 

I later found out that what I had encountered was a being of the weather, known as a Deity in ancient mythology. The encounter made me understand on a very deep spiritual, metaphysical level: That they are real. At that time, I had no idea about that and it wasn’t within my framework of metaphysics and thereby not expected: So, I can rule that expectation out: That we often see what we expect or has a place in our consciousness. No power of suggestion here. I can still rule that out – so for me: A genuine experience and the Gatekeeper of that realm had let me through.

In the aftermath, after the storm, 30 percent of the trees had fallen. The roads couldn’t be used for days, since they had to cut them up in order to transport them away in most of the country and in Sweden too. Roofs were down, traffic lights, electricity lines. Most were down. The aftermath took a week to get back to normal.
Our landlord said: Well, wasn’t it that stormy around here, not much damage really in comparison to the other farmhouses around?

My personal aftermath took years to process and understand, and when I decided: I don’t need to understand this – I just need to know that it is so, that led me to this: Try not to solve every mystery in this world – try living with it!

I sometimes see the Deities of the plants and animals, spring, summer as I have written about before. This maybe was a one-time encounter, based on approaching it with a prayer, requested in a state of Humble as never before.

© 2020 Soren Dreier


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