The Tracker
Stalking the Ghosts of Loss
Everyone leaves a trail. It doesn’t matter if you are an escaped convict, a school bus driver, a deer, or a ninja. Everyone leaves a trail.
I am a Tracker. I find and follow those trails. It is not like you might think, however. It is not a matter of simply looking for tracks on the ground, or scone crumbs dropped from kitchen to den. No. We each leave a ripple in Time. Our passing impacts the environs we pass through. As we walk through the forest the animals around us go silent or flee. Those animals encounter other animals, and they in turn are startled… or curious. Our scent we leave behind permeates the air. Hummingbirds, repulsed by the smell, avoid the flower tainted with the nano-particles of cologne settled upon its petals. Mosquitos are drawn to the exhalation of CO2 as we breathe. The cumulative effect of these minor disturbances creates a dynamic alteration on the behavior and natural rhythms of the natural world. These are all taken into account, a 3D map of the environment forms in the mind. The vortices of disruption create their own trail, like the ripples of smoke following someone smoking a cigarette.
Then there is the electromagnetic field of polarities and fields of ectoplasmic residues. Animals – such as horses and deer – in their natural and unviolated state, leave patches of blue shimmering in their passage upon the land, while birds leave eddies of green in the air. Humans, well, they leave blotches of angry red and tumultuous olive green, unless they are meditative and peaceful, in which case their trails are marked by golden and rose. These too are taken into consideration when the Tracker is set upon the trail of the one they are seeking.
And finally, we sense the activities within the supernatural and the realms of the spirits that cohabitate this world with us, unseen, but present nonetheless. There are the helpers – angels, some call them, or guardian spirits – that guard, guide and protect the worthy. Demons there are as well. They feed off the fear and violence generated by the passing of someone wicked of heart… and cultivates such individuals as a farmer does his cattle. Sprites and fairies (as they are known in popular literature) titter and enliven the Fields of Eternity when a gracious and kind person or animal moves in heightened positive awareness through the domains of spirit. Children and dogs pass with a sweetness swirling around them. Goblins and gnomes cackle and reek with glee when their compatriots of hostility and hatred further shatter the Fields of Eternal Desolation. Mad dogs and madmen, ravers all, lay waste as they stomp and shudder in passage.
Electromagnetic and bioenergetic markers of consciousness, or thought-forms – one’s Astral Avatar – exist as semi-autonomous aspects of our Being, different and separate from the three Souls (Earth, Underworld, Celestial). These thought-forms are coalesced by means of mental imprint upon the field of life force about us and are the vehicles of emotion and memory, of our happiness and fear. The Astral Avatar is self-defined, self-created, woven of the substance of life force. They are, in essence, our Personalities. Astral Avatars appear to have independent function, but in actuality, they are but the projections of our consciousness into the aethers about us. The Astral Avatar can become misaligned with the axis of body/mind/soul when it suffers trauma, blackouts (due to drugs, alcohol, anesthesia, a blow to the head, etc), or indulgences of unethical, immoral, or debilitating behaviors.
I am the Tracker. Not a name, or title, or appellation one takes easily. Trackers know of these denizens of the spiritual realms, of the eddies in Time, because we are, ourselves, a Familiar, an entity of the Far Realms come into the world as flesh and sense. For the most part, unless we choose otherwise, we move stealthily, unnoticed, among the inhabitants of Spirit. We have made an art of our neutrality. As a Tracker passes through the rhythms of Time no ripples are created, no turbulences of passage are left in our wake. A Tracker’s purpose is to find and return to ground, the lost. Ours is not to intercede in a dispute, nor to engage in battle.
It is my task, my honor, to set forth upon the trace of one who is disenfranchised, devoid of feeling, despairing of life, lost in the eddies of Time. I am the Tracker.
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