Walking the Land: Caves Part I

Chapter 10: Caves
Copyright 2017 Eileen Nauman

“Caves are one of my most favorite places on Mother Earth! They are her wombs and are about the act of creation, birthing, and giving life. They always make me feel protected, safe, embraced, and loved by Mother Earth. It’s just another way to get closer to her so that I can feel the incredible love she has for all her children (this includes all life on Earth), including me.

If you are drawn to caves, they can be a life-changing experience. I’ve been in many caves around the world and adored all of them. I find that the same nurturing, maternal energy is always present in them and surrounding me. However, each one is different and distinct. There are “dry” caves where there is no longer water flowing, and there are “wet” caves where there is moisture that continues to “build” stalagmites and stalactites. All of these look different in shape, width, height, and inner space. Each has unique energy based on the type of rock, the color of the rocks, and whether there are local, regional, or global lines of energy in the area.”

Here is a true story from my childhood…

I have loved caves since I was a child. Any hole, even a badger or groundhog hole, called to me. Of course, as a child, I didn’t know WHY this was so, but it was. Children never question what they feel or are drawn to. I remember one time, when I was about six years old, the family went into the Cascade Mountains of Oregon on a wonderful summer day for a Saturday picnic by a stream. When we arrived, we three kids flew off in three different directions, super curious about everything! I went toward a mountain slope that was nearby, drawn to it. I squiggled through some brush and on the other side was a cave entrance. Being an inquisitive Gemini, I walked up to it, in awe. It wasn’t a huge cave, but the opening with jutting rocks all around it in yellow, white and brown seemed pretty huge for my young eyes.

The sunlight was slanting into the entrance through the pine trees that grew around it like good-natured guardians. I went to the opening, my hand on the warm rocks and peeked inside. I stood there for a bit and felt such a strong pull from my heart to go into that cave. So, I did! Inside I found the boughs of pine trees on the sandy soil ground. There was an odor as well—one I wasn’t familiar with. I felt at home. It was more than a feeling of being welcomed. I felt embraced and well loved. I sat down against one wall in the semi-darkness. The cave was dry, and I closed my eyes, my knees drawn up against my chest, my little arms around them. I leaned back carefully until my head connected with the rocks. For some reason, they felt more like a firm pillow than hard, jutting rocks. I opened my eyes, turned around and looked. The rocks were still there, sharp, jutting and hard. I rubbed the back of my head because that’s not what I felt when I rested myself against them.

I sat back, resumed my position and rested my head against the rocks once more. The moment I did so, they became soft. I could feel my head sinking into them just a bit, like when you put your head on the pillow at night in your own bed. This time, I just accepted it. My child’s mind was simple, and I didn’t get into why it happened. I felt happy and safe, and closed my eyes. This time, it felt as if a woman’s arms slid around my shoulders, large, plump, warm and comforting. I loved this feeling! I don’t know how long I leaned against that cave wall.

I heard my mother’s voice calling me. Instantly, I opened my eyes and scrambled for the entrance. I knew she was probably looking for me. And there she was, on the other side of the bushes, looking into the cave and looking at me. I never questioned how my mother knew where I was, because since the time I could remember, she always seemed to be there when it was important. We could never play hide ‘n seek with her, because she always found us!

“Mommy! Mommy!” I cried, jerking my finger toward the cave, “there’s a PILLOW in there! I found a pillow! Come see it!”

My mother raised a brow. “Eileen, you’ve been gone for over half an hour. You know you’re not supposed to take off without telling me where you’re going first.”

I lost some of my excitement, hearing the disappointment in her tone. “But, Mommy, I found this place—”

“It’s called a cave,” she said, smiling a little, easing between the bushes, coming to join me. “You said you went inside it?”

“Yes!” I said, suddenly excited once more, pointing again at the cave entrance. “There’s a pillow in there, Mommy! You have to see it! The rocks go soft. You have to see it!”

She smiled. Years later I came to realize that smile was a smile that told me she knew a lot about something, whether she told me or not. In this case, she knew about caves.

“Wait a minute,” she told me sternly, gripping my hand, halting me. “Did you ask permission to enter it, first?” she asked, motioning to the entrance. She released my hand, knelt down on one knee, bringing me into the curve of her body so I could lean against it, her arm around my waist. “Everything is alive,” she told me softly, motioning to the cave. “Rocks are alive. Hills, valleys and mountains are alive.”

“You’ve said that before,” I said, staring at the entrance and then up at her.

“And what have I taught you? When you approach one of our relatives, like this cave? What are you supposed to do?”

I brightened and smiled. “To always tell them my name! And I did! I waited at the front of it and told them who I was.”

She nodded. “Very good. What else?”

“Ummm…I forgot….”

“Well,” she said, “this cave is a home, Eileen. And it belongs to someone. This is just like our house, only it doesn’t have a door on it. What would you do if you came up to this house without a door?”

“Oh!” I said, excitement rising in my voice, “I’d tell them why I’m visiting them!”

She smiled, nodded and squeezed me. “Right, you would. So did you?”

I nodded, “Yes, I did, Mommy. I thought this was like our home. I wondered why there was no door on it, but I gave my name and asked if I could come in.”

“Very good,” she praised. “And what response did you get?”

“I heard this woman’s voice tell me to come in, to see her home.”

“Do you know who she was?”

I shook my head. “No…but she was very nice. I didn’t see her, but I heard her voice in my head. She was happy to see me, I know she was.”

“I imagine she was,” and my mother stood, holding my hand once more. “Tell me about this pillow?”

“Can we go in now, Mommy?”

“Yes, we can. She invited you into her home already, so we can go visit her again.”

I gripped my mother’s hand, racing and scrambling with excitement. “You have to see that pillow!” I said, tugging and trying to pull her along a little faster. She was looking around and I could feel her change. My mother said everyone had energy and colors around them, like the shape of an egg. Sometimes, I would see colors around her, sort of like an Easter egg, so pretty.

In the half light as I tugged her forward, I could see her energy, which she called an aura, around her. It was a colorful and bright. I always knew when she was happy because her colors were clear and clean looking! She was happy now.

As we rounded a corner of rock that stuck out in the cave tunnel, I yelped, “There’s my pillow, Mommy!” and I jabbed my finger at the place where I’d sat previously.

She came over and released my hand. “Show me,” she said.

I placed my small hand on it. Now, it felt jagged and hard. “This is it!”

She then placed her hand over it. “Hmmmmm, this is very nice. Do you know the woman who brought the pillow to you?”

I stood back, blinking. “No….”

My mother sat down with her back to the cave wall, patting the soil next to her. “Come sit. Show me where you were sitting.”

I did so. And darned if those hard rocks didn’t soften the moment I rested the back of my head against them! I looked up to see my mother smiling. It was a smile like a secret she knew. “See,” I said proudly, “this is my pillow!”

“And so it is. Mother Earth is the woman who lives in this and all caves, it was her who softened it to welcome you. She loves little children. Their hearts are loving and their mind is trusting.”

“Mother Earth?” I said, looking around. “Can I see her?”

“She’s right here,” and my mother gestured around the cave. “These are the bones of her body. Her bones create caves.”

“Is that why I felt invisible arms coming around me, Mommy?” I asked.

“Oh?” Up went one eyebrow.

“I laid back, closed my eyes, my head in my pillow and I felt arms coming around me, like when you hold and rock me in the rocker.”

“That’s Mother Earth. She was holding you, Eileen. She loves you. It’s her way of letting you know that. It feels good, doesn’t it?”

I gave a nod. “It feels really good, Mommy.” I looked in awe around the cave. “And I love caves!” This was the first time I’d ever been in one.

My mother laughed and took my hand, squeezing it. “Next time? Before you enter a cave? Make sure none of our relatives, like a wild animal, live inside it. This is their home, like we have a home. You wouldn’t go into a stranger’s house without permission, would you? Of course you wouldn’t. And from the smell in here? I’d say a cougar lives here. You’re lucky. That cat is probably out hunting this morning. But always, from now on? Be watchful for a wild animal living here.”

“I will, Mommy. I promise….”

My mother, Ruth, once told us many years later that she was a Druid. She taught us respect for all living things. We were, as she put it, one big family here on Earth. At seventy-three years old, I can look back on my deep connection with Mother Earth, grateful to have all these wonderful experiences, thanks to my parents. Many people will say these experiences are magical. But for me, because of the way I was raised, this was “normal”. My mother said we were in the “Flow” of the Great Mother Goddess. My father would say that it came from the Great Spirit. I’ve come to understand there are many labels, but they all mean one thing: We are one with everything. And if we follow simple, heart-felt protocols, we can partake and become connected to all living things and feel loved.