Appendix: The Wet Spot

The Wet Spot

I was a single mother, in my early 20’s.  I had gone back to university to complete my second degree.  It was an intense year – my youngest son would stay awake until 10pm most nights, so I would not begin my homework until after that time.  My personal practice of yoga and the weekly class I attended had become my sanctity.

One day during the fall, I was in my room walking to the closet, and I stepped on something wet.  The floor was carpeted, and my first thought was that my cat had peed on the floor.  As I knelt down to smell the wet-spot, it smelled clean and fresh.  I touched it.  The spot was sopping wet.  I smelled it again. There was no musty smell, it did not smell like urine – there was, in fact, no smell at all. 

I looked up at the ceiling – maybe something leaked from the roof?  No drips or water stains could be seen.  Then I became worried – what if a water pipe had burst and leaked from underneath?  Yet, there was no sound of water, and no leaks into the room below.  I was perplexed, and simply decided the mystery would likely resolve itself once the water evaporated.

A day went by.  Two days.  Three.  Ten.  The wet-spot did not change – it did not change in size, it did not evaporate, it did not change in scent.  It remained sopping-wet and unaltered.

So, on day 10, Friday evening, after my sons had gone to their father’s for the weekend, I did what any young single mother would do at the beginning of the weekend.  I cleaned my house.

My cat loved the vacuum.  He would chase and attack it as I cleaned the floor.  We methodically worked together to clean the house room by room.  The last room to be vacuumed that night was my bedroom.  I approached the door, which was closed.  The cat stopped in mid-attack as I cracked the door open – his hair stood on-end, he arched into a hiss, and ran downstairs.  Odd, I thought…

As I opened the door further, my hair also stood on end, though I could not perceive to what I was responding.  I began to walk in the room, and with each step I felt a stronger and stronger repulsion – my stomach was turning, and everything in me wanted to run away.  I looked and began to walk toward the wet-spot.  My body began to lurch from the growing spasm in my stomach.  I quickly turned away and ran out of the room, closing the door behind me.

I went downstairs and sat on the couch.  I was distressed and began to panic.  I didn’t know what to do.  My fear seemed silly to me.  After an hour of fretting, I finally decided to go back into the room.  As I walked upstairs, I could feel my mounting fear, and as I opened the door and entered the room, the same feelings of repulsion returned.

I walked toward the wet-spot again, but then felt called to go to my altar, which sat between the window and my bed, some 10 feet away from the wet-spot. On my altar sat a few crystals and stones, pieces of plants and herbs, pictures and trinkets – nothing in any particular order or placement.  There was also a small container of leather bits and pieces.  I picked up this container and a few of the stones and crystals.  I sat on the floor between the altar and the wet-spot.

It was as if someone was whispering in my ear, directing my actions.  I was instructed to lay out the crystals and leather bits in a pattern that looked like a star, with the main lines or rays pointing from the wet-spot to the window.  Then I was to open the window a few inches, and burn sage and cedar, which were drying on my altar.  I took out my shell for burning the herbs in, and lit them so they began to smolder.  I blew into them, and burned so much that the room was filled with smoke.  Then I left the room and closed the door.

I went downstairs for about an hour, distracting myself with food and TV.  When I returned to the room, I walked in and there was no feeling of fear, no hair standing on-end…  And, no wet-spot.

What had remained for 10 days unaltered had disappeared in a mere hour.

I was baffled, and sat to contemplate what had just happened.  Two things became clear to me.  One was that it seemed, to me, that some entity or teacher was making itself known through the wet-spot.  The other was a set of teachings…  About fear and meeting fear, the appearance and nature of reality, my beliefs, and about energy and channeling energy through different means including the use of sacred shapes and designs.