It's definitely not simply a symbol. My inner work has involved primarily two things: writing + gnosticteachings = death of the ego of alcoholism. I wrote a stack of material to work out the damage of Catholic Soul Murder. I published the third draft (not written to be published, but I was unemployed with an injury). In it I explain how Pizarro conquered the Inca in one evening with one little boat load of men, and with little resistance. My explanation turns out to match one of the Indian myths of the feathered serpent. After I wrote that material, I threw it on the shelf and ignored it for a long time. Leaving the building one morning where I wrote the material, I saw a tunnel of raven flying over the entrance to the property. When I got to the highway I could see an Ouroboros made of raven stretching from the southern to the northern horizon, weaving back and forth over route "93" It led me to my house. I thought I was projecting a serpent froman earlier dream, but my first wife looked out the window and saw it.
Roughly twenty years later I have an ego vanish in a feminine light (posted in testimonies) thanks to your help. A few months later, thousands of screaming raven popped by one evening. I spent the day reading Serpent in the Sky: The High Wisdom of Ancient Egypt by John Anthony West (which I cannot over recommend), went out side to snow blow, and found myself being scoulded by a cloud of raven, covering everything in sight, for over an hour. I had divorced my first wife and so lost my only eye witness. So I tried to pretend it really didn't happen that way. So on the second coming of feathered serpent, my second and final wife also looked out the window like the first, and also exclaimed in surprise (and again letting me know I was not hallucinating).
I'm a quarter Algonquin indian, and I live on formerly Algonquin land. All indians (with universal parallels) worshipped a Feathered Serpent, The Great Spirit, The Divine Mother, who in my case took the time to scold her wretched, decrepid, loathsome little worm of a sleepwalking monkey because in my trance of vigil I tried to forget Her. If I had only found you sooner, always saying "Never forget your Divine Mother!" But I think she knows I didn't recognize her at first. I'm like a worm in the mud, ya know.
JA West gives his book away for free in pdf (google it) and in the interest of sharing my healing, my inner work is free to read at
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