Materials to hand: a way through the Red Sea: waves to each side, drawn back, stand high. The ripples in the sand are fishes of the Sun.
When a big wave passes over, when the Occupying urgency isn’t here, my depleted system has to grow again – slowly – seeking equilibrium. Big outgoings from deep within are for me, profoundly therapeutic. Yet the shifting hurts. Protest! It is one thing to ride the tide: it is another to be tossed like an impudent surfer in its wake, or thrown among the rounding scuttling wet pebbles as it drops back into the further oncoming of itself. Then I droop over the bones and stiffen with the cold, and feel confused. Sing over the bones, as the women did of old, and wait!
In my recent post Siva Tests Parvati, I mentioned Rahu, the Vedic god of the Moon’s north node cycle. Rahu was a demon: he crept up close to where the gods feasted on their immortality and – like Prometheus – dared to sip their elixir! He was discovered at once: they severed his head from his body. They condemned him to eternity with that sublime taste – a nectar, a mouth without a body.
Yet Rahu brings us – like the gift of fire – that tantalizing glimpse. He is a non-entity: the field-frequency of a moving point where Moon’s orbit around the earth intersects Earth’s orbit around the Sun. This point moves around the Zodiac, completing itself every 18.6 years. Rahu’s antipodeal point, south of the equator, is called Ketu. Rahu signifies what we accumulate: Ketu reveals what we have to let go. They echo the equatorial oscillation of Capricorn and Cancer tropics, the song of humankind.
Rahu is a paradox – awakening, charisma and delusion.
For many of us, Rahu is the archetype of the glorious illusion, the glitz, the power and quest of life. He is the “tantalus”. He is the inner tuition through which “the Shepherd leads himself back to Himself” … “the One most fully present in His seeming absence” … “honour Him with integrity or He will swallow you whole” … “there is no where in heaven or hell where I AM not” … “I do not believe – I know” … (Rahu’s cosmic Love song by Jeanette Kishori McKenzie)
Here is my brand new sketch of him:
His body is his own fantasy.
I like also this online image of Rahu: here he rides a lioness. How the Ganga and other rivers from the Himalayan watershed leap like lioness from the snows, and down through the deep valleys like Solomon‘s gazelle !
I went to visit Jeanette in Chichester. I left my camera behind last time, and we decided not to entrust it to the post: but the agenda transformed to a practical Rahu seminar, getting the boat ready! She teaches people. His lovesong in her body, is Let it Be, sing with it, be with, move with it, dance into its interest, difficulty and irregular unusualness – let bones grow and edges be crisp. I had a bandaged right wrist – a tendon weakness and OW – which she eased at once, by telling me to put big toe on ground like a root, and triad it with little toe and heel: and to stroke out the arm issue into the air, like pulling out little sticks from a beavers dam – after a bit it suddenly falls in and flows, and the obstruction passes out. My right arm still gets cross about last summer’s overwork in my mother’s garden: I kept on hacking and clipping way past the pain No-No.
The pulling out sticks and thorns from a wailing joint is the same as encouraging them to float out from my soul. It all takes time.
Rahu is this space with everything passing through:
Rahu’s lovesong is in my main problem which is the TIREDNESS. I had it at primary school, coming home from the overload of impressions, to cry and whinge. It still feels this way. Pain, psychic interior pain. The awareness brings up all the times I blasted on through the tiredness barrier; so I get it now, with dividends. I am a stranded dolphin. Too bad about the equinoctial flow and the joys of spring! Honour the god by easing along with what I am. My headache, the wear and tear of life today, pulls up many, many stuck voices of tiredness and skinlessness. They too have the right to breathe and to open. Reality.
We drove quickly to the sea coast, the tide was in, and I thought of my brand new folding bike and the empty Suffolk coastline, eagerly.
Some of Jeanette’s creative waterfall processes through my system, too. She made another AMAZING LUNCH, it began with juiced beetroot, apple, carrot, celery and lemons. It was EARTH-ILY DELICIOUS, but didn’t perk me up yet. It continued with beetroot and apple grated salad, and a warm mix of millet and veg, garnished with yeast flakes and hempseed, oil and balsamic. Fabulous. I sat on an inflated exercise ball – very nice for rotating lower spine and hips – this made me feel better.
Women in labour watch women work!
Rahu gathers together, indraws the threads, pulls the strings, Rahu’s outrageous love song is pure Uranian, a tale of the Unexpected, love it, live with it, receive it in full like a wave right through, and let it go.
So we went to the sea for a moment, stood on the shingle in the salt, saw Her waves slapping in aslant, biting cold wind, sour little English houses and closed icecream parlour and carpark. Rahu by the sea, the great Mere. “Rahu takes the given dissonance right to the very edge where it falls into harmony.” For Jeanette the dissonance opens her into a yoga that explores and flirts with it. For me the dissonance is my recurrent Fatigue and dislike of public conveyance – sitting upright in buses or train. Try to be okay with it.
And my lack of esoteric curiosity these days, in books or studying. Where do I practice? In the visceral deep feminine sea, in elements, in earth, in absorbing an Elder principle and letting it come through my writing – though I leave the methods and recipes to others. We are One, and I have Kabbalist “recipes” which are the Same. So nowadays I let it flower, and meet my sisters.
I went to Chichester to collect my camera, and I came home with a powerful interior snapshot – I was too lazy to take a photo – of me and Jeanette by the brisk bouncing sea, ready to launch.
The goddess in Rahu is a big Steamer with proper funnels … (a long oil ship went by, on the horizon). Siva tests Parvati with the love song we hear, again and again and again. It tosses us around in mountains, rivers and the sea. Be a Temple for the passing through of the Wave. Thinking again of the lady who dived into the cold, cold and foaming sea, and let nine waves swim right over her before she surfaced with an eldritch seagull cry from the deep.
In this light, I am turned to, and receiving the god. The god comes to me in any form of Siva. This is the nub. There are disclosures and disguises of the god. But for an undisclosed time now, I want privacy with the god. I am different child houses being sketched, as in House Life. Tired or no tired, the god arrives in my being, drags me around a bit, and shows how all is drawn together.
Hm. The snapshot is in my minds eye now, of Rahu, Jeanette by the sea, a drawing – I can get her right by looking at the video in her link. Our embarkation is a picture she posted on facebook of a woman silhouette by the sea – Rahu is in both our minds for starters: and I see together with it, the Roof of the World Manasarovar photo, with a sadhu bathing in it; and my 1987 drawings of me and the Shadow coming out of the sea – my spirit child, Malo.
http://www.cindyvallar.com/superstitions.html … (about the albatross, stormy petrel & mermaids)
The Stormy Petrel is up and running! skimming the water bounce bounce … and me on the big blue ball while she makes lunch … and a couple of the St Malo waves/sea-scapes. Rahu with each breaking wave. And the Alchemy through the Red Sea. O yes!
List of ingredients comes together for the pot. And a hint of all those houses, with the 1987 Snake approaching my House. Ha ha!
We females each harbour and walk with Ms Fanny Cave in our inbetween – the Great Estate of Private Property. My TIREDS may be sensitive to a cosmic-earth cycle of rise and fall. It rises, it drains me, it is renewed. The Archetypes are energy fields, they tweak the system; they laugh at my temporary outline. The same RUACH within every form and disguise is the sea. And so my shoulders relax again, obey gravity, water runs off a ducks back.
Still I am tired, and have to go and walk my friend’s dog this afternoon; but what can I do. The cosmic, earthickal Magick trickles, flickers and is never fickle. It is the Power House – the Flame in a little cave.
GALLERY, sea-scapes at St Malo and Alet, 1986,
with two photos of new bike, last week
A Poem by Raat Raani. This arrived in July! Click on the drawing of Rahu 2, above, to see the comments.
A Halting Litany
(inspired by Shri Rahu)
What I thought I could never afford seeing.
Afraid of seeing,
dare not behold – too scared to ever get hold
of the Darkness,
of this inverted Light of Yours,
with its painful sharpness.
If I get it right,
You are the only power
in this surge of fear from within…
Chastity in the clothes of sin.
which is never apart from love…
Hell and Heaven and all above.
Yes and No and Not Stated.
All I have ever seen,
down to the point of the final contraction.
Every action and anyone who acts.
All the lies, all the facts.
But it’s only now that I really can feel it –
is a name for vodka
But You are 100% pure Spirit.
My adventure invites fellow travellers. I am a poet, an artist and a seer. I welcome conversation among the PHILO SOFIA, the lovers of wisdom.
This blog is a vehicle to promote also my published work – The Sacred India Tarot (with Rohit Arya, Yogi Impressions Books) and The Dreamer in the Dream – a collection of short stories (0 Books). Watch this space.
All art and creative writing in this blog is copyright © Janeadamsart 2012. May not be used for commercial purposes. May be used and shared for non-commercial means with credit to Jane Adams and a link to the web address https://janeadamsart.wordpress.com/