A Walk with Easter Bluebells

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Happy Easter!  On a long walk in Hertfordshire with camera – which cannot capture that deep purple fiery glitter coming through the ground, so let’s just imagine it.

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World turns upside down: sky through the ground

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Sky, earth, water

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living creature

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living body

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worlds meet: as above so below

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tuning fork

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like a bow

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relationship, dancers

tingly tangle!

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landscape every which way

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Friend’s astrology on the Tree of Life

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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.  See also Aquariel

All art and creative writing in this blog is copyright © Janeadamsart 2012-2017. 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/

The Mellowing

Woodland 1986

Woodland 1986

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Walking in the beech woods near Great Missenden, I was thinking about being the childhood, and I wrote this down:

jane & quince at ventonwyn copy

Elder age is not only four
hop skip jump,
but the Mellow
just as good.

No repeat
but savour
through and through
the NOW

my elder age’s
same unlettered quality
to find itself
not a drag!

What a gem. It came when I bent down to see what it is like to be just child-high off the ground. And then stood tall again. It isn’t about recapturing that odd, rhapsodic little girl physically and interiorly. The whole organism is by now as different as a fruit tree from the sapling. The organs and pulses and hormones and appearance are changed. The pressure of life in children and kittens and lambs makes them skip irrepressibly, enchantingly.   (It still skips in me at 67). The pressure of life in we older folk has a slower tempo, the character of a river rather than mountain brook … which carved its way … the same ESSENCE unbrokenly unique.   The way to enter the stream is here now.

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little boy by the sea 1954

little boy by the sea 1954

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Childhood is full of hassle – growing pains and hateful grownups and bad dreams and tedium and fear and need. Elderhood is full of hassle – just the same. It isn’t about what I become, it is being.   Savour the slow distillation at this point: river of leaf mould, sky and rain, river great snake slipping along its curving channel, the revelation turns discreet, subtle and lingering, an old wine.   It has to find its way through anxious mental arteries and conditioned stone walls and erratic absence and getting weary & cross. The marvel and mystery is here for the looking, and I love it so.

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Little girl in a meadow, 1955

Little girl in a meadow, 1955

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The mellowing. The living mystery is in the mellowing.   The child’s ferment is the bouquet in the elder one. You need a trained palate to really taste the wine: to become still where the child goes skip hop.   And then it takes you by the sea!

I’m reminded of Yehudi who played the violin perfectly when he was a little boy. When he grew up he lost it (terrifyingly) and had to learn how to do it: fingering, posture, technique, tone, bowing and behaviour.   He became a great humanitarian and yogi, and a musical ambassador for peace.

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Yehudi Menuhin joyously 1986

Yehudi Menuhin joyously 1986

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This tells me that the creature the child grows up into has a special responsibility and value, because he or she does and is all kinds of things that the eternal inner child could not yet. Life is not just easy, at any stage of the game.

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Red roofs, Cornwall, 1956

Red roofs, Cornwall, 1956

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Elisa & Mary in Iona - 2016

Elisa & Mary in Iona – 2016

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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.

aquariel link

All art and creative writing in this blog is copyright © Janeadamsart 2012-2014. 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/

Tales of the Watershed – Chinese Torch Prints

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fish by Steven Szegedy Szuts

fish by Steven Szegedy Szuts

Dreams No.89   May 1975

IF YOU were Chinese …

If who was Chinese?   Me, you or history?

The dream is a scribe of “his” story.   The dream tells me with some authority, that if I was Chinese and wise like a mandarin, I would know very well that I make my own bed to sleep on. The floor on which I lie for the night to imprint “his” story in my fibre, should be roughened.   Otherwise it will have no “key”.   My pillow would then slip, and no message come to my hearing.

This seems to be an ancient Oriental tradition.   As you make your bed, so you live.   A page too smooth cannot take the ink from heaven and the underworld. The fibre holds the script.   The rationale for this insight comes to me with all the force of Chinese respect for ancestry, and with the revelation of a brush scribing pictures.

So far so good.

Am I a printing press?   And from which civilisation did Renaissance Europe take the idea?

They say to me in this dream, roughen a plank on the wooden floor with a flaming torch to char the grain.   Lay paper on the burnt patch, and your pillow on the paper.   And lo! when you raise your head from sleep the paper will be printed with the mark of your life.

old tao sage

This principle seems unfathomably relevant to living, creating and suffering. A wisdom within it glows – something to do with fire which heats, burns out old wood and hollows a primitive boat for voyaging.   In the spirit of fire are interwoven myriad patterns of incarnation.   I gaze into the embers of flame, red, yellow, blue, violet, sometimes even lucid green. In fragile castles of carbon, whole histories fall to ash.   A dreamer is a traveller on the spot with his or her ear to the ground.

Certain prints of life are stroked out into the crinkle of slow flame; they glow.   It is breaking my heart!   how some people can play with fire and create these without having to make beds to lie in, or go to sleep at all.   These people – like my sister – have wonderful ideas.   They conjure filigree landscape from random traceries of the wood’s charred grain, to the delight of all who behold.

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B gave me some sheets of thick paper to experiment with.   And look, my sister and her friend Jemima at school are here in the room with me;   in their play, they made five or six colour pictures by holding the burning torch to the thick paper.   The sharp, incisive lines of their pictures have the glory of a Byzantine woodcut.   The flame crinkled or split lines or curves along the papery grain, along which they drew. I held those pictures in my hands.   I gazed at them envious, and humble, before such mastery.   B said my sister was an ordinary girl – so I never saw the power and clarity of her imagination, till now.   How does she do it?   Won’t she show me?   Then I could make a card like this, for his birthday next week.   I want him to value something from me, some taste and texture to delight in, like new brown bread, or an earthen pot with lapis lazuli glaze.   Then he couldn’t possibly tell me I’m a “spiritual desert”.

I was in his room later.   He went to get loo-paper for me to blow my nose.   We agreed to see each other less often for a while.   At least, our dialogue is not a wound.   Can we shake out the feathers, allow our own colours to grow, be less mutually invaded when we meet?   Hope broke shyly through into space.   The mood changed, and became sensitive to one another.   It could smile and laugh with our trouble.

I showed him three of those prints my clever sister made – the tension of her inner eye and the delicacy of her touch.   “Look!”   I said.   “My sister made those. What an artist she is.” Here’s a black and white one of a labyrinth, an immense industrial landscape somewhere in the North Country. To the left, a group of business magnates in top-hats and frock-coats, barter nineteenth-century expansion.   They haven’t refined the technology yet.   Smoke billows from chimneys, stove-pipes and flues, and to the right a black city opens to the foot, an intricate tangle of streets and sooty towers – a pool of life that is still a furnace.

So she too knew Liverpool!   And here’s a green one, the deft caricature of an earthy old man bent like a gnome.   The third one shows a field of long summer grass deep enough to wade in, rich with clover and wild garlic, active with the multi-level hierarchy of small creatures.   All her Tragic Stories are here, to walk with – the stories she tells to herself with chewed stems of grass for girls’ hair and bits of bent wire for boys’ legs. She is a sturdy, short-sighted child. She mumbles her song through field and farmyard, utterly absorbed in the drama at play in her hands.   I follow sometimes, and listen.

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I am burning to do it too.   I want to release that vision heat-held in wood and paper.   I thirst for the water of life, that slow dew of remembering …

What is really happening is that a baby is sitting here in this room with the burnt patch on the floor, a baby with dark eyes.   And the drawing that he, she, I, am doing so carefully along the advice of the ageless sages collapsed, and broke into a wild infant scrawl.

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child caught tasting pebbles - Art-Not-Doing 1987

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**

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.

Gene Keys Golden Path Program
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.

aquariel link

All art and creative writing in this blog is copyright © Janeadamsart 2012-2014. 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/

Oh Aquarius, Here be Dragons

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Blank on the Map, 1987

Blank on the Map, 1987

Here be dragons …

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Around Bridgewater are lakes and floods and evacuated villages and utterly distressed families, week after week.  Along south Devon’s coast between Exeter and Dawlish, the railway line fell into the sea.  All over the west country is wet emergency, a rising water table, and storm: while the east coast and its villas crumble into the tide.  Climate change.

somerset floods, Moorland near Bridgewater, daily mail

Think of these people.  Government officially visits and ponces around, yet hocked our economy reserves to an overseas power, to build an idiot HS2 railway for future businessmen.   We may be vulnerable to that power’s high hand in later decades, when it calls in the debt.  When Cuts are made all over voluntary organizations, hospitals and the needy folk, government borrows yet deeper from outside our shores, to maintain the blind engine, and to compete.

somerset floods, western gazette

There is little point in blaming central government or environment agencies.  We put them there ourselves, whomever we believe in !  Central government cannot act in any other way but foolishly, or with the surface tension of multiple conflicting interests.  The party system gives some safeguard. It blocks any one gaining the upper hand;  but conserves the lowest common denominator.

This is how my and your average mind works :  the rationale is our individual gear-automatic closed car gridlock.  Abandon ship.  Follow the monster and complain.

somerset floods, daily mail

Each personage disagrees/is in conflict with all the others!

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Or:  begin the change within ourselves. Connect:  build Solar networks in a delta of individual ways, which freely interact and move among the atoms into capillaries, roots and veins.   Life – the roots of life activate small flames of the soul, of friendship, and of neighbourly assistance:  the ancient work of the Sun.   Who needs to Channel the Masters?   Their sacrament is here in me, in you, and among ourselves, unlimited, touching Earth through our feet and hands.   We must know our field, our neighbour and our community.

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Menorah Tree of Sapphires

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zodiac with ophiocus - Version 2

The Aquarian Age is a human dawn through seeming chaos and catastrophe.  Aquarius is the Water Pourer – literally. We will no longer pass the buck, or require governments to do the caring.  We know the Divine particle is here within:  we see the old ways are chaos, dead and grey.  They are an inertia momentum against the brake, and it – the consumer economy – rides against it yet awhile, building a bow-wave of bigger vehicles and more and more cancer.  Sooner or later the frictional imbalance gets too much, and the machine breaks apart.  The fuel cannot reach it.

We are not inert.  We are conscious here and now, and we act.

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From another perspective:  Avalon is a place where dragons gather, peace.  The dragons are telluric.  You can see the earth-serpent visually from the air – along the winding Parrett river.

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And …  the Blanks on the Map?  Why, here be dragons.

My friend Genie left a comment on a certain dragon in my previous post:  “Lying on a bed in Goa, covered with warm Ayurvedic oils I saw from the corner of the hooded eye, claws edging a padded paw.  The Dragon of herbal power showing its fire.”

Touche!  For that is precisely what I saw, when I dreamed and drew this sequence in 1987:

Dragon's paw

Dragon’s paw

 

These are a few of a hundred dragons I drew.  It was the day I changed from drawing with my right hand, to drawing with my left, and brought the two sides together.  It was because I was going too fast;  I slowed right down, so as to draw and write consciously with the left-handed difficulty.  The line changed and became powerful, it spoke. The inner dragon felt like my sore ego, and bits of creative self – marginalised and shadowy.  So I helped him to come out of the cave and be seen, and thrive.  And coming out, these days, is a Big Issue, individually.

This post today, is about interior growing, and exterior frets. 

Movements in humanity begin with one individual reaching turning-point.  A grain of sand is the first to shift a landslide.  It took just one – Buddha, Yeshua, Sankara – to change the edifice of their times and start afresh.   Inertia swings back, for that is the nature of our unevolved bodymind, but … there remains our hidden “I”, the human capacity to move mountains and start a butterfly.

These daffodil buds awaken in many dark places, and begin something new.   Not me alone.   Us.   Morphic resonance at critical mass.  In the last couple days, my daughter and two others, spoke this same thought – with some surprise – that a single person starts the change, not a “group” or “society”.

young daffodils and narcissus

In the Aquarian age, the water table rises, walls are broken, and we put our faith no more in “heroes”, but in the heart. 

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This post is a mixed bag!   And I am still travelling with Jung’s Red Book.  I shall be, for many months to come.

He met Elijah and Salome, and reflected on forethought and pleasure.  The “forethought” is Promethean, the seer of the race.  He says:  “If a form does not contain and compress pleasure with itself, it cannot reach the higher, since it always flows like water from above to below.  All pleasure when left alone, flows into the deep sea and ends in the deathly stillness of dispersal into unending space.”

somerset levels, near Langport

somerset levels, near Langport

I find Jung’s thought and journey profoundly Kabbalistic, on force and formation:  and even Indian: the nature of Siva and Shakti:  the standing still, the moving pulse.   If we go deep enough, we are shown everything.

Pleasure can become jnana, meditation, advaita.   But ferment and friction are Nature’s requirement to keep the world turning and birthing, and sometimes our ferment is acute and jagged, and seeks pleasure hopelessly, in all the sticking out peaks of the graph.   It is ephemeral and indeed elemental, as the earth’s aeons of fire and ice before life.

“Both pleasure and forethinking are equally old and in nature intimately one.  Only in man does the separate existence of both principles become apparent.”

I feel the human race survives through enduring the CONSEQUENCES of our excess, perhaps time and time again:  excess, contraction, tidal, breath.   This is plainly obvious in individuals, in the seeds of the whole.  Each individual begins the human race (but has no beginning, really).   We now face a difficult Environment, who no longer sleeps while we ravage her.  She answers back with earth and water, wind and fire.   She is alive, she speaks to us.   Dialogue is evolution.

In the tiny well of humanity in my fractal depth, are eternal verities.

Just caught this rainbow in my kitchen window!

Just caught this rainbow in my kitchen window!

The Dancing Yeti wrote and said he likes my picture of the heroin addict in Piccadilly (in my previous post).  I just found – further along in the same sketchbook/1969 – a painting the young man did, and gave me at the time;  so here are both.   Thanks, Kevan, for the prompt!

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>>>>

The following day (11 February), I had to add this mini-post:  
A further thought, on the Serpent or earth-dragon.  The snake is electro-magnetic current’s circuitry around the plus and minus poles:  the man, the woman and their arena which extends the Child.  The binary must open into a triad, and it cannot do this without the snake in the Tree.  The snake brings in the whole element of conscious knowledge, temptation and the Fruit.  When man and woman are a triad – Adam, Eve and Snake – a vast dream pageant of history opens, to embody and toil with the sweat of their brow:  their childrens’ childrens’ children, and the dark lagunas which thicken wherever the ways twist over and become confused – the tangled web.

Arcana 6 Lovers - Version 2..

Ah!  how Genesis gets misunderstood!  All coming from JHVH, returns to JHVH, the One Reality.  The snake is – wherever evolution is real – the natural selection of conscious choice.  Darwin’s view was primitive, and yet contained its kernel of truth.  Was he, like Newton, misrepresented? Selection of the fittest in the animal kingdom, has a unique and EVOLUTIONARY expression in human consciousness.  It happens any moment, where an individual wall of time and graffiti collapses.  When we recognise and love this in each other, the Kundalini Snake is Transformation … as in Indian yoga philosophy and in the Dakini oracle.

My tent or cave is set a little apart from the rest of the family.  Live and work with human limitation and infinity.  His room is “unknown” to me, it is where he to himself, never had a beginning, and never ends.  But when I perceive that “unknown” I am mysteriously connected.  See and be from under the other’s eyebrows, without comment and with respect.  I see nothing but I am.  You are.  There is no fiddle faddle.  When you are talking or exploring something, you go very quiet and slow, like this.

You see, we are in kundalini, her coil.  Novices tumble into tornado, but the natural adepts turn with her spiral, as the light.  When a seer encounters one who goes quiet and slow and explores, her spiral rests and flows with his.  There is a transmission, and she reflects it back.  It took many centuries to set up, like an oak.  Honour it.  Meditate on it.  Be there and here for its work.  It provides a medium for the inner and the outer to work together in the Field:  the toil out there, the nuts and bolts, bricks and mortar, of life and humans.  Transmute.  Keep going!

Key 6 – The Lovers 
Jung said the serpent is not only a separating, but a unifying Principle. Here is the meaning of Tarot Key 6 (above):  Its emblem or letter is hebrew ZAIN the sword which deftly separates the parts and unifies the whole.  The sword’s memory is the alternation of fire and water to the fluid metal.  Fire and water are man and woman.  The ore is the mercury of the wise, and so this Key is ruled by Gemini.  Beauty is astonished at the rhymes and runes!  In Key 6, the active consciousness (Adam) contemplates the receptive subconscious (Eve).  She is an open lake.  In the lake is reflected the Law of Rafael above.

Adam put into the Lake his desire to see the Law.  Subconscious Eve is amenable to suggestion, and provides that vision.  If he requested of her the twisting dark lagunas, she would show him those, and these forms in turn would keep on conditioning his desire, and therefore his childrens’ childrens’ childrens’ modifications.  Thus the active consciousness makes a Choice – to alter our state of interior momentum:  to turn towards and into, rather than with, the current.

To take responsibility for our own palette, for the painting of our life, we co-create with God, through Eve.  I am a lake, and You write on me.  I am your mirror, and in me you see with yourself, the Archangel, God’s messenger:  the cosmic Law.  This gets practiced prosaically on my kitchen table:  practice in partnered writing, at first it is academic.

I feel then the rainbows in the splash of heavy rain and cars outside, as the cold wind blows the bare trees.  They slowly, softly, fill the water like a tide. Strength is never a mere show of force. The hidden soft power is in every sound;  it ripples the Snake of the Earth.  The strength is not me.  It is the Sky, and it touches down here, and flows along the earth and wood meridians.  Be well !

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**

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.

aquariel link

All art and creative writing in this blog is copyright © Janeadamsart 2012-2014. 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/

 

 

A Poem on Being the World

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Quantock 1

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I am actually planning a SITA Arrows post.  But during a search in my journals for something else, I came across this poem, written in May 2007:

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tao doodle

Pare, oil and cherish the bud seed
that glides along the ground
receiving flowers, fragrant fruit, leaves,
grit and human-ness.

She smiles
he enters
all shall be well
all manner of things.

As the Sun’s light encircles
earth without end:
no day, no night, but both,

dive into the ocean
and find upon the rippled sandy bed
your drinking glass !

Sand and stars and stone
and glass and waves with aeons turning slow
are sand and blood, patterns of the poet
to breathe and blow.

Plant David’s Psalms again in Isra-EL:
trees of fruit in bud, soldiery in caritas.
The soul begetting magic
became forgotten.

The ground is damp and drinks the seed –
tiny roots out stretch
like to like as baby fingers mother Earth –
rain coming dew, breaks open, melting marriage –

the meanings rest
behind my day’s weariness:

the fish is in the egg.

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The Great Work gardened, watered daily,
projects a need to maintain Herself
with jobs and money and
skill with magic boxes.

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The New world order is a nucleus now present on this planet.
Esoteric wisdom is like dandelion seed – fragile in the pollutants of worldpolitik and easily overthrown, trodden under – fanciful, frail, devalued – and for this reason, let it be hardy handsome as the dandelion leaf and root;  let it withstand all toxic blasts; let it keep on and on being found, renewed, reborn and realised.

Use intelligence to cultivate the positive opposite to negative states of mind. It’s easy to run with bad news, tension and anxiety.  It takes real creative effort to be happy.  When in fear, be still, find where the constriction is;  let it open and expand. Make it smile.  Turn it to lifecurrent, release from jail.  The blessing of the tree moves into flower, within cottages and their gardens, in a pad, a dog, a lover, the stars.

9 May 2007

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drinking-glass on sea-bed

drinking-glass on sea-bed

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And … a Tarot Reflection, that same day.  Click to open gallery and see captions.

**

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.

aquariel link

All art and creative writing in this blog is copyright © Janeadamsart 2012-2014. 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/

The Family and the Wand

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Unknown-2

This winter and new year, terrible storms have battered people and homes around the west coast – waves breaking spray many times higher than the houses, and ripping up roads.  My heart goes out to these families and their homes, and to all who live on flood plains, and cannot sell or move.  How can we help each other?

Calm weather here in London with un-predictable clouds, downpours, and a touch of frost – my spirit is lighter than last month.   I feel the little seeds sprouting in the ground, the tender young Yang, the naked growing moon tide from the point of rock bottom.   There is a tiny oscillation, which grows and forms a pulse, a conic sound or psyche wave.

Here is an astrology Synastry:  a combined chart of two friends who got to know each other last year: a diagrammatic portrait of their relationship.   I haven’t put the Houses in. Her planets are black:  His are red.  Look just at that bundle of wands in the Nodal stem !  The lunar Nodes are the Karmic path, drawing souls together.

I feel the Swords of my previous post turn into Wands – a suit of Wands.

Synastry, A and D

What are these Wands?

In general:  his and her Mercuries and Southnodes hold hands, across the Aries Taurus cusp.   That by itself is interesting.  I feel that in each area of her life which was stuck, he gives it a shake-up and a joke:  they have a Uranus-Moon exchange.   If he was a father, and she a baby with wind, he picks her up and burps her.   At the same time they enjoy their independent characters – Moon square Moon, to each side of their companionable Suns (Tifareth, a shared enterprise in the soul.)

My mind being what it is, the chart with its past-life resonances feels shoes-on-my-feet authentic.   The past-life theme may or may not be historically true;  does that matter?  Who writes the history?  The hidden depth of the iceberg authorizes deep responses and imagery in my map, over decades.

The terrain to come this year in a general sense, is Daat:  the unknown cognition of the Tree of Life:  a space of union.

See the magnetic fields of person or planet - their curve

See the magnetic fields of person or planet – their curve

Unknown

Last Wednesday, new year’s day, New Moon Yesod was on the Capricorn Daat-Tifareth.   I feel the Unknown Quantum in any speculation.   It is a solar corona, a dark apple limned with gold:  the jewel of the north.   I feel and see alchemical gold:  anything in front of it is shadow.

800px-coronae_at_ggb

Anything could happen.

Friendship sustains itself, it has a good feeling which is very hard to break.   True Friendship is a wand which cannot be broken.  Family ties have a different energy, often they are too binding and close, and they snap.  But when a conscious guardian-friend function to the “child” is embarked upon, it builds a unique loyalty.   It is not compulsory.   It takes TIME … roughly of the kind for a parent and child to bond and get to know each other;   but it needs less time, because of the mature choice to bend towards each other:  to be inclined.   Astrology indicates the inclination.

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Harry breaks the elder-wand

I was just thinking of the bit near the end of the Deathly Hallows, when the battle is over, Voldemort is destroyed, and Harry has the Elder Wand.   He has the potential for total global Dominion “for the better good”.   But he takes that wand and he breaks it in half.

What a liberation – release!   The thrall is transformed to a snapped twig.

The wands and branches of friendship for each other, on the other hand, are Living Wood. It is so profound.  Harry’s intuition from his dead Headmaster, was to allow Voldemort to steal the Elder Wand, come out, and self-disable with it, in full.  When evil has no backup – because the horcrux portions were shattered – and faces the Light, it cannot prevail.   The elder stick shrivelled and drooped in Voldemort’s hand – a limp dick.

Harry didn’t know why, but he knew what to do, and his doubt was guided through Daat/Abyss, a step at a time.  When he took the castaway Elder wand from the fallen wizard’s ash, and snapped it himself … that is such a beautiful movement.

And I think of Wands, and what they are – the Living Wood through which the stellar filaments flow, which bind and release the Universe.  It may accelerate or slow down matters between people, and the processes in our Nature.   I once had a very strong Karmic wand with a man, a dark wood, which gave him glory and grief.   This was not a wand used for evil, so it doesn’t need to be snapped.   Its allegiance to Life is transferred.

GALLERY – roots and shoots

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Humanity’s deep desire is for the Family, and for its children’s children to go on boarding the red steam train to school in Scotland, term after term.

The fantasy that stood before the Family would blot it out;  this is the same in any political or commercial dictatorship, and in any belief with which we label one another.    Two best-seller archetypes, Harry Potter and the Da Vinci Code, conclude with a healed and healing Family of humankind:  an open question, not a lid.   To “solve” that Greater Mystery would disable it:  to kebab it with our Wand.

Our Wand of Man:  our human wand.   Yours and mine.  Ours.

The wand is the power of the Tao in all the veins;  in hands, feet, spine, breath.  It is pictured as a living dark wood, blackthorn or willow;  it draws the sky and galaxies:  dragons heartstrings and phoenix feathers flow in it like blood and song:   like – as the Upanishads say – the cream in the milk, the fire in the wood, the tree in the apple, the oak in the acorn, the atom, the still small voice, the child in the man, the seed in the woman.

The Wand is grown right here and now – in my heart;   in yours.

Menorah Tree of Sapphires

Menorah Tree of Sapphires

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**

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.

aquariel link

All art and creative writing in this blog is copyright © Janeadamsart 2012-2014. 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/

Observations on The Lilith Archetype

lady of shalot, 1956

lady of shalot, 1956

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As we approach Solstice, the turning year’s deep point, what better than to befriend our Shadow Feminine? Bring her in out of the cold, for Xmas!

My friend Actaeon and I wrote this article together, in 2005, and it is circulated to his students.  He is a homeopathic practitioner and teacher.   It is based on experience and on our field work.  My contribution was also influenced by George Macdonald’s extraordinary novel, Lilith.

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wicked godmother 1956

wicked godmother 1956

Who was Lilith?

The forgotten bride of Adam, she sought to rule and make herself known.  She stood alone, infertile, envious of Eve who bore his children, and she made mischief.  She is regarded as the feminine Shadow!

Historically, women – and the feminine principle – have been severely displaced at levels of creativity, culture and spirituality.  Certain mind-sets, principles and behavioural qualities in the modern woman – observable also in some men – characterize this Archetype:

1) She is manic, chaotic, and probably prone to insomnia.
2) She feels excluded, and doesn’t want to miss anything.
3) In our society she is a product of repression and abuse.  She looks everywhere for healing, but resists the healing process.

haughty, 1957

haughty, 1957

The first two points show a compensatory factor.  The manic process needs urgently to be in on everything, and to be at the centre of things.  As the feminine has been excluded, she feels her right to be included in everything.  The Lilith Archetype becomes obsessed with information and the need to know, but never attains wisdom.  Thus, her energy and envy become invasive.  All things must be hers at any cost;  she must be privy to the neighbourhood gossip – the one who twitches the net curtains, as well as the walking encyclopaedia.

4) The Lilith archetype wants to obtain the creative energy and power of the masculine for herself.  Why?

If the Lilith archetype is a mother, she is not satisfied with the creation and rearing of her child.  As society has undervalued the role of motherhood, she does not feel acknowledged or appreciated in this role.  In a healthy family unit, warmth, love and light shine from the father into the mother;  she reflects this love and light into the eyes of their child.  If the relationship breaks down, there is displacement in the psyche, and anger at the masculine.  Without his protection and support, she feels as a mother, disabled.  Her maternal authority carries no weight or assurance;  she starts to nag.  She, as Peter Gabriel said, “looks for the teeth to match her wounds.”

angry women

angry women

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The feminine role is a dual one.  Interiorly she creates the child in her womb.  Exteriorly, she goes out to work, or expands her creative and evolutionary process.  A man who protects and provides for the former, and supports her independence for the latter, can help her to fulfill both.   The key to this is a couple’s mutual love, respect and understanding as lovers, companions and parents.  But – and this is also due to today’s economic stress – more often in a woman, the one role gets over-ridden by the other, or both are sustained in a tense atmosphere of over-achievement and anxiety.

The Lilith archetype in a creative woman or artist, makes her jealous and envious of male composers, musicians, artists and scientists in the past.  Her traditional confinement to domestic roles, excluded her.  Openly admiring male creative qualities, she subconsciously resents masculine achievement and success.  She now wants that for herself.

The modern Lilith archetype, when drawn to creative men and women, usurps their inspiration and knowledge.  Having no respect for the masculine seed, she ignores its lineage, source and consciousness; the way it interweaves with her own.  Her powers of intuition and gestation became distorted through witch-hunts and repressive values in our history.  If she is unable to access her real nature, she resents the male!   She wants his seed to be her own.

Envy of male physical strength and ability, makes her competitive.  She did not accept her power internally:  nor is she aware of how strong her internal organs are. (Women generally live longer).  Yet, throughout nature, as in society, the balanced union of the male and female powers generates life, love and sanity.  Who cares whether the chicken or the egg came first?

someone's mother 1956

someone’s mother 1956

Secretly believing she is the more intelligent, Lilith may be fearful of the male gaining power and hubris.  The Lilith archetype in countless operatic roles, played her men off against each other.  Her old cliches are: “All he wants is his football and dinner on the table.”  “He’s useless in bed, he lives in his head.”  “He’s supposed to know what I want and how I feel, but I’m not going to tell him, and he should know!”  By conditioning, her collusion with her sisters emasculates and mocks their men, cutting them off from effectiveness, driving them to do office overtime, to computer games or the pub.  “He won’t step in the door – the wife drives him mad, the kids are playing up.”

By divide and rule, the Lilith archetype seeks Kingship/high Priesthood on top of her femaleness, and naturally she detests Eve.  Her efforts to be top dog, cut off her own power and love.  With the erosion of procreative male support from her life, things “don’t happen” right for her.  They seem to break apart.  She is left alone.  “Men are no good.  He hasn’t got a clue.”

Those who are subjected to her barrage, generally shut up or retreat.  Hungry for acknowledgement, the Lilith archetype feels deprived, and thank-you’s are rarely given.  If she gives, it is to promote her situation.  Her gifts may be inappropriate and misplaced.  She is owed something – the residue of past deprivation.  If this self image is coloured by previous-life inferior/superior roles, she may move towards the arrogance of the persecutor or the helpless hopelessness of the victim.  There is no true centre.

What is our centre?  How does it move and prosper? for it is never static.

marrying tetrahedrons: the point from in between

marrying tetrahedrons: the point from in between

The point from in between the worlds is a paradox, which blends the edge and zest of life. A child emerges from a fertile point between the parents.  Creative persons, pioneers and those who are not afraid to feel their love and pain, emerge from the fertile point between established conventions.  They learn to honour this awareness as their own progressive centre.

anangaranga 11 - gaining-restraining

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The Lilith archetype, starved of parental integrity, inhabits a static fantasy bubble.  It just touches Reality’s open hand for which she hungers, but it doesn’t quite burst or free her into her own ‘point from in between’.   Classically, she hovers between isolation and community.  She endures denial and frustration, as she tries to maintain her comfort zone.  Wounded underneath, yet avoiding healing, she wants to appear powerful, dominant and in control …  Knowing she misuses others and herself, she may suffer acutely from shame and disunity.  She is “trapped inside the evil container – a house where mother screams and father shrugs his shoulders … a vehicle where mother is paralysed with father yelling at her because she doesn’t work properly.”

Ultimately disliking herself and what she is doing, Lilith may conceal addictive problems.  Her disguises make crucial issues unavailable for confrontation or clarity.  In dialogue, she may frustratingly lose the thread.  She is not OK.  She plays on this, making other persons feel guilty and responsible for her lack of fulfillment and success.  She may attribute to them all her own power to make herself miserable.  “The world has passed me by!”  This leads to depression, and an inability to discriminate others from herself.  She fears she might pull people down with her.

queen with suitor

queen with suitor

Poor Lilith!   Her roles in theatre, opera and the celebrity industry, are legion:  Salome, Lady Macbeth, Lucrizia Borgia, Cleopatra, Helen of Troy (who would rather watch many men die, than give up her status), Queen Margaret, who took over the land from her King Henry VI and became a war vamp …  We have played or been accused of aspects of all these parts.

King Lear was betrayed by two Liliths, Goneril and Reaga.  His hard heart could not distinguish Eve from Lilith, until he held Cordelia dead in his arms:  “O, you are men of stones.  Had I your tongues and eyes, I’d use them so that heaven’s vault should crack – she’s gone for ever!

Lilith was unrecognised until her process had been lived, right through himself;  his heart and mind were broken open.

Blow winds and crack your cheeks - Lear's madness in the storm.  1987

Blow winds and crack your cheeks – Lear’s madness in the storm. 1987

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In the old days, in villages in India, menstrual rags after use were dug into the ground under stones, so the blood would not attract snakes and particularly cobras!

During a woman’s menstrual flow she is psychically ‘open’.  In matriarchal societies, she withdraws and becomes quiet.  She lets her interior pulse with Mother Earth awaken kundalini shakti in the root.  Fearing the unknown, could some invading patriarch have derived the notion of the menstrual blood being ‘unclean’?

wise earth goddess 1987

wise earth goddess 1987

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(Against the conditioning, that the flow and flux of female blood is dirt and pain … I began to feel my own cycle as a cleansing and renewal, “dropping through”.  The ache had a lunar rhythm, like childbirth;  when I was young, I intuited the way it prepares the bed for the child.  It kept me indoors, to be still, relax into the ache.)

In November 2003, a new outer planet was discovered – far beyond Pluto’s orbit – and announced on 29 July 2005.  It is named ‘Lila’, and presages a revolutionary world view. In mystic circles, the menstrual flower is represented as a lily.  The Graal lineage comes through a dragon race (the goddess Nibiru) whose key females venerated as lilies, were named Lili, Luluwa, Lilith, Lilitu, and even LIL-LET!

Pluto or Hades is our collective unconscious;  and beyond Pluto, the ‘new planet’ is feminine.  In mythology, Persephone daughter of Gaia, became his bride.  She descended into the Shadow and returned to earth as spring.  She goes further than any.  The discovery of planet Lila provokes our transitional time.

Hades and Persephone 1957

Hades and Persephone 1957

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In hyperactive modern life, who are wearing the LIL-LETS?  TV presenters, fashion gurus, polititians, powers behind the throne and business:  the high fliers, generally.  We are all aware of female ruthlessness in the media, and in the worlds of finance and crime.  We see women under repressive political and religious systems, becoming tyrants at home.  They may breed killer sons, by reinforcing unconsciously inherited attitudes.  We see the archetype in our families:  mothers and grandmothers who are intrusively possessive or who, despising the aging process in themselves, pass on this attitude to their daughters, and become sour, withdrawn and tight.

Men and women suffer aspects of this archetype in ourselves – anxiety, loneliness, insecurity, jealousy, hyperactivity, lethargy and being ‘not good enough‘.  The surgical nip and tuck craze bears witness to this.  A daughter of Lilith measures and compares herself with others, seeking inclusion.

talking

talking

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Single mothers are rich pickings for the Archetype! … It may breed a mistrustful mindset through daughters and grandchildren.  The Archetype in a mother or a partner can cause grown men and sons to withdraw – even into the tragedy of self-destruction.  These factors coalesce in the subtle genetic structure, and lead to infertility problems down the line.

The feared and devouring Feminine at every level, is Lilith.  Having gleaned what she thinks is enough, she will be off with the next craze or fad in town;  there is nothing more to gain from this or that person.  Failure and fatigue follow her around, and drain off positive qualities in her relationships.  It is difficult for her to be honest about this, because she is clever at camouflage.  She may dissemble, insist and believe that all is sweetness and light.  If you don’t supply what she wants from the sperm-bank, then watch out, guys!  She’s after your bottomless wallet.

Bothwell and Mary 1957

Bothwell and Mary 1957

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What is the solution to the dark Goddess within our soul?   Who will turn to face and commit to her sterile, disabling force?  While she assembles data from all and sundry to support her case, there is no commitment or devotion to any one thing.

The Gurdhieff teaching refers to our “Chief Feature”.  It takes courage to turn – metanaoia – to look her in the eye.   .  The Chief Feature is a negative intensity or ‘hideous creature’ within ourselves which we cannot bear for others to see, and try to keep concealed at all costs.

Behind every Shadow stands the light.  In every method of therapy or esoteric work worthy of the name, the key to the Spirit is through the monster guardian or Dragon within the soul.  This is commitment.

goddess with triton 1957

goddess with triton 1957

Dragons are serpents with wings and fiery breath, who guard the jewel.  They symbolise subtle currents of power – leylines – through the earth and through the psyche and through our body as acupunctural meridians.  A warm Dragon breathes fire and flame like a sword.  A cold Dragon coils and creeps along the ground, worm-like, with flickering tongue.

The snake is associated with woman:  the paradox of her primordial knowledge, with her capacity to betray or beguile.  Just as the venomous potency of a snake or scorpion reverses homeopathically, to heal, so Lilith may turn herself around.

kundalini shakti 1988

kundalini shakti 1988

How?  She is out in the cold, and frozen, and needs to be warmed right through.  Who will lie with her and warm her with his body? – for he receives at first, contempt.  Can he provide for AMMA and AIMA – the light and the dark womb?  The one nurtures his seed.  In the other is hidden the key to her evolution.

sleeping beauty, 1956

sleeping beauty, 1956

Centuries ago, the black madonna was walled up, who had something to say.  Allow her to arise into life creatively!  Then her expression is no longer distorted.

What in our life is dark, and cries out to be converted to light and awareness?   With hindsight and courage, a painful or broken love affair expands our heart towards unconditional love – we are not alone in this.  Without Lilith emerging to the passion of truth and light, the picture would be incomplete!  Let her awakening turn the dragons of the past.  Let our relationships become sacred, bestowed to future generations.

he and she tao, 2007

he and she tao, 2007

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The Role of Adam with Eve and Lilith

When a man’s awareness embraces the light womb and the dark womb, he is fertile.

The Lilith drama is enacted within our psyche.  The way our interior male and female personas clash and pass judgement, reflects our external social inheritance.  When we begin to commit ourselves to reveal, to see and heal, it starts at home:  with our nearest and in our inner life.  Lilith’s transformative potential is towards soul growth and maturity:  Eve’s is given to her children.  Am I both?

You cannot negotiate with Lilith, and if you are wise, you don’t try to.  But the shadow feminine may be encouraged, to realise herself.  The Kundalini serpent trapped through centuries, lies under the stone.  The stone cracks.  She is only the shakti interned;  it turns.

serpent egg 1987

serpent egg 1987

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Turning towards the Light, or metanoia, a man and a woman look into each other’s eyes.  They are liberated into heart centre.  It awakens and opens.  At this point of stability, they each embrace Her dual nature.  She bears his children, and attends to the active evolution of her soul.  The man she loves, protects and provides for this, in whatever way.  When he holds both sides of the vessel steady with her acceptance, both are nourished;  their agreement turns towards the Light.

They honour each other for their childrens’ children.

Triads and the Yin Yang Symbol The positive feminine accepts her duality:  the infant life within her and the soul's own life.  She helps her partner to hold her creative polar polarities - her own development and the needs of her family - in the Yin Yang symbol.  Both are nourished within himself also. The sphere or globe is the ovary.  Two dynamic sperms swim around a global womb, like whales.  One is black with a white light inside.  The other is white with a black light inside.  These are the dynamic of transformation.

The positive feminine accepts her duality: the infant life within her and the soul’s own life. She helps her partner to hold her creative polar polarities – her own development and the needs of her family – in the Yin Yang symbol. Both are nourished within himself also.
The sphere or globe is the ovary. Two dynamic sperms swim around a global womb, like whales. One is black with a white light inside. The other is white with a black light inside. These are the dynamic of transformation.

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lady with gift

lady with gift

The Role of the Feminine within Herself

Sometimes, as the pain of her existence becomes crucial, and thus unbearable, Lilith will allow her unmasking, a veil at a time.  “She is a child.  Let the child grow up and become a woman, and she will step over the dragon guarding her, and speak her truth.”

It is the dismantling of a scaffold.  With her willingness to stop blaming others – including herself! – and to become response-able, vulnerable, the crooked ways begin to flow straight.  For the Archetype is transpersonal.

She turns, changes and becomes conscious.  From the collective unconscious, blighted seeds, twisted roots, half-forms and abortions stretch out tentatively from the dark … becoming whole, engaging life. They seek the light, the sun’s lamp which at first entering their limestone cave, stumbled and cast grotesque shadows.

The serpent within the Stone is a deep, fertile underground river.  She flows and carries nourishment as the venoms disperse.

serpent and soul 1987

serpent and soul 1987

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In a controlled therapeutic dialogue towards simplicity, is TRANSFORMATION.

The Lilith Archetype, if ‘understood – stoodunder‘ can open the door to freedom and expression of the true feminine.  She can integrate with Eve.  At first she was trapped.  Then she no longer ran away, but became herself set free … from here … in here.

“Be still, and know That I AM.”

Actaeon and Jane
August 2005

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self portrait, left & right hands/brain

self portrait, left & right hands/brain

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“Then the Old man of the Earth stooped over the floor of the cave, raised a huge stone from it, and left it leaning.  It disclosed a great hole. 
“‘That is the way,’ he said. 
“‘But there are no stairs!’ 
“‘You must throw yourself in.  There is no other way.'”

George Macdonald, The Golden Key

Fontanel - Chakras tarot Keys 2013

Fontanel – Chakras tarot Keys 2013

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**

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.

aquariel link

All art and creative writing in this blog is copyright © Janeadamsart 2012-2013. 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/

The Chakras Part 2 – the Mountains

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3 Granthis on Everest!  Photo by F S Smythe, 1930s

3 Granthis on Everest! Photo by F S Smythe, 1930s

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This post suggests walking the Tree of Life through the Himalayan range! – to re-state the themes of the journey.

Chakras on the Tree of Life

Chakras on the Tree of Life

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The Granthi Knots

Definition by Ernest Wood:  “There are three granthis:  in the basal/muladhara, the heart(anahata) and the eye-brow/ajna Chakras.   It is explained that Kundalini has to break through these knots in the course of her journey up the spine.  The first is called the knot of Brahma, the second that of Vishnu, the third that of Siva.  Human consciousness goes through (these) three states before reaching perfect union with its own true Self, or abolition of bondage.”  

The trimurti Brahma Vishnu Siva are “Creator, Sustainer, Destroyer”.   The One Immanent Reality (equivalent to Y – H V H in our tradition [jhvh, jahveh]) is Brahman, the Self, transcending all three.  Once again in the greater Mysteries, we find the divine Thread – a Tetrahedral sacred geometry:  3 with the emerging One within – a 4th.

soul tetrahedrons

soul tetrahedrons

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Here is a page from “Manishya – On Being Human” by myself and Actaeon, in 2004:

THE KNIGHT (male) journeys through the mandala of the Rose (female).  The Knight and the Rose  symbolise our learning process from childhood.  The child’s task throughout life, is to reconcile and honour his or her interior parents – incarnation’s archway whose horizons expand.  They, the right and left pillars of the Tree of Solomon, stand south and north.  I journey through their portal, travelling from the west to the rising sun.  This is a quadriform Key to life:

“All experience is an arch where thro’
gleams that untravell’d world whose margin fades
for ever and for ever, as I move … “

Alfred Lord Tennyson

In our shadow are belief systems – rigidities of indoctrination. Devouring their own tail, they reinforce a closed circuit of births or reactive patterns of behaviour.  Hod repeats the Netzachian pulse, fuelled by Yesod the personal ego: a triad of feeling – the habit pattern.

Arcana - ourobouros

In alchemy, we try to walk contra the way of the world.  Rather than run with life’s pressure, we turn to face it.  The arrow put into reverse, flies “upside down” into the heart of Dante’s Rose of paradise.  Our attachments to “life-and-death” matters begin to drop away.  They fall out of the pockets of that powerful tarot symbol, the Hanging Man – the path of MEM.  This Hebrew letter means the Waters of Life.  Diving into the unconscious, he smiles as he performs a cosmic headstand, treads the starry firmament, and is born again –  as dew from heaven.

The Hanging Man is a pendulum at rest.

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Arcanum 12 - Hanging Man

Arcanum 12 – Hanging Man

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The personal becoming transpersonal, moves deeper into the Tree.  We reach our own interior crossroads, where the granthi of our genetic, karmic and spiritual tendencies were knotted.

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Tree of Life with three Granthi Knots

Tree of Life with three Granthi Knots

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In Indian Yogic culture which parallels the Tree of Life, the granthis correspond to the solar plexus, the throat, and third-eye centres.  Kundalini – the Shakti – has to break through these knots in the course of her journey up the spine, and free their energy potential.

Brahma granthi (Sacred india Tarot)

Brahma granthi (Sacred india Tarot) – Vishnu lies asleep on the serpent, and dreams him on his lotus, umbilically.

In the mythos, the first is sometimes called the knot of Brahma (creator), the second is that of Vishnu (sustainer), the third is Rudra/Siva (destroyer).  We may detect, become aware and release the bonds of life.  We inherit the Conscious seed – our second birth.

Siva/Rudra granthi (sacred india Tarot)

Siva/Rudra Granthi (sacred india Tarot) – serpent power liberated

Vishnu Granthi (Sacred India Tarot)

Vishnu Granthi (Sacred India Tarot) – serpent power contained.

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Human consciousness reaches union with its own true Self, through these three levels.  The first concerns personality, ancestral and genetic codes.  The second addresses issues still deeply engraved in the Soul Law from previous lives, which await resolution.  At the third (beyond the mind), time and space dissolve, and grace prevails.  The points of tension or conflict, seek resolution.

near Tibet - photo by Ashvin Mehta, Encounters with Eternity 1985

near Tibet – photo by Ashvin Mehta, Encounters with Eternity 1985

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In the Tree’s Lower Face, the cutting of the first granthi  of Yesod to Tifareth, across the Hod-Netzach “Red Sea”, frees the heart from ancestral ties or relationships which bind.

Clip from Jacobs Ladder, showing the Tree of the psyche (planets) interlocking the Tree of the body (Cha

Clip from Jacobs Ladder, showing the Tree of the psyche (planets) interlocking the Tree of the body (Chakras).  The psychological Tree of Formation is planted in the body Tree’s Tifareth, at “ground level”.  The first granthi (ancestral) is below the ground level.  The second granthi is above it, at Tifareth, Gevurah, Netzach, where the Trees of Formation and Substance interlock.   The soul matures.  At the third granthi – in the Great Triad of Tifareth, Binah, Hokhmah –  the Creational archetypes interlock with the Tree of Formation.

I need to refresh and clarify the detail for myself.  This diagram also has the general idea:

Jacobs Ladder - interlocking worlds

Jacobs Ladder – interlocking worlds:  11 circles  (see previous post)

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After we have lived and worked along the paths forming the Soul cup, we start to comprehend the nature of our second granthi, –  the intersection of Tifareth centre pillar with the horizontal Path of Strength –  Gevurah and Hesed.  Unravelling this knot, where profound Karmic issues adhere, releases a potential to receive the Cup of divine grace:  Tifareth, Binah, Hokhmah … Kether.  Conditioned tensions in the Tree’s Lower Face melt away, as our centre of gravity shifts to the heart.

So we cross the Abyss “beneath the Angels’ Wings”.  As we travel the mountain passes, the great Wings of Archangel Mikael open from between the shoulder blades.  “As children we shall re-enter the mystery of our Heavenly Mother and Father” .

Photo taken from FS Smythe's highest point on Everest, 1933

Photo taken from FS Smythe’s highest point on Everest, 1933

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The Soul Law

THE INCARNATIONS of the soul are a journey to expand consciousness, truth and love – through conflict towards harmony.  This is what unconditional love ultimately embraces and contains.

At the second granthi, we understand and break the deep, ingrained Soul patterns of victim, persecutor, rescuer.  Obscuring consciousness (Tifareth), truth (Gevurah) and love (Hesed), these lay embedded for lifetimes to resolve.

Terrace farm in Ranihet by sranjan, trekearth.com

Terrace farm in Ranihet by sranjan, trekearth.com

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flow of stone, Encounters with Eternity 1985

flow of stone, Encounters with Eternity 1985

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Gevurah and Hesed in the Soul triad, are feminine and masculine pillars of our individual soul Law.  The soul Law is reflected in the parental Hod and Netzach to which it gravitates for an incarnatory purpose, seeking resolution.  And so, embodying a bundle of soul memory, the personal “I” – Yesod – takes shape.  The soul Law breathes into our ear a Word – the essence of our quest for this lifetime.  As we are born again and pick up this live vibration, we treasure in ourselves, our parents’ genetic framework, their gift to us however arduous, and our way of discovery through it.

If you rest against a tall beech or oak in the woods, you can listen to the Word:  the golden core within.  Time’s ancestral concentric rings in the wood are a plane which crosses the Tree’s height, root and breadth.   These are layers of the onion.   Reaching the core of my soul Law  “that I am“,  she moves and flowers through all my seemingly separate births, linking and drawing them together by soul osmosis … upward and across the pattern.

Osmosis is the law of growth.  Moisture and nitrates in the ground are drawn up through the roots as sap, towards the Sun.  The sap rises through the cell membranes.  As nature abhors a vaccuum, each cell as it empties, draws nourishment up into itself.  This is Ascension.  In the branches and leaves it photosynthesises with light, and releases life-giving oxygen.  Alchemy calls this ‘the green dragon’;  a sensitive onlooker from outside Earth, may witness the flow of renewed life over the continents, as a quiver of springtime’s emerald ray.  A soul’s release into Spirit from Tifareth, begins to nourish humanity.

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Towards Daat …

Bearing rather than scatter the seed
whose fire liberates us,
we are the glowing lamp the Hermit holds.
We are the honey of the melting snows.

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14 moonrise

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The Journey to Badrinath

GALLERY – I have not been to Badrinath.  These photos were taken by Actaeon, many years ago.  The pilgrim chant through the watershed is Lakshmi Narayana, Badri Narayana – the seed (Badri) which Lakshmi gave to Vishnu. 

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This is how I imagine the journey:

The Blue Ones – consider the throat chakra in the rainbow scheme – they speak.  The speaker.  The transmission.   Imagining it at this moment, as a flow of jewels in the air – the ageless teaching, the wisdom, ever fresh and beautiful – the river flowing from the source, the voice …  I find myself at a meeting point of Siva and Vishnu, hence the over-abundance of river valleys in this region.   Around Badrinath they abound.   Vishnu is Lord here, and he is blue.   Siva did something rather like RAHU.  When the gods were churning nectar with Mount Meru as the stick, they churned up all the poisons too.   Siva drank up all the poisons and held them in his yogic Throat where they turned pure peacock-blue – Vishnu’s colour:  stability, Sustainer.

In such a tale, the gods are not differentiated, they are Brahman the One, in his flow of aspects.

Rahu when he was an ordinary asura, crept in on the gods when they were feasting on their own immortality, and took a sip.   One of the Vishnu(?) gods saw him, and cut off the head and mouth which had tasted.  The elixir would rove for ever more, unsated, energising humans to bite off more than we can chew.

Siva when the gods got into trouble with their self indulgence, also came and sipped and drank, but as a Deliverer.   As a Yogi, he held it in his throat without swallowing, and transmuted the toxicity.  He turned it into brilliant blue sky.   Siva is alchemical.

Nilakantha by moonlight, photo by F S Smythe 1935 - blue in Siva's throat

Nilakantha by moonlight, photo by F S Smythe 1935 – blue in Siva’s throat

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So here are Siva and Rahu, both with the Taste of Elixir.    Here are Siva and Vishnu in the high Ganga tributaries;  and here is Creator Brahma dreaming it all.  I can only imagine their places of worship and pilgrimage among those arduous communicating valleys and snowy passes.  I imagine being among their mountains and hearing their song, the melted glaciers rushing through the little towns.   I sense their altars, and the pilgrims who have trudged this far, and are content.   I hear the chanting and the ancestral release.  I can smell the dhoop and yak dung, and put down my heavy load:  the air of high altitude, biting fresh, and in the hidden distance, Kailas.   You know, you cross the highest watershed, and still ahead of you, remote in Tibetan brownlands, awaits the culminating peak:  and the lake of lakes, in which to bathe.

Nilgiri Parbat, photo by Frank Smythe

Nilgiri Parbat, photo by Frank Smythe

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I might not be able to travel to Badrinath physically in this lifetime, but it is in my soul.

I hear the ancestral song.  You know, our ancestors and past loved-ones, are buried in our personal graveyards, the ones we carry around on our backs.   We are walking graveyards!   Siva dances in graveyards.  And when we arrive up here, we let go of our walking dead, clean and noble.   We cut the “granthi knot”.  We release our personal micro-cosmos to the Self:  the godcosm.

And then we return to the plains, having honoured them, and life goes on.

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Chalice and Blade

Chalice and Blade

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This is from a collection of photographs of a journey to Kailas.  Glimpses of Siva and Parvati abound:  their marital home was on Kailas.

Mountain gallery
Photos copyright Rommel and Sadhana Varma 1985

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I found this photo of Kailas in Tom's blog The Sun Hermit, of poetry and observations

GLIMPSE OF KAILAS – I found this wonderful photo in Tom’s blog The Sun Hermit, of poetry and observations.  Under it is his poem The Mountain without Valleys – a beautiful tale.

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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.

 

Aquariel Link

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/

Tales of the Watershed: A House of Hundreds of Rooms

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wave break

The Watershed stories were written down long ago, around events which are more or less done and dusted.  But as they were dreamed, they have a tendency to reverberate, and they come to me as teachers, past, present and even future.   This tale underlies my emotional landscape of the last week or two – somewhat bumpy, but beginning to settle; to acknowledge, and let go.  It is another tale of incarnation or birth, the parental mystery from womb through tomb.   Mastery of any art is again, a spell-thing.

sphere

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“The Witch” – Dreams,  No.270   October 1976

I SAW a great roll of sea race into the bay and up the beach.   My father dived into this witchy wave as it turned to race back out to sea, and I saw him rapidly carried by the current very far out from the rocky beach.   He swam and shouted in the distance, his head could hardly be seen.   “He’s too far out!”  my mother shouted  “The current’s got him, he can’t swim back to us against it.  Oh!  He can’t get back.   We’ve lost him …”

But I began to get ready.   For yes, I am going after him,  to follow him out into the wondrous wild grandeur of that surging grey sea.   It pulls every fibre of my body, I must be there in that music,  else my life ends in envy.   There is no more after that in my memory.   There is only the tug of the boundless white element, the wave.

But there is also a huge house in which I lived for a time.

In this house were hundreds of rooms.   Many of them were bedrooms, as in a hotel,  but they also were clustered to form large apartments loosely interconnected by corridors, kitchens and utilities.   The living spaces communicated with each other like a grapevine.   The bedrooms were large, the beds in them wide and neatly made:  sometimes there were two or more beds to a room.   They were extraordinarily inviting.

Cupid & Psyche 1973

Cupid & Psyche 1973

They tugged my body.   I wanted to sleep in them all.   I couldn’t make up my mind.   I felt also intensely sad and deprived, because none of the rooms, beds or clusters belonged to me.   Others lived in and occupied them.   The rooms were redolent of the warmth, the pain, the sensual expectancy of those lives, sweet poignancy, my heart filled with an anguished longing and envy.   I wanted to be with a man on those beds, to have sex, to have affairs.   Dark, close, divinely rotting is the fruit, so thick the air, and intense the waiting.   How to possess any of those rooms?   They were allotted to people there, haphazardly by the management;   to my sister and to my brother;   both of them were in this place.   They knew their place in the music of adult providence.

In the kitchen a stout jovial woman cooked meals and looked after people.  Is she the owner,  or the mother of them all?

Cooking - 1987

Cooking – 1987

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Within the walls were a musty honeycomb of dark staircases and passages.   I went quite often to the kitchen to talk to or watch Queen Bee the jovial woman, to blur for a few minutes the sharp edge of my anxious loneliness.   Her kitchen had, I think, no windows.   She was always busy there, and she was not a tidy cook.   The electric light was strong, and her stoves, airing cupboards and hand-me-down furniture were massive.   Dishes piled up briskly by the sink and vegetables upon the table and newspapers on the chairs.   She kept her recipes on scraps of paper within the leaves of the great philosophers, and lost them from year to year.   She strode on large legs, voluminously aproned, and tied her dark hair in a knot.   The walls of her kitchen were painted an old fashioned yellow, and the wainscoting was chocolate brown.

The Tale of Samuel Whiskers by Beatrix Potter

The Tale of Samuel Whiskers by Beatrix Potter

In the walls were yielding places.  By the broom-cupboard, a small area yielded to deep channels of shadow in the “fruit” beyond the wall;   yielded to an ancient breath of corruption.

This very small aperture in the kitchen wall frightened me.   It was stifling and rather hot.  I might get stuck.  A thick flap or curtain covers it almost to the bottom.   It is uncomfortable to submit my body to the slanted twisting plane of this confined space.   There might be claustrophobia, cannot breathe.   But I crawled through it into a passage that led upwards for some way, like the chimneys in Tom Kitten,  and then down a steep flight of stairs, narrow and murky, to the door of a closed room which was a witch’s  hole.

dragon eats tail

A cloth hung over this door.   I removed the hanging cloth and pushed up the screen to open it.   An appalling square of darkness rushed out at me, paralyzing my memory.   I took the body of the witch in my arms – it was hanging on the door mummified, long preserved and undisturbed, wearing a petrified cap encrusted with jewels – switched on the electric light into the room and walked across it.   I think I laid the witch down on a box bed at the other side and in the corner.   The room was empty, fusty and full of dust.   It was redolent of petrified spells and latent powers.

scorpio force spiral

spell-thing

scorpio glyph

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Having opened the door,  I have returned many times to that room.

Many times I crawled through that disagreeably small aperture into the passage and the murky flight of stairs.   The woman in the kitchen did not prevent me from doing so.   But in her genial way she was anxious.   She warned me to be careful, making almost a joke of it.   I was a little afraid she might become severe and forbid my access.

During my visits to the room, its atmosphere became tangibly charged with ions (condensed from aeons)  of purpose.   Awakened feelings and influence throbbed up from the bare worm-eaten floorboards,  making me wish to do strange things with my body, to burst out of it, to abuse, to copulate with the air,  to leap around, to fly upside down.   These things however I did not do.   For I must not dissipate the serpent force.   I am playing in this place with an ancient danger.   I am very frightened, but I do not think my fear will overcome me.

 floor-boards

What did I set out to do?   I cannot quite see.   To the limits that I’m allowed, I am an observer of the ancient danger.   I am its explorer.   I renew the life-force of the witch and the spell that she herself placed under seals in time gone past.

Water flows from rock, from life and thought, from fossilized bone.   The seals were cryptic diagrams and stars to trace with my body in the dust of the floor.   And I am their release.   They in that room had no speech, no form.   They were perhaps evil.   Their current was an increase of power from fancy to substance, getting hotter.

I am the serpent that awakens in the shivering land.   I am uncoiling from sleep, and the room is a solid flying creature like a rainbow, earth broke open.   Night is devouring light.   Every tree under the moon is a vipers nest of lights whip-lashing earth.   They penetrate my body like severed conduits of current.   They spark, they writhe.   I can’t get back, I’ve lost them, I the spectrum of all precious stones, I a prism for pure light into the rainbow, into coloured fog, night to devour the light,  go back, go back, pour the oscillating pulse back into the trembling equipoise of stillness, yes, stop it moving, stop the circling thought.   Pour its iridescence back into the floor-boards, mischief is the excess of things.

Baphomet sigils

Again and again I would leave the room and creep through the little opening back into the kitchen where the jovial woman reigns among her kitchen stove, sink, steamer-pots, pans, peas and parsnips which she baked in sesame oil.   She – her sympathy with me is cooling.   I am beginning to lose her alliance, she turns her back on me, she looks perturbed, she’s bending over the oven, its heat is all around.   “Wait, can’t you,” she snaps   “It isn’t ready.   In this house are hundreds of lives to feed …”

And then I must return again to do whatever it was that I was doing.   “What are you stirring up?”   she asked suddenly.

Shepherdess, 1988

Shepherdess, 1988

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A time came for final retreat from the room where my body lay.   It was full now of elementars, and of vaccuums of a viscous grey entity whose force was stronger than I,  and frightened me very much.   Last time I went in, a shrill twittering and shrieking greeted me.   I saw a live horned bat hovering outside one of the windows.   There are windows to this room, windows to some further degree of night that cannot be uttered.   This bat was hungry. It was attracted by the light.  It would come in and sweep its dubious soul through every dark dream in the house at the other side of the aperture.   But into light the bat flies blind.   The light makes it stupid, it cannot see.   So I left the Light on in that room.   I closed the door and pulled the green cloth screen down over it and escaped back to the kitchen and to the company of the genial Queen Bee.

Lovers & their History

Lovers & their History

“There’s a bat there now,”  I told her, trying not to shake too much.   “I left the light on in the room.   For a creature of darkness, light is a Black Hole.   It extinguishes the night vision.   It makes the creature’s sight collapse in on itself, it is gravity sort of, in reverse, so it’s alright isn’t it? to stop the bat at the window?   Otherwise it’d just go on and on, find all the dark that is in the world …”

But the jovial woman was very alarmed.   “On no account must you go back there!” said she.   “Yes, it is well that you left light there.   That bat is eternity.   Eternity is looking in.   Eternity is wanting to belong in,  to own just one little room of time.   Eternity is you and your curiosity, you foolish child.”

“But,”  I said  “I made a barrier of light,  the illumined room of the witch.   It bars the bat from flitting through the room and the door and –  and into where people are living in all the bedrooms –  oh –  what if I left a crack,  an opening?    I’ve got to – go back,  haven’t I?”

The woman said,  “Yes,  you’d better.   To be sure within yourself.”

Crevassemoth Ally - Sketch

Crevassemoth Ally – Sketch

I went back.   One more time,  to make sure all is safe and secure.   I had forgotten one thing in my haste,  which is to cover the door and the green screen with the cloth.

So I crawl again through the stuffy aperture in the skirting-board, up through the passage of night and down the murky stairs.   The staircase now is full of horror.   Hesitating at the top, I steeled myself.   Now I am plunging into an abyss, entangled in a grotesque cobweb from the bannisters, ropes that grope to strangle me.   At the bottom I pull the cloth covering right down over the door, over the green screen that covers the door, tucking the edges of the cloth closely in all round to leave no gaps.   The screen yields to my touch as if it hangs free and is alive.   I pull it down closer to the ground, hoping there is no way through for the bat.   The Light will stay on always, as a lure to the whole force of the bat.   It will curve its particles of will inward, how can it go anywhere else?

Then I escaped up the stairs.   I looked back.   The cloth hung still, quiet and pale over the door, with a great rose coloured cross designed upon it, which reached to its height and breadth.  And when I looked back again, there hung upon the rose-coloured cross the witch, who has apparently been put back in place.   But this time no cap hides her head.   It is a human head, sorrowful with drooping eyelids and long brown hair combed as if for some ceremony.

rose cross seeds of light

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In this house are hundreds of rooms.

They are the honeycomb of my sad soul,  soul of the world,  for “being” is transcendent,  measureless through all the rooms.   “Being” is you and I and the fields that we know and the seas that we don’t.   In infinite depth or series of transparency, I look out through every  window of history.   There is no floor.   The gleam of light that is realised in consciousness within, through  and beyond this house of hundreds of rooms deeper than the Universe, is a key to the world.

World tarot compass

World tarot compass

The passage back to the key-hole – aperture to the kitchen of the jovial woman who reigns in and feeds a house of hundreds of rooms – intersected another passage on the way.   I discovered this passage opening out to the left.   It is a big and open flight of stairs descending towards the basement, to the nether regions of the house.   I can hear people, the voices of men down there.   Perhaps they are working,  or repairing something.   I seem to hear the percussive ring of tools.

I have been down that great staircase a little way, but not to the bottom.

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ramana & annamalai brick laying

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Here is a song of the Earth and Sea.  I painted it many years later, while listening to Cesar Franck’s joyous Symphonic Variations.  “Crevassemoth” is a meeting of the elements in my soul, where waves break into Earth, atoms interact and shadow spills Light.   It is an alchemical transmutation.  The sun glints my golden path in the waters’ embrace.

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Crevassemoth Alchemy 1987

Crevassemoth Alchemy 1987

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More dream stories in this series, are in the Watershed Tales Category on the sidebar.

WordPress make it great fun to insert a mosaic gallery and wonder what order they will show up in.  This post was intended to be “pictorially restrained” with a small gallery at the end – even so, a surprising number of ideas popped up from my files;  I discarded about half of them, so this is what is left.

GALLERY

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.

Aquariel Link

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/

Sun Manifesto

“Dreams are illustrations from the book your soul is writing about you.” Marsha Norman

This quote appeared on the wp link column, just as I was posting.

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Discovery 1963 - a painting done at school

Discovery 1963 – a painting done at school

Last week, a spontaneous meditation arose in my journal, after posting “A Bed for a Language“.  Then at the weekend, my father rang up about the Voice he heard at night, which told him: “I am You are a particle-ar expression of the universe. There is no separation”.   (See previous post, The Wrestlers).

This is germane to a new wheel – sphere – of time.   I’d like to know who else is feeling this, and seeing through a frameless window:  2013.   For sure, many bloggers are.

old Kabbalah engraving - look through into Beriah

old Kabbalah engraving – look through into Beriah

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(23 January) – Here is last week’s brief, profound  impression:  it came in the early morning before I got up.  It is simple.  Elect to KNOW, that all about and in and around me are atomic particles of prana – the BEING to breathe into – my traumas too, are life giving atoms – seeds of Consciousness.   Rather than weep and wail with their nightmare (=tension), let trauma particles convert into prana particles, which in essence they are.  The tidal breath.   Walk the shining sands within my heart.

This potentially changes everything.  It is the Great Meditation of the Sun;  the grains of sand in Mother Ganga.

It is a crucial transmutation to this day and age.

Why?  Because the imprint of despair, fear and pain DISABLES whole societies.   Whereas the conversion of it to prana-awareness EMPOWERS me and you in all directions, as society.  It is subtle, inward and secret.  We have to keep practicing.

The solar photon moves in every direction of infinity, connecting with itself.  Life on earth is a golden lattice through the waters.  Gold in the rock is congealed sunlight.   The sun on a wet street is a path of gold.  Yet we value more, our trinkets!   What monkeys we are.  Keep practicing.  Keep opening the shutters.

Self empowering is the decision to charge each particle positively, unhampered by regret, rage or revenge.   A radically different Universe/environment opens.   The collective human consciousness is pinned down at the moment by a mass negative persuasion, afflicting us at every level of lower Yetzirah (World of Formation, the psyche).   To some observers, this appears as the Greys, aliens, insomnia and paranoid government conspiracies.

Self empowering is the local decision anywhere, to turn this fantasy – the miasm – RIGHT ROUND, here and now.   Despair, negativity and horror are socially acceptable and condoned – a deep herd instinct, blinkers –  a corral into which to shove the sheep.  Yes, what appears to be a sinister focus clumps together and is self made.  And yes, here and now is the alternative,  to embody, and to make it CONTAGIOUS in any way we can.  But it needs exercise.  Take off the blindfold.  Blow the brave gold dandelion clock.   It explodes into seeds of light:  speech.

The seeds are dainty, fragile, almost invisible.  But they are SUNS.  But they are Suns, and nothing (when they are aware and embodied) can adulterate them.  Nothing can destabilize Reality.

So … to locate the dandelion seeds in and around heart and solar plexus being, sponsoring these rather than the old metalled road of Name and Blame – is the high and inward art.

solar lioness orbits 1988

solar lioness orbits 1988

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I am practical about God.   I am a subatomic particle in God’s body, and I wake up.  Even just sometimes for a moment, is a start.  I am a starling in the flock murmuration, and I wake up.   Gravity is the action of co-creativity.   Nothing moves in isolation, except thoughts which are apparently born, strive and die.   Blind thoughts.

What do I identify with?   The dark thought which stresses so invitingly?  Or the seed of Light?

My thoughts and wounds and resistance are local turbulences which like sunspots appear dark against the Light.   They are the Light – intensely so.   My thoughts when I awaken, disrobe – like the man and his coat with the blustering wind which tried to blow it off him, and the sun whose warmth made him take it off.   And I am not alone.

The dark thought is One and the Same –  seed of Light.

To truly recollect the stepped-up Presence of the Companions of the Light … stop to feel  the atoms – pin-points of space and being.   Let my brackish brick panics  crumble into the golden powder of the Light:  self empowerment – hold the lamp and light my way.

Key arcanum 9:  Hermit Yod - Hermetic Tarot 1991

Key arcanum 9: Hermit Yod – Hermetic Tarot 1991

This is the purpose of catastrophes in life – for the Awakening power which converts them.  The Awakening power is a COMMAND STATION.   I command.  It is my sweet revenge on the delusion in all ages which harassed and trampled the feminine earth and our children.

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"God - as the ignorant misconceive him" - arcanum 15, hermetic tarot 1991

“God – as the ignorant misconceive him” – arcanum 15, hermetic tarot 1991

Paul Foster Case wrote: “Materialistic science seldom perceives that what it calls ‘laws of nature’ are no more than incomplete reports of what has been observed by persons in nowise liberated from the delusions engendered by superficial interpretation of appearances.  All that any research worker in any field of science can study, is what enters his mind through his impression of sensation.  If he change his outlook, he will enter another world, and will be able to wield powers which go beyond the limits of the mere statistical averages … For modern science, a ‘law of nature’ is actually no more than a statement of what probably may be expected in a given set of circumstances …” 

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“… The inverted pentagram on the Devil’s brow is the ignorant belief that will power is of personal origin, so that each human being has a will of his own which he is free to exert, contrary to the laws of God and nature.”

Builders of the Adytum (www.bota.org)

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Link to The Reckless Fruit (2)

So … we flip that pentacle round.  We poke some fun at the pompous old billy.  We tweak his beard.  We laugh at ourselves.

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Anne Davies, Paul Foster Case & Students in the 1940s

Anne Davies, Paul Foster Case & Students in the 1940s

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The Will of the Wheel of the Sun, is the power of all the Worlds, of which I am you are a particle.

My father heard this also, independently, a few days later.  And you?

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(24 January) – The same particle brushes the Himalayas with a feather each aeon of the Tahagatha –  or appears as Hermes to my untidy kitchen table.  Reality has infinite space, inward as out.

A still small voice from time to time brings me thoughts of a deep transformative simple kind which I long to grasp and make permanent !  It is to do with non-possessive, non-possessed.   They slip away like fish.  The intention feels weak because I cannot pin it down, yet it is vast like GRAVITY (or starlings).  The still small voice leads the way from thickets into the light.   Trust it.   It will keep coming, and it is only my monkey mind which is weak.

Professor Branestawme inside the clock orbits

Professor Branestawme inside the clock orbits, 1988

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Lead, lead, lead into and as the Light.

Yes, the notion of prana particle is – translates in life to – self empowerment, authority to be myself, and to select where and how and with whom I want to be – as Hermes Trismegistos said, re deep sea fish and mountain high – (see the quotation below).   It coopts to the  (divine) operation of the Will.

Hermes & Pythoness

Hermes & Pythoness 1987

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Hermes sings:

“Become higher than all height, lower than all depths, comprehend in yourself the qualities of all the creatures, of the Fire, the Water, the Dry, and Moist, and conceive likewise that you can at once be everywhere, in the Sea, in the Earth. 

“You shall at once understand yourself, not yet begotten in the womb, young, old, to be dead, the things after death, and all these together, as also times, places, deeds, qualities, quantities – or else you cannot yet comprehend God. 

“But if you shut up your soul in the body, and abuse it, and say ‘I understand nothing, I can co nothing, I am afraid of the Sea, I cannot climb up to Heaven, I know not who I am, I cannot tell what I shall be’ –  What have you to do with God?  For you can understand none of those fair and good things AND be a lover of the evil limitation.  For it is the greatest evil, not to know God.

“But to be able to know, and to will, and to hope, is the straight way, and Divine way, proper to the Good;  and it will everywhere meet you, and everywhere be seen by you, plain and easy, when you don’t expect or look for it;  it will meet you waking, sleeping, sailing, travelling, by night, by day, when you speak, and when you keep silence.  For there is nothing which is not the Image of God.”

Hermes Trismegistos,  
Divine Pymander 10th Book:  The Mind to Hermes, Dr Everard translation

Hermes and the age of Pisces

Hermes and the age of Pisces

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It amounts to – not being tangled in the hedge of neurotic fears, but to place my aim (I am) on the particle … like a little skateboard.   Keep practicing.   Little particles, like motes in sunbeam, move around and through my middle.  My vessels.  Decision.   The Window.

abba aima ama:   ahieh asher ahieh

(Father, dark-Mother, light-Mother:  I am That I am, as spoken from the burning bush.  Moses had a speech impediment:  he could not pronounce consonants.  So the Name given him to pronounce, being consonant-free, has no impediment, no separation.

Of the same kind are TAT TWAM ASI – that thou Art /sanskrit, and the Tamil NAM YAR? who am I? /Ramana Maharshi.)

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Before Reality (satori) chop wood, draw water – after satori chop wood, draw water:  a Kabbalist friend has a very good version of this story, when he gets back from work this evening, I shall call him, and add it here.   For me, the strange discomfort of being human.  Headache, incipient unwell cold, insomnia & weary …  Time stops and life goes on.   Much to balance out.  Does the old brook complain about flowing over grit and sharp earthy stones?

Hermes Trismegistos Alexandria lineage - ja 2003

Hermes Trismegistos Alexandria lineage – ja 2003.  Note the Thoth bird ibis, standing on the dragon

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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.

NB – new post arriving in Aquariel shortly

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/