10 May 2015 Journal – I dreamed of going down an almost sheer grassy cliff towards the sea below, and then worried if I was stuck, if I could climb back up, or if I would slip right down and be killed. I clung.
I thought yesterday about anger – my anger: how it enrages when “you” annoy me. It is destructive. I wonder how much its presence distorts my view of life, persons and journal. I see the rage outspoken; it accumulates all life’s disappointments into a tirade.
Rage is usually the breaking wave of a long historic swell, and it uses the rock it finds. It uses the rock it finds to blame; but the rock is not to blame. The love or the man or the woman or the child or the political situation is not to blame. They help the wave to break. This is an interesting angle. Then rage (however furious) is a valuable condition, to witness and to walk with. Can I next time, say to it: “You are valuable, you are a breaking wave, you release fire and salt, you are more than what or whom I think you are….” ?
The rage won’t like that, because its nature is to pile the entire cause onto the person who offended, and on ME. The raw force of feeling pushes physical pain in belly, tension, collywobbles, incoherent speechmaking, off-the-wall, out-of-order and frustration. These are all invention! Try telling that to my rage, next time.
A drawing with eyes closed
It passes when it is shared. After we talk, it becomes a vibrant – if un-smooth – channel and transforms to love and relief – on a wall outside at night in Canfield Gardens with my tiny phone. I am when it is full on, scared of what it might do – it wants to upset everyone and their social arrangements, it is ME-ME-ME. A Capricorn has a slow fuse but a long one, and when it gets going, it is volcanic. The bit is in the horse’s teeth, and galloping, and the rider cannot control or stay the horse, but whispers along the reins: this won’t help, you are too angry, you won’t be able to say it like this, try saying this instead, remember to make it a discussion, do a deep breath, (I don’t want to) – do another one, you are in the Great Work (so what?), what would an alchemist say? (don’t care). The bit is in the horse’s teeth, and the horse’s mouth is insensitive to my hands.
Your response when I am angry, is to value and allow the feeling and to help it to lighten up and laugh. The splatter of wave-break words falls out of sight, because with the current some of them get said, some of the eggs get laid, some of them splash on the rock.
Stephen Szegedy Szuts at Caunce Head, Cornwall
There is a deep need to be honest. This fuels the rage. But look: isn’t the truth itself the long historic wave from the ocean? The anger is the white bit crashing over the rocks. Truth comes out and changes the setting between two persons. It shares. I carried a cargo of personal opinions at the crest; I give them all up. I suddenly see that you have, I have, the freedom to be who we are. And I say to you: I love this peculiar way we are. I will talk, but at a trot, not a headlong gallop.
I think I am a failure but this is NOT TRUE! The anger is a gold-rush. The waves which peak as anger, close to land, are generated far back in the subconscious sea, and arrive rhythmically. They carry a glorious energy, like a concentric sound wave or song. These waves travel and break around all our coastlines, and from above, they form beautiful interwoven crescents and wrinkles as they bestow their beauty on the land: as life breaks forth.
WOW! How unexpected, this morning. What a fish!
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And now:down memory lane (May 2015), I find something for dog lovers:
… with David and Maya yesterday. I dug a large hole for the smallish hedge tree we hope to transplant – it is drinking water in a large bucket for a day or two, it hasn’t much root-ball left. I made a soft path along the “tunnel” to the garden, with two bags of woodchip, so it doesn’t get muddy. Maya loves the woodchip smell and lay down on the pile before I started to rake it. David was having a sharp pain day and couldn’t go out.
I took Maya for a long walk up to Sandy Heath woods. Her guard dog nature is increasingly focused on David and on me, and she never goes out of sight: she turns to see, she stops and waits. Sometimes she comes to rub my legs joyfully – “thank you for bringing me here.” Her black panther beauty and pointed ears sway her lean hips, kool cat, along bluebells, wild garlic and uphill down dale through the woods and under dense beeches, oaks and alder – beautiful companionship and love – she meets and plays briefly with a variety of other canines, learning the pecking order while I chat with their owners. Some of them are nervous.
On Sandy Heath through the oak meadows, we came to a pond up there, with a beach of tiny dry stones. She looked at me – Yes you can go in the water – in she went with big splashes and lunges, to fetch bits of wood I threw for her – and out of her depth she swam powerful doggy paddle, smiling sharp white teeth pink tongue snorting, then big shake-shake sparkle when she came out.
Poor David was horrified to hear this news (on our way home), having just cleaned the pad of fallen black hairs, and mopped the floor – he thinks the ponds up there are filthy, and it is actually the first time Maya has gone SWIMMING, because the brook where she plays is not quite deep enough – but she came home clean as a whistle, I dried her in the garden with a towel, and groomed and brushed out her loose hairs, and she ran indoors just a bit damp, and eager for her wolfie supper, and glossy shining black velvet fox all over, to lie down on the floor and enjoy us while we wolfed our M&S ready meals and stretched out our feet.
… took Maya around bluebell-oak-wild garlic Big Wood. She is a very powerful creature and might give me a black eye with her big loving nose and warm musky kisses, if I’m not careful. D says she is quite naughty at the moment, and he teaches and trains her constantly. We talk about her all the time eagerly, and billows of love roll over her. I combed her again in the garden – her winter coat is falling out. I never truly understood dogs in people’s lives – (Dubi wasn’t really a dog, he was a Saluki) – until this one, who is profoundly and archetypally dog. The dog-human wavelength is vibrant and mysterious.
Dubi in the brook
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Vision: how beautiful the tough stuff anger is, with all the pain and sharp animal energy it carries. How astonishing is the wave pattern, woven around our coastlines, the way the bird-shapes burst from the rock. The beauty is lived and acknowledged, sometimes with difficulty, always with reality. I have with this, a LIBERATION – the visceral golden truth of what my private relationships have at their core – and to this I remain true and undivided.
The moment contains no name
or word.
Yes, and the sweet human
friend in their faces
and their laughter at restaurants
like a child with daisies threading split stems –
the magic circle lets you go and takes
you up, again and again
and over and over
with human beings;
the lover, the Friend,
the “one thing” (they say)
is the play of the waters … so I do not get those
“Solemn Meditative States”.
Poems of Eclipse, 1999
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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 alsoAquariel and Gene Keys Diary.
Enjoy Beethoven’s 9th – the Hymn to Joy as played across the Netherlands!
For embodying Odes to Joy, you may like to visit and dance Five Rhythms with Ajay https://www.5rhythms.com/teachers/Ajay+Rajani He now holds online dance sessions through the Wave on Tuesdays at 7. Anyone may join with Zoom and dance all together in our homes. I will post the link here as soon as I have it. “Flowing movement through the chaos” (he said) – “that is what the chaos is here for; for you to dance through it.”
In this long post I compile some insights and impressions I received from others over the last month and pass them on in the hope that they may help. You may have read some of them already. I also have rather a lot to say, as usual – this time, a mini-book. I’m afraid this is my usual fault whenever I start writing, so please bear with me, and skip my musings if they are not relevant.
In my block of flats someone has an electronic piano and each day at intervals she practices Bach prelude no 1 in C major, and others. I went to my piano to play the same prelude! A strange rooted strength from the collective flowed through my arms and fingers. Shall we talk to each other through Bach?
The Chinese goddess Kuan Yin in her Parnashavri aspect became a Hindu deity. She is also adopted in Buddhism as protector against outbreaks of disease.
Kwan Yin. This portrait now belongs to Annie Dorcas in the “Masters series” she commissioned from me in 2007.
“Human mistakes and inaccuracies are no less important than divinity. The incredible process of being human allows for the higher self to acknowledge and extract divinity from ones trials and tribulations.
“Further, Kuan Yin advises that what is needed on earth is compassion for the untruth. Touching untruth’s shoulder with the utmost tenderness, she shows her infinite capacity for love and forgiveness. Stemming the tide of war and destruction can only occur, the Goddess maintains, through the sprinkling elements of truth and healing.
“This process requires one be centered upon and understand the issues of his or her life from a place of detachment. To examine ones life from this perspective allows the Higher Self to participate in daily choices and problem solving. While ego is responsible for maintaining the self during waking reality, much of the pressure of decision-making can be mitigated when allowing ones relationship with the higher-self to unfold.”
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A Pharmacist I spoke to, said: “The virus is omnipresent through interaction of our human generic body with environment. It isn’t something passing from one person to another. ALL OF US HAVE GOT IT BUT SOME INDIVIDUALS REACT WITH SYMPTOMS – OTHERS NOT. Like other flu viruses, it is in the human system generally. The different ways we react depend on our inbuilt physical and psychological matrix. Those of us who do not react symptomatically might not know it’s there. The heroic effort to prevent it can be sometimes an interference. Interference which is ignorant of the viral nature may also stimulate it.”
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As I understand this, the viral entity interacts with the human entity. Covid19 is one among many flu viruses which flow through the human system and sometimes manifest as symptoms and sometimes not. Year by year the health services battle with vaccines against each new one.
What is my “vaccine” for now? Positive, intelligent thought, courage and considerate action. Be on the ball and bathe in the Sea. Of course I have the virus. It is in my fearful thoughts and dark holes and grumpiness. I feel sore and vulnerable to those, which flag up my personal ego-misery-belief. My dark projection isolates the phenomenon into thingness and determines the way I interpret life.
Viral activity – and I include excessive social media – is yet an element within what I see as a vast agency of change through humankind at the present time. The virus is malleable; it changes lives; it is our teacher. I have it, you have it, it is in us all. The pattern of “trying to control it” may reinforce in the same way our shadow fears and thoughts, so we need to be aware of those. The researchers and medics do their work. The virus should not however take front burner in our mind; let go the compulsive quizzes, let life go on. Above all, don’t join the game of someone or something to blame.
Psyche and body are one: my thoughts create and reinforce my physical life through expectation. Tune into the individual responsibility, the love and care for each other – the little lights here and there around the globe increase like stars and begin to join up.
Someone also said, “Ignorance has made a massive collective effort to constrict the life force wanting to burst from our bodies.”
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The “I” particle (higgs-bosen) in the quantum science of Global Energy Parliament. Red, Black, White are equivalent to the Three Gunas in Hinduism.
Swami Isa of the Global Energy Parliament.net spoke on 21 February – Sivaratri day. A friend in GEP sent to me the gist of it:
Swamiji wants everyone to take the global situation very seriously, but to be ever vigilant about the quality of our thoughts and emotions. He says this is an “intellectual war” and a dark dominated thought has been created. We need to create balance in ourselves and externally too. Hope you are taking good care.
He said … it’s a war of intellect or Buddhi – here he means the organ of thought. It was manmade and is pervasive and deeply penetrating. Together with this, he spoke about the coming problem of faithlessness in people, and how people are just “considering God but not realising God.”
To resist this virus and to not be affected by the fear and destruction in this mental war, we need to build mental strength or Manas. Manas/mind means the organ of emotions. Of course this comes through real faith, not contrived faith. The physical part He says is very serious and we should take care to build the physical immunity along with the intellectual and mental.
And yes, the kindness and softness of people that comes out of this crisis is a treasure… So far India is not yet in a panic stage, but I think that once shutdowns start, it may happen. Most people are still going about normal duties, except that the schools are closed.
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This story was written by a member of Global Energy Parliament:
And the great blue whale, the small spider, the cherry blossom, the coconut palm, the moss-covered stone, they all came. One by one, the animals and trees and rivers and rocks of Earth climbed the great steps in the sky to see the Mother of the Universe and tell their sorrows.
And after hearing all of them, including the beetle and the bluebell, Mother closed Her great eyelids and the feathery black lashes fell down over Her eyes that held galaxies.
A thought came out of the darkness, “My children are tired, sad, and besieged by the humans who have forgotten Me. In their endless piles of desires and fears, they have become merciless tyrants on the Earth.”
The voice of the shark had been loud and thoughtful. “O Mother, we do not ask a large thing. We don’t want to annihilate our human brothers and sisters. We just want to breathe freely, to roam freely, to swim in free blueness, to dance with the stars again in clear skies, without fear of harm or harming. Just for a day.”
“Just a day?” She had asked.
“Yes, just one day,” he had said. “We know the conditions of Kali Yuga, the age of darkness, are so vast and deep, that we do not ask You to overturn what the mighty wheel of Time has ordained. We just ask for one day of peace and freedom again to roam as we should, to live without this incessant noise and burden of humankind.”
The tiger cub had approached Her soft ankle, and as She lifted him to Her face and stroked his fur, he said, “Mother, they have forgotten you. They live by desire and fear alone. You are the Mother of the Universe. Won’t it be very easy to do something, just for one day?”
She had considered their proposal. A day to make the humans stay indoors, a day to make them consider their mountains of desires which brought them no happiness, a day to make them see that their endless planning and developments brought them no freedom, a day to make them see the fear that ate them from the inside out.
“A day to make all the humans stay inside their homes,” She said. “So be it.”
And as She closed Her eyes, from Her brow came a great Thought, and planted itself somewhere on the Eastern part of the Earth, and it spread like wildfire through human thought. It replicated with force, like a virus, and fear made it grow. Desires made it grow.
But in the deepest parts of the human hearts who had not forgotten Her, the light of faith led them forward.
And then one day, all of the humans, those with fear and those with faith, stopped their factories, went inside their houses, closed their doors, and sat down.
The plants heaved a great sigh of relief, and slowly unfurled their delicate fingers, to touch the Sun, the Air. The Wind laughed playfully as he swept the dust to the horizon, and the Ocean once again danced with its millions of colourful children. A slow day of peace and contentment embraced the Earth, a day of nothing in particular except reverence, sincerity, and truth.
At last when the Sun dipped down towards the lowest hills, the animals and trees and rivers and rocks turned their heads upwards. They prayed to the Mother and cast their endless love to Her. Finally they turned and said, “So be it.”
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I think the virus is also in the mind, generating fear. I am counteracting that with very strong thoughts and feelings of gratitude and care. They come spontaneously with an upsurge of gravitational centre – a smile! – especially after I have felt anxious for a bit. A counter current of creativity, liberation and joy flows in many places wherever realised. I take care of the life in my hands but I refuse to be dominated by collective panic. As you say, it is crucial to co-create the balance. So the balance is where I look each time.
There is a greater process unfolding. It is behind the fear-cloud which is at present being expelled from the human root. I see the fear-cloud as a phenomenon that is departing from us. The mental virus which gripped people about it makes us feel the more vulnerable – especially in the social media.
The physical disease is a symptom of the mental agitation, to me they are one and the same whatever the white coats might say. At the same time there is a new clarity and beauty in the Higher Self; as Above so it is Below.
What a challenge to live in freedom and external considering! We can choose. To keep discerning this – to recognise the tracks in my mind and change them is my work. My mother and I had some good conversations about it. One aspect of the counter-current I notice is: taking more care of and appreciating each other. Walking the extra mile. Noticing more.
It is a question of attitude. I am so glad we are in touch. Strong hands!
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Builders of the Adytum – The Tarot Tableau
The Builders of the Adytum in Los Angeles circulated this Equinox Message
Planetary Influences in 2020 March 2020
While the turmoil in the world seems to be intensifying as the old world order disintegrates, it is informative to consider the planetary influences converging on us this year. 2020 started with five planets in Capricorn, and strong planetary groupings will continue their influence throughout most of the year.
At the March equinox, Mars, Pluto, Jupiter, and Saturn will all be in very close proximity to each other in the earthy sign Capricorn, associated with worldly affairs, big business, and finance. These are the areas that seem globally to be out of alignment with the Aquarian Age themes of harmony, goodwill, and concern for one’s fellow man. In addition to these, the Moon (Tarot Key 2, the Uniting Intelligence) also joins this group just before the equinox.
All the planets mentioned are within a very narrow band of eight degrees or “conjunction,” and this focused association with each other displays certain characteristics according to the nature of each planet. Conjunctions intensify the combined energies, and the interaction can stimulate significant changes in the consciousness of mankind. And we know that to have an evolutionary change, the race mind must change!
Most significant is the tight conjunction of Pluto (Tarot Key 20) with Saturn (Tarot Key 21). Pluto, considered the “higher octave” of Mars, is related to the destruction of the coffins of error that hold us in bondage. The outer planet Pluto is a generational planet; and it primarily portends great transformational changes in world matters and race consciousness, changes that affect us all macro cosmically.
The interaction of Pluto and Mars (Tarot Key 16) with the other planets in the configuration indicates that there are likely to be explosive reactions that will bring about the destruction of outworn conditions but will also give the impetus for new beginnings. The influence of Jupiter (Tarot Key 10) indicates that these outcomes are the ultimate of a beneficent nature.
It will be interesting to observe just what effect these planetary influences have on the world stage during this time period.
Microcosmically, we are also personally impacted by these strong energies. As aspirants on the Path of Return, we should choose our responses to these influences very consciously, not reacting with the normal fear and anxiety of the masses, but by using our toolsof Tarot and Qabalah to react creatively and constructively to these intractable forces. This is what we are being trained to do.
Being born on the cusp of a New Age brings incredible gifts along with the turmoil, gifts that we bear the responsibility of safeguarding and developing for all mankind. No one ever told us the Aquarian Age would be easy! But oh, what an opportunity for growth! …for ourselves, and for planet Earth. Let us be grateful for these gifts, and that we are here now to enjoy their rewards.
Working together in Love and L.V.X., The Builders of the Adytum
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13 March 2020 – From the Italian Lockdown
Yes there is fear. Yes there is isolation. Yes there is panic buying.
Yes there is sickness. Yes there is even death.
But, they say that in Wuhan after so many years of noise
You can hear the birds again.
They say that after just a few weeks of quiet
the sky is no longer thick with fumes
but blue and grey and clear.
They say that in the streets of Assisi people are singing to each other
across the empty squares, keeping their windows open
so that those who are alone
may hear the sounds of family around them.
They say that a hotel in the West of Ireland
Is offering free meals and delivery to the housebound.
Today a young woman I know is busy spreading fliers with her number
through the neighbourhood so that the elders may have someone to call on.
Today Churches, Synagogues, Mosques and Temples
are preparing to welcome and shelter the homeless, the sick, the weary.
All over the world people are slowing down and reflecting.
All over the world people are looking at their neighbours in a new way.
All over the world people are waking up to a new reality
to how big we really are;
to how little control we really have;
to what really matters; to Love.
So we pray and we remember that yes there is fear but there does not have to be hate.
Yes there is isolation but there does not have to be loneliness.
Yes there is panic buying but there does not have to be meanness.
Yes there is sickness, but there does not have to be disease of the soul.
Yes there is even death,
but there can always be a rebirth of love.
Wake to the choices you make as to how to live now.
Today, breathe.
Listen, behind the factory noises of your panic.
The birds are singing again.
The sky is clearing, Spring is coming
and we are always encompassed by Love.
Open the windows of your soul
and though you may not be able to touch across the empty square,
… Sing.
– Fr. Richard Hendrick, OFM
March 13th 2020
Alison McCabe writes from Hebden Bridge: – “Yesterday tuning into the virus as part of the One Body I felt it is no coincidence it affects the respiratory system. I experienced the Earth able to breathe again, a huge moment of release from the constriction of pollution. It’s possible the forests burning meant we were on the edge of a catastrophic atmosphere event which has been averted by the virus. The virus being a mirror of the constriction of the Earth and human love breaking free. I see that when I see the flamingo toking into the water and seeing her blush soft pink reflection. Such a perfect colour for Universal Love.
“Pallas Athena the Warrior Goddess is also exactly conjunct Mars in the Equinox stellium in GK61. She is in the context the self-organising principle, the new authority of the feminine. Perhaps she is the salmon, leaping against all odds upstream from the place of zero gravity.”
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Tantra Nova Practice – a message from Elspeth and Freddy in Chicago
We want to support you during these challenging times by sharing ways of keeping our body, heart and mind in a balanced and peaceful state which allows for fending off viral and bacterial intruders as well as assists us in healing and experiencing wellness.
To support your emotional and mental SELF stay and return to balance, we’d like to gift you with a couple of meditation practices:
This meditation supports you in rebalancing and integrating your whole being countering stress, worries and hopelessness. Set aside 25 minutes every day to cultivate your body’s resources and strengthen your immune system. Download both practices on your phone so you can access them anytime and anywhere.
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My friend Genevieve wrote today on surrender. This is her website:
“These are the times when we grow.” I found myself writing this to a friend this evening.
This week my husband and I decided to start self-isolating. Amongst the perceived confusion and chaos currently being experienced in the UK (and across the globe) due to the fast spreading COVID-19, there is a benign virus emerging and its called surrender. Things have moved pretty fast in a short few weeks I think you would agree?
No longer can we deny our global interconnection. No more can we bury our heads in the sand and pretend that borders are secure, futures are predictable and comfort zones are forever. No more. The world is changing all around us and all we have left in many instances are our stories about what this change means. As I have written about many times, our stories can either enable us to transform and grow, or they can bring us perpetually back around to negative loops of victimhood. The only thing we can influence is our choice as to which mythology we live within.
Every story has both a light, and a dark side. The question is, can you distinguish between the two?
The familiar story of social collapse and apocalypse can be devastating to those who are attached to things remaining the same. Especially those of us (most people in the first world) have been privileged enough to live life’s of abundance and plenty through the perpetuation of capitalism.
The same story can be liberating if you are at the wrong end of the social power system and are desperate for change, no matter what this may bring. In this instance you will feel empowered and excited by the prospect of the unknown, even if what’s coming is scary and chaotic.
Every story has a truth and a challenge. The apocalypse story has been repeated throughout the ages, relating to civilisations, world views and lands. It is one that has become ingrained in the human psyche through our DNA memory and our myth. To a degree, there is an inherent truth to its unfolding and many of us could argue that we have been seeing the signs of its coming all around us for decades.
However, with the ‘truth’ the story also brings its challenge. Can we evolve enough in our thinking, speaking and acting to change the outcome this time?
Perhaps… Then again, perhaps not. Perhaps we will change the outcome but its effect will be imperceivable for generations to come. Or perhaps we already are changing it, with every single word we read, Or say. Or write.
Every time we straddle the paradox of the light and the dark, seeing both as presenting a truth and a challenge in our thinking, speaking and doing, we are able to evolve beyond the historical patterns that have led to past apocalyptic events.
Every time we surrender and embrace change, no matter if we can see its eventual outcome, we are transforming our DNA and the stories of our ancestors who largely felt victimised and helpless in the face of the changes they experienced.
And we are by no means helpless.
Today we move into the Spring Equinox. The day in the Northern hemisphere where there is an equal amount of day-light to night-dark.
This is a time of magic and alchemy where we get to choose ‘active surrender’ and ‘joyful hope’. A time where we can offer our gifts to our family and community because they need it and we need to give it.
A moment when we can embrace both the truth and the challenge of our times and become the still point between night and day.
My daughter wrote to me – “Did you know soap is more effective than anti-bac gels with added antivirus? Viruses are fatty and soap disrupts fat, so simply causes the virus to disintegrate. So that’s all that’s needed at home. When you’re out, you could use alcohol gel or improvise. So lots of hand washing before and after being out, touching new things and no face touching before hand washing. Can’t do much about talking to people except try not to stand close to them – 6 feet unless there’s a breeze I guess. Face masks only protect others from people who have it already so no point using them for protection. The next few weeks will be interesting!”
“Or steaming the face in a bason of very hot water with towel over head might have the same effect. I bought you some cordiceps which strengthens the immune system, raises red and white blood-cells and is easy and pleasant to take. I’ll try to drop it round, later today. Much love XXX
“Just tried the method – pour boiling water into basin or bowl, lower face over it, drape head with towel to keep heat in and breathe thro nose for five mins. It is a facial sauna. The theory is that heat destroys virus in the sinuses, which are otherwise the coolest part of body. Feels nice and refreshing too! Viruses like cold and hate the heat. The video recommends using a hairdryer and squirts of water to cool. XXX
Thank you Chris Elam, for the photo!
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Grandma Corona …coronama (by Bibi 19.3.20)
This too am I: a small mindless bug
searching for soft tissue to live in.
I stare it in the face
though it is too small to see
I thought corona meant crown
but it seems to mean cold.
And now I am a self-isolated grandma.
For if I get sick
I might die.
Somebody talked today about old people
clogging up the hospital system.
Like fur clogging up arteries,
we oldies interrupt the flow.
And perhaps this is simply true.
The old need to make way for the young.
But no, darlings, Now is not about
a cull of the ancients.
In this rattling of the planet
we are all enmeshed,
shaking and afraid
in our web of connection
and the green things and the furry and scaly things and the cycles of the moon
carry on in their glorious rotation
and as we retreat and shut down
and gather the fracture around us
the non-thinking beings have a rest from our
lack of balance, from our
entitlement, from our heedless
slashing through the pathways of life.
From our thinking.
From our
thinking that we can have what
we want.
And we sit in our houses that have now become cocoons.
And we sit
in the lap of our solitude
and feel the strangest stirring of joy.
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The following transmission of Alcazar through Prageet in the “Stargate” teachings introduces the work of Isabelle Benarous. Please visit the website under the transcript for more information.
Beloved Ones, we greet thee, ‘tis Alcazar.
The whole world is reacting to this coronavirus as if it is something totally new, totally unknown – it is not. Yes, it is a new form, and this new form will soon be seen as just another variety of your flu in years to come. Right now the chaos and panic that has been created has also created a great opportunity on many levels.
We have told you this year would be a year of change, a year of acceleration, and a year of opportunity for those who are willing to be in the moment, who are willing to listen to their intuition. There are many opportunities that will arise from this global shutdown/slowing down and we will address these in times to come. We would like to comment right now on an opportunity that Isabelle Benarous, is offering to those who wish to accept it.
First, let us say a little about our perspective on dis-ease which most of you have heard before. It is your vibration, your moment by moment vibration that you radiate, that attracts to you experiences that you need in order to know Self better. We have said over and over again that your subconscious programming, your limiting patterns that come from this unconscious layer within, guide your life far more than you are generally aware of.
This programming comes from situations, mainly, that have occurred in the very early years of your life. They are programs which are created by conflict, by situations that you as a very small child could not understand, could not grasp, and in that inability to resolve those issues at the time, they were repressed in order for you to continue living day by day. These limitations can allow imbalance in the body, and this imbalance allows various dis-eases to come into your field, into your body. So, right now this coronavirus, it is impossible for some people to have this virus within them as an illness. For, they do not have the associated conflicts, the associated subconscious programs that allow this, but obviously many do.
Our friend, Isabelle Benarous, is offering a program that can explain from a more scientific basis how you can:
-first of all understand this virus and the various flu viruses in general
-what kind of conflicts that you would have in your life that would allow this virus to come to you
-how to change these conflicts so that you are no longer open to receive these various flu viruses
And so, we wish to support this one, Isabelle, and we wish to support the Stargate Global Community in understanding and receiving the wisdom from Isabelle which we fully endorse. We will be joining her, as we have done in the past, to bring in energetic support for the understanding and wisdom that she will be sharing. We invite you to join us!
The meeting with Isabelle Benarous to discuss her work was on 25th March, but the video is available on the website as well as follow-up.
Mary Gaia. This painting belongs to Annie Dorcas who commissioned it from me for her series of Master portraits in 2007
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And from a friend on Union Island …
“Breathe and take your time for it,
Be a master of the Present time: Reign by Light and Love.
Being Grateful for each of your breaths”
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And now, to share with you this morning’s breakthrough (27 March):
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My mother had a fall the day before yesterday just as she was approaching the castle gate after her walk but got back on her feet alright and no ill effects. Yesterday she saw in the very early morning Orion setting to the west. We talked today about what appears to rise and set but it is our rotation past it, and the unimaginably vast distance of those stars from each other which we call “Orion” and tell a story about, how he guards our winter sky; and the depth of such a star from his belt. She said we might never see each other again. That is a possibility. It saddens and frightens me. It is still more likely though, that we shall see our way through. It is in the net somehow of the stars, sentinels of the measureless night. She said we must obey the rules regarding visits and separation and help the government and hospitals. She walked up Watery Lane yesterday and saw the primroses. They are abundant this year, full and fat – last year they were sparse. Gradually I learn to connect with her in a “real” way through phone to support her soul strength. Imagination develops and there are ways. We might read verses of poetry to each other, for instance.
At present, sharing house details is fun, funny and stimulating. My daughter and I last night cooked our supper together with our telephones on loudspeaker to hear the chopping board and advise each other. The openings of practical connection in real time blossom everywhere as loved ones improvise. Solidarity!
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I begin to understand my problem with phone calls. It’s because I often felt an emotional obligation in them. Jettison the emotive cloud. I was away from the world yesterday and have no idea how the virus is progressing but I understand it is mushroom-clouding. My inner eye sees it grab the Aries energy and rise toward falling again. It was born (like the Redeemer) during December the midwinter solstice, though it was probably activating in November.
I see a Tao fish. It has its own processional interface with humans. It curves now steeply into the human genome, and will later decline, whatever is done or not done to contain or slow it down. The efforts to contain it are made in the particle interaction (the experimenter’s consciousness determines position or motion).
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Of what use are my insights? We each need to garner our own. But “understanding” is valuable because it is of the world’s Atom. If I have and cultivate it, if it comes to me, be sure others have it too; it prospers here as elsewhere by quantum resonance. I feel physically strange and weak, and yet I am fit and yesterday after I danced I went for a walk and began to run – 200 metres or so each time – with my hips, longish strides, flow; practice this daily, I shall become able to run further. The exercise should not force my body, but consciously open its bliss, smooth movement and natural function, breathing deeply.
These images show the principle applied in proportional balance – the flower of Life. However, we live in a living Universe of Asymmetry.
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Develop this interesting idea which has been around for a month or so, here. Imagine circles or spheres. The curve of the viral circumference enters the curve of the human circumference. It is similar to a partial eclipse. The vesica pisces is at first tiny. Exponentially the oval expands “as above so below” during the period the viral body moves through the collective human body. It grows swiftly at first, and on this basis I guess, most statistical predictions are made and graphs are drawn.
Predictions whether material or occult tend to be made from the observed culture in a single snap-shot or slide. They have to be made continuously over the whole period of growth and decrease to encompass the phenomenon in the fourth dimension. With that understanding the vaccine can be developed. By then, the viral graph is waning!
I don’t know if the researchers regard the virus in this way – a sphere passes through the human sphere and occludes a portion of it as the shadow increases and then decreases. It is unlikely that it is a full eclipse. However it is probably destined through the Law of Hesed and Gevurah (see Kabbalah Tree below) to bite; to stay with us for a period sufficient to start to dismantle and equilibrate the human industrial excess.
Look into Nature and the mystery of Gaia’s Law and order; how it breathes, how it expands with Hesed and contracts with Gevurah. The human hive will reconstruct itself rapidly. There may follow a new wave of the same virus or a fresh virus or some other factor in the general reduction of our species’ speed. The brakes are put on and the force against them is huge at first. It is all ultimately to do with Balances and realignment to universal biorhythm. It is rapid but in our scale it takes time. The Change is here: the tip-point.
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Archangel Mikael – in renaissance art, the expanding oval in the vesica pisces housed angelic figures and the Madonna.
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I register this insight profoundly.
Astrologically I have Pluto in Leo 12th House (stay indoors, go within) and Saturn in Virgo 1st House (obey the rules when I go out.) Pluto dismantles and transmutes infrastructure (centrifugal); Saturn builds boundaries around the continuous result (centripetal).
The full ripening of their interplay in my life arrives in my 8th decade together with the collective coronavirus crisis. This year the South node, Mars, Jupiter, Saturn and Pluto transit my full-moon natal Sun in 24 Capricorn – my 71st birthday. With the Moon joining the stellium on 17 March just before Equinox, the coronavirus situation intensified.
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Conference of creatures, 1987
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There are at least two levels of vaccine. The one is developed by experiment in chemical laboratories. The other – I now perceive – develops a full curve of “the understanding” with Covid19. This may be inbuilt, and manifest as an apparent immunity, or lack of symptoms.
A vaccine gives a dose of the disease sufficient to arouse reactive antibodies against it before it grips the body. “The understanding” doses itself homoeopathically with the disease’s rise and fall as a fluid shaping. The conscious understanding contains the “before” and the “after” in the present. The antibodies in the energy field are small geysers of joy, gratitude and love for others. The disease finds outlet for its expression in this way. Around the world this is happening spontaneously. Our fear of suffocation, isolation and death unites us in the Life.
Watch any part of the sea’s surface: the movement of the waves against, through and with each other.
The full compass of “the understanding” is compassion and social empathy, wherever we are placed – in a refugee camp or in our family home. Being scientific is at root, “self-knowledge” for the etymological seed of “science” is “to know”. The virus attacks etheric and physical imbalance within the system. Its action generates a massive flow of “soldiers” (in alchemy). That rush when it cannot be “understood” or governed is probably what overwhelms the lungs. From what I have heard, it blocks the breath with dry mucus.
Of interest in this light, in the Aurobindo canon is the Mother’s account of her experience in 1919: http://auromaa.org/13-7-a-flu-epidemic-in-japan/ Surely, she healed many others, in turning this one around in herself; for at the cellular level we are all one.
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When I write in this way I feel and am working with the disease as it passes through me. I am reciprocally “flooding it” with my tempo of the understanding.
“The understanding” which Ramesh Balsekar talked about is Wisdom – the innate wisdom of the Universe – a universal solvent or re-balancing. With “the understanding” we move with the world.
Wisdom and Understanding.
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Ramesh and devotee, 1999
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The Kabbalahsociety circulated earlier this week, a new coronavirus Tree of Life to show the general principles.
Tree of Life – Coronavirus – by Kabbalahsociety.org From within the Tree we observe our choice – to look down or to look up? The viewpoint is from each of the three transformative levels – physical, self and visionary – in Tifareth, the heart of the Tree of Life. We start where the condition is earthed – in our body’s response. Then we move deeper and higher through ourselves into the vision of global rebalancing at Kether. Tifareth the sphere of Beauty encompasses the whole movement of root and shoot.
View the situation as a Kabbalist.
I wrote earlier in this post of the waxing and waning “partial eclipse” of human body as virus “body” passes over it: the vesica pisces where two circles of spheres overlap.
With the Tree of Life I am reminded of the crescendo (Hesed) containing the inevitable decrescendo or contraction (Gevurah): the universal interplay of expansion and restraint throughout nature. All things follow the Law: arise, settle, change and fade.
A Tree by Z’ev ben Shimon Halevi, demonstrating the structure and work of an esoteric School
Tree of Life Sefiroth and Paths showing the Tarot Arcana
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Seek and find again and again the springs – the glad sources within our being, at Tifareth. I feel something at the back of my upper chest – it is like when I throw off a cold. It is time to dance again.
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It is amazing how the dance reflex is working now. My favourite is Dead Can Dance – the track “Towards the within” is pagan, wild, sensuous and worshipfully mysterious. Call up the beautiful “earth snakes”. Slow tai chi motion too.
If you are still with me, here is a link to this week’s Covid19 contemplation in my Aquariel blog, and to my recent posts with the Gene Keys:
Last night we clapped at 8 for the NHS and lit up the streets! As with Greta last year, it took one little girl to tweet the idea; it bush-fired around the country – we all got The Clap – with music from house to house and dancing: Virally yours!
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Little girl with Lighthouse, 1956
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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 alsoAquariel and Gene Keys Diary.
“The Prime Emanation … is the Revolution inside our being. It’s a process that’s going on in many of us now, making us more and more uncomfortable, and that’s a good thing. It’s a mystical cleansing of the emotional system and it’s why many people who begin working with the Gene Keys quickly lose a lot of weight and others fill out to just the right amount. We’re coming into balance, because we’re throwing out old genetic patterns. It’s about pruning back our desire nature because the solar plexus centre needs a new kind of environment. It needs a cleaner, more open environment, less cluttered with old frequencies.
“One day we’ll return to the source. It won’t happen because of anything we do but because our particular story has found its way home. All we can do is follow the Emanation of our Love. We think we’re travelling into the future, but we’re really travelling back to the beginning…”
– Richard Rudd Excerpt from the 64 Ways
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“Mend what was broken. Rekindle the Children’s Fire … We call this work ‘village building’ or ‘culture repair’.” I had an email from Mac Macartney responding to my request several weeks ago, how can I find my pre-Roman “Angols”? In his book The Children’s Fire he made it sound rather straightforward but now he says it is a matter of dowsing and resonance as there are no records. The Roman conquest destroyed our indigenous Druid infrastructure. How these tales echo through history!
In Mac’s book and journey, a map he drew of Wales shows evocative names of Celtic tribes and elders: Gangani, Silures, Demetae, Cornovii, Ordovices, Deceangle … which spread across the land. I shall look at these names reflectively from time to time.
I feel profoundly rooted English, uninclined to move from HERE. I hold the ground like an oak or elm; an Angle Sea – the Mona. I loved what Tolkien wrote about the elm groves in his Lost Tales. Tolkien was one of the Elder Ones, reproducing the mythos. I have this inbuilt interconnectivity; the neural and nitrous fibres throughout the ground which I return to. The body of Light Emanates. It is not a mere sponge.
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So in this moment in the earth I have a staff which illumines and is positive. Let it lead this direction when and where it wants. Let it shine. It is a seer. It sees through all conditions and fractures to the embracing Wholeness of the emanation. I’m reminded of my painting of the light – the heart – within the earth, and a hammer, a geologist’s hammer which gently taps the geode.
I grew up in Kent, Scottish Highlands, Yorkshire Moors, south Cornwall, Surrey north downs and Quantock Somerset – all before I reached my teens; for we moved house a half-dozen times. That is a landscape map provided! I have walked it so much and flowered, that there is not much need to “know” the names. The essence and loyalty and continuity are here. It is like looking at the Geological Wall Map of Great Britain in my father’s room – the extrusions and worms of colour told us where and on what rocks we live – north Yorkshire was pale yellow. And I became a painter for a time.
The gift awoke by the sea in Cornwall Caerhays age six, and that marks probably my descent from the Western peoples, touching ground. It encompasses my long-ago walks in mid-Wales (tent by the Severn river), Snowdonia and the Pembrokeshire coast … and recently, along the Hertfordshire Way and Chilterns north of London. The Hermit’s staff is a dowsing rod and also a blind person’s white stick! – for in this lifetime in those places I did not know consciously what I touch. But they made me an artist.
I live all my adult life in the city which the Romans developed and called “Londinium”. Here I hear through the urban density, the heart of the country and its winter birdsongs and noble river. Here staying at home for the last 50 years I find space for the soul to wander and flourish; and my present tribe.
My room is an untidy sanctuary of peace with a few trees outside, a busy railway to the north and a street to the south. This morning as usual when writing, I feel the root of light sink deep, the silken stillness. At Manor Farm in Somerset we had a giant elm down by the pond whose roots, I was told, spread right across the field under the grass and topsoil. And so I know the tree’s root-system mirrors its bole; and I feel the Spirit moving into flesh through the stellar fibres of my body’s capillaries; I am nothing other than this network of the fields and streams and woods; I am this un-tapped and immense human conscious potential which – after millenia – we awaken into, again … and again. My Druid knowledge lives today in the core wisdom of many esoteric languages which thrive. It has a singular pulse in the veins: I love. I love.
The old alchemists said simply – don’t drop the wisdom (dew) on the ground. Most persons cannot understand it, they break it up into cities and beliefs. Carry it in the vessel which perennially and quietly mends itself with the Sun. The wisdom is osmosis and photosynthesis: the Sun, the rain and the Earth. No matter how apparently concealed, the same magnetic shines in each one of us. It is in process of opening its dimension through our temporal fantasy of destruction. As the living creature awakes and yawns it cracks the scales.
How tiny is my surface understanding within the solar system and each of its planetary gems.
The silence when the wisdom river is coming and when the oak is flowing is deep. The magic we know is so immense that the essence transcends and permeates the particles which are knowledge.
There is no need to “know”. There is every way to “be” and to recognise the flavour. Taste it. The animals, the trees, insects, birds and flowers taste it, un-obstructedly whenever they pause. Wisdom dissolves manufactured outlines and provinces, and for humans this is hard. Take a step back from the unfolding history and see the process. The wisdom is invincible and the DNA awakens into this mutation now: frail dragonfly nymph on watery stem – its thorax burst open with the sun’s warmth into wings.
Illustration from Richard Rudd’s book of poems and prayers – ‘The Spring of Dreams’
To remember this is to collect together with Mother Isis the scattered limbs of Osiris and breathe on them with love. This is perennial in our condition.
Early infancy: Glensaugh, Scotland
Under this tree I planted a small crystal in 2002. The line across is not the horizon, it is where I joined two photos together.
My grandmother in the grass – Easter Ross, Scotland
Quantock dancers
Seven sisters, High Point, Quantock hills
So the Quantock hills at present are my “walking country” where my mother still lives. There is a long Somerset settlement in my life. My home was there from age 9 until 20. Later, my father moved to North Devon and discovered in the next parish his Yule ancestors, with whom he had himself buried. In Somerset and North Devon were extensive explorations, our home and our adventurous family holidays at Hartland.
These places where the heart is placed and soaks up the land are pointers towards my ancient tribal locations and relationships. The seed is blown from tree by the wind or carried by bees to fertile ground by the laws and movement of Nature. My father was an organic farm-manager, bee keeper and musician. When I grew up my first regular job as a portrait artist took me all over England and as far as Gordonstoun in Scotland. In each place I worked, there was first the need to go for an orienting walk and understand the landscape, roads and contour. My early work is scattered around the country’s living-rooms like seed – many hundreds of portraits of children. This was Providential.
This brings me to the inner meaning of our children’s fire. Although it is threatened, there are in many pockets of the land, oases where the healthy seed is cultivated. In due course the whole seed will overcome the adulterated and even take into itself what is good in the latter. Why else is there this incredible enriching mix and mulch and ferment in the human gene pool – through the overwhelming agony of frontiers, fear, bordering and displacement – why else the cross-fertilisation and upheaval of racial roots? An innovative and gentle power of the seer is being born through these generations. The environmental threat catalyses a revolutionary Symbiotic caring. The animal and plant kingdoms in Gaia no longer agree to be our mere playground or unconscious prey. The new Consciousness – already sprouting through the ground – is to unify and to nurture.
My mother’s garden in the early spring
The children’s fire? It is this transformative glow of the quickening, the seed. On the Underground in London I watched yesterday a father with his sons – he had an interesting lined child’s face, an elder Saxon with soft tired eyes, an artist perhaps with the sky; and one of his boys sat with him and stroked the back of Dad’s neck and untidy hair. Love and care.
In the seed is the fire which is Life. In the Upanishadic wood is the latent fire; in the grass the cow and in the milk the cream. In the hen, the egg is our solar system.
Parvati waters trees. This image is copyright The Sacred India Tarot deck published by Yogi Impressions in 2011
The healing way is for those of us who have access and liberty, to attend to the quantum particle on behalf of the majority. The consciousness is what there is. Each root in the ground illumines and connects with all the others. The quantum, homeopathic in dilution, is beyond prediction’s enclosures.
The needle’s point of Sufi thread pierces vertically the dense horizontal matrix: the tapestry. What do I sew?
Light the fire for our children. Be warm of heart. Make this picture daily with the thread through the tapestry. The only disease – the root of all diseases – is any form of our excess. Balance is inevitable.
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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 alsoAquariel and Gene Keys Diary.
I woke to a Promethean poem this morning. Unfortunately it faded. I am left with the sense of a large almost-round grey pebble. The message within its fall to gravity was the fire. It is the fire. It was bonded with the flow of water. But water is flowing Stone. The water which flows as Stone contains the fire which falls to Earth; each day a fall of meteorites most of them incandescing to powder in the atmosphere – Air; these primordial processes prevail regardless of small human guilt.
The Stone is in my hand and its weight flies into the infinite core fractal of interior space, and inside each of Jim Ede’s pebbles is God. This is noticed through the anguished human claptrap.
Two realities reside here: one, that we humans spoil the earth, and the other: how can we so arrogantly presume to? It is in Gaia’s destiny to clear some of her surface areas for a time and alter the climate composition. As our Solar system moves deeper into the Photon belt, each organism is aware and agitated through changes in the DNA.
This is an unusual and Holistic idea. The substance or impression of Holistic ideas transcends – is greater than their composition. Their composition – how they print out – is subject to the interpretation: the words.
The substance, the dimensional weight falling through my body however – this is true, and it is what I call transmission, reception of the Promethean fire.
Let it do its work. Through countless receiving channels it is spelled out into this or that interpretation. Generally speaking there is agreement, that when we fully embrace and accept responsibility with our suffering, there is joy. There is unexpected, boundless joy, whatever appears to go on, or apparently engulfs it. Where one spark is covered for a time, another shines out. Watch a glowing fire in the hearth; it whispers along the wood like a slow snake.
Human beings need to suffer from their rattling thought and its environmental disorders, disasters and creation of deserts, in order to begin to step free from this convention mind – to work with and as Nature, Gaia, not against.
“To begin to” is the operative word here. Fixed holding-positions get left behind. Awaken into prayer and progress with the day, again and again and again and again; recreate the Power of Creation. An infinitesimal neutrino penetrates the leaden shield into the star; from star to star … again comes around the Promethean gift of Fire, the spark within each of us planted; the phoenix bird of song and light and joy in the recovery and resurrection: “I am the Resurrection and the Light.” “I am the love of the Light.” “I am the core of Love itself.” “Let there be Light.”
Coursing the sap in stem, nectar aflame,
each power to one beloved nadi clings.
The force through spine’s sushumna sings ‘All presence’, ‘Heart’s ocean’, ‘Swan of peace’, ‘Supreme’.*
As Her light pervades my body, I am detached;
my form as Self, Self and the world are matched
[ * – In one of my Ramana Gita sonnets, these are names roughly corresponding to atma nadi (Self), para nadi (that which is beyond manifestation) and amrita nadi (nectar of immortality) in the text. The nadis are the meridian map within the Yogic body.]
phoenix bird of fire
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The alchemist blows a little on the banked fire, and it glows. The breath. The body.
In a stone-age cave, the warming flame flows along the log like lava, like water with Light which is air and the Earth’s solar core. Everything, each and every phenomenon has this potential (See the link to “beyondhumanstories” further down this post) … within the plastics and perverted materials, nothing is other than the core. Sooner or later it returns to the core, as technologies arise to biodegrade our unconscious waste, for we become conscious, first individually here and there, and then collectively as a tide through tipping-point. Alchemists are able to quicken the interior process, and to see above the tide. Wherever an alchemist is at work, the environment blossoms. Alchemists are gardeners. We potter and we ponder and we fish.
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The slow fire along the log burns out old Karma and all its fascination and even beauty. It cleanses the slate, to the horror and grief of all who saw and were aware of, for instance, the burning of the Amazon forest. A cruel human may have caused it or encouraged it to spread; but it was to be. It shocks and burns the soul. It starves further the respiration’s resources. The respiration is the whole planetary balance and swirl of currencies and weathers. Why is this happening?
I think the new human will have, and has already a bond with nature, with creature, fish, plant, tree and rock which we used to plunder and exploit and harm. The new human is so deeply, painfully connected with what she harmed that she plays into the restorative power of transmutation and the burgeoning of Life. Humankind is no longer separate from the forest and creatures of the field, no longer separate from the seas, no longer a player of golf.
The new human re-learns the ancient unifying magic; the art begins where nature ceases to act. Already this is developing as a fact. Those who despaired and yet were willing to hope, drop away from the old system. They begin to work with the Sun, creating local solar technologies. They nurture the family and patterns of relationships. Relationships are geometries and sacred forms and problems of harmony. With the ripple effect, they enter and inspire one another.
A drawing from Douglas Harding’s ‘Hierarchy of Heaven and Earth’
I wanted to say … concentric waves or ripples. Where the Stone falls and breaks surface, there is a centrifugal ripple: concentric rings. These move subtly through immediate society and communities, creating further impacts and their rings. Watch a fall of rain on the pond. I don’t publish 99% of my work because it could be misunderstood. I am not totally sure of it myself, or of peoples’ capacity to misinterpret and to twist. The Stone goes on and on falling into my fractal core and there is no time to stop and buff it up into shape to pass through the gate; for always it comes. I trust that where I work, the Companions of the Light take care of it. Their power to reach the ground and to start a wave passes through where I sit and write it down, and travels to other antennae. I write the same thing over and over and over for the telegraph wire. I’m a starling sitting on it. There is never enough of it. I write and sing so others unseen are inspired. There are notes that travel above and below the standard spectrum; the invisible octaves of the ground of being.
While I was cleaning the house upstairs yesterday, Genevieve’s conversation with Paula Aamli (https://beyondhumanstories.com/podcast-hope-beyond-hope/?fbclid=IwAR3SX5Z8FWTfCgpMmcSayAIQghOQgphJJaq4Mx8c394Ey4X80_e4Yht4Pz8 uplifted and helped me to turn to face my pain; for Paula discovered – through facing hers – that though the present human engine is destroying its future, there is an unexpected response of joy, gratitude, discovery and noticing the infinite resource of life even in a walled in city garden, and certainly within the soul’s courage. There is more to this than we know.
It is the infinitesimal fractal potency of the small! The 9thGene key is called the Power of the Infinitesimal. Beauty is the story, the dimension which cuts through every science.
Brancusi’s Prometheus on Bechstein, Kettle’s Yard
I was told long ago, in 1969: Your beautiful thoughts are not enough. The stuff of beauty is sterner. The way is to evoke and inspire that beauty in someone else. Ah, but I see today, the beautiful thoughts are, and create the Way. The beauty didn’t come into my hand like soap. It had to be worked for, leaned into and with, discovered, suffered, recreated.
The new chapter is respirational, back and forth, in and out. When the old breath is done it dulls and expires: the new breath coming in underneath it be-stirs things. So rises and falls the Tao in our world.
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When I woke this morning with the Promethean poem I lay for a while listening to the hammering builders who’ve taken off a roof, up the road. I could just hear the dark yammer of their radio. Listening to radio news and watching media is a yammering, de-sensitising skin which most of us wear. It reinforces the screen of isn’t it all dreadful and bad, and it deadens the feeling. Journalists are able to witness and report horrors with this leaden blanket. I don’t have that protective numbness. The Guardians force me in this way to stay sensitive. I don’t read the papers or watch the media. My ear is to the ground; I pick up what I need to know. The human commentary on atrocity and damage and guilt, is more than I can bear. Many of us walk with only one side of our bodies and half of our brains and heavy clouds in our heart and loins. I used to have dreams about only being able to walk with one foot, the other was tightly curled up asleep underneath.
The Tarot key that intuitively blossoms today is the 8th– Soul strength, the woman guiding the lion to sing and to speak. “Make your pattern accurate, profound, honest, courageous.”
It is another such beautiful September day, this morning, sharp and fresh. Water, stone, meteorite – recollect that vast numbers of comets and meteorites and cosmic bodies are petrified water. Water of Life.
The Stone warms up to flow as water with the fire inside.
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Click on image to view
Ben’s roof
Ben building house
Cosmographic volume, after Kepler
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
Let my face cave into your SELF.
Every picture of my thought
spills out of being wordless.
Let my fear of you go,
let lion talk. Let the lion see.
The sun doesn’t bother what goes on
when it rises and sets on earth.
The disk of the world’s hidden side
is a darkness on my light.
The wonder of that silent spreading corona
pulls away the cloth behind my eyes.
I have no support. The saying stops. Let soles of my feet be eyes to see and love, pick up the ground.
The darkness on the sun
is angel’s finger on my lips
stopping speech, making me hear.
I wonder much at my concerns.
As the reel unrolls, I clench in my seat
so forming views ; the Inward, inexpressible gift of the holy, returns as soon as I go.
No matter what happens
to me, my walls arise and fall, like
Rome on the ocean wave.
The safety in just looking
has no sense at all.
It takes the risk,
the leaping
of the absolute deer
and skittering over the threshold
pushed, each moment
opens from each point
of space a bright DAN DE LION —
Be brave ! be bold ! be
absent !
Let it go !
When chimerae collide
in the upkeep clashing, let
the Lion see
how in relationship,
several masks combine,
clashing and colliding
anxiety and peace.
Raising your heads together,
unquiet mother and fishy friend,
let your patterns pull
and drag you home.
The pull to drown within
opens the flower’s corona upturned:
a voice with
nothing to say.
from “Poems of Eclipse 1999”
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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
In esoteric work for the healing of nations, there are at least two main streams – the path of the Lineages and the path of the Hearth-fire. Through occult Lineage traditions, an octave of initiations is handed down to practitioners. This way of discipline and group work enjoys a living contact with the Inner Plane guides and their wisdom.
Dion Fortune in 1927
In the 1920s, Dion Fortune founded a Society of the Inner Light in Avalon, Glastonbury. She became its trance medium (based on her training in psychoanalysis). She also wrote novels and books on the theory of The Mystic Qabalah, and did astral-plane police work.
Among core themes in her work, was regeneration of the natural spiritual and physical energy between men and women, which had become atrophied. (“Dion Fortune and the Inner Light” – a biography by Gareth Knight)
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Mudras – builders of Avalon 2003
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Dion Fortune taught also the path of the Hearth-Fire. Reaching back to the Corn goddess and the human network in Gaia, mother Earth, the Hearth-Fire complements the path of the Lineages by bringing the divine essence into our daily life and practice – our relationships, our workplace, and the way we learn our parenting.
We may visualise – as if from an aeroplane at night – a pattern of sacred fires placed here and there on earth, where the Companions of the Light are gathered and keep watch. We may approach and join them. It is said that they are most numerous over the middle east where the need for them is acute. They are gathered there in the darkness, the way antibodies travel to a wound. We need to gain a high altitude vision, to realise that because the issues show as yet no signs of resolution, that does not mean they never will.
We need to dive within. For some of us, our job is to assist the Companions by facing our own shadow projections at home – as we journey in the soul law to the source – through Self-enquiry in psychology, philosophy, family life and feelings. Time in the lap of the gods is not as our time; it all must come up and out, becoming conscious. Healing is the whole.
Here – shortened to just the main images for meditation – is Dion Fortune’s invocation of Isis as she appeared to Wilfred and Molly at the end of “The Sea Priestess” (published by Society of the Inner Light):
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hearth fire, salamanders
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“Night by night, as the wood smoke rose from the Fire of Azrael, we built up the form of the Priest of the Moon in the drifting shadows till he was as real to us as we were to each other; and though we knew his form was such stuff as dreams are made of, there came through that form, the touch of mind on mind, and that was the thing that counted … and so we felt the touch of mind on mind where no man was, and heard the words where no one spoke, for the thing came across the gulf on the wings of fantasy; for fantasy is the ass that carries the ark, as they said in the ancient Mysteries.
“Now it is a very odd thing, that I, who could visualise the Priest of the Moon at will till he seemed to stand out like an image in a stereoscope, always felt him to be a shadow thrown by some other reality; whereas Molly who couldn’t visualise him at all, was perfectly sure of his presence and actuality, and seemed to commune with him interiorly with as much certainty as if he were on the telephone. He taught me and I learnt all manner of things from him about Atlantis and the ancient ways of Britain. But he didn’t so much teach Molly as change her.
“… There was a sea fog that night that wrapped all round the narrow neck of land where stood the farm between the salt marsh and the tide water … only the sea remained open to us as an occasional shift of the drift of the wind opened long sea-lanes in the fog down which the moon shone, for she was low and near her setting.
“It was strange to see a sea-lane open thus, with the water all silver in the moonlight and the fog standing up in walls on either hand, like the cliffs of a phantom fiord. It was such a sea path as this down which the oldest gods might travel, coming from the moon and that which is behind the moon – most ancient time and space when earth and moon were both etheric, not yet solidified into dense matter and not yet parted from one another.
“The tide was coming in. I had begun to notice that with the rising tide Molly always seemed to wake up, unlike Morgan who came to her power when the tide was at uttermost ebb. But then she was a sea-priestess, and Molly was a priestess of corn and hearth and garth, which is another aspect of the Great Goddess whom they both served after their different ways.
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“… Presently the first shallow, spreading wash of a breaking wave ran up to the edge of the weed, and Molly put a match to her Fire of Azrael and we watched it take the flame, the dry and resinous woods rapidly turning into a pyramid of fire after their year long storage out at the fort. The seaweed burned too, with an odd iodine smell that seemed to have the ancient essence of all sea-beaches embalmed in it, and I thought of the far-travelled mariners with their gold ear-rings and curled beards, who had drawn their highbrowed sea-ships up on Ishtar’s Beere.
“Then the cold drifting-draught that is in every fog opened a sea-lane that led right out to the moon, and we saw the slow heave of the sea running all black and shadowy as the tide made up-channel. But even as we watched, the sea felt the call of the moon, and the water became flickering silver as the turn of the tide broke the rhythm of the waves, and we watched the water that had come far up the land turn again to the great deep. The waves had respected Molly’s fire, and just lipped it and made it hiss before they turned again, sinking slowly back, leaving a belt of wet sand and fresh weed to mark their path.
“Molly raised her arms in the sign of the horns of the moon, and invoked the Great Goddess as I had seen Morgan do. The moon was low in the west towards her setting, and at Molly’s feet was the red-lit Fire of Azrael, and beyond it the silver pathway stretched out over the sea toward lost Atlantis. And it seemed to me that at her call came the gods of the past and their priests and worshippers, for she was waking the old worship once again.
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… The moon sank lower; the sea cut her disk and the mist of the sea banked about her in a golden nimbus. Then Something seemed to formulate in the darkness and come over the sea towards us through the mist, moving by the pathway of silver light upon the water; and it was vast, so that Its head met the stars, and It was all veiled and swathed and shrouded. Only we saw the silver Feet upon the sea, and they were like moonlight over water.
“And so She came, She of the Sea, to the place where sea meets land, and we awaited Her coming. She paused at the edge of the line of the breaking foam, Her feet and Her head among the stars, star-crowned. There was no Face to see for She is forever veiled, but there came to us the great exalted awe which some say is the gods and none other.
“This tingling fear took me by the heart and by the throat and by the eyes, gripping like a hand. And my hands began to burn and tingle with a pulsating force, and from behind my eyes it seemed to come out like a beam. And I broke out in that heavy sweat of the heat of the gods, which Morgan had told me always heralds their passing; and my breath was taken short, but not with the asthma, and I grew rigid and shook like a man in a fever fit. I looked towards Molly, and saw that she stood on tiptoe, reaching up towards her Goddess as if floating between earth and air like a frozen figure of dance, immobile, tense and effortless.
“Then slowly Great Isis turned, and drew Her veil closer about Her, and She went down the long sea-lane out towards the west, the fog closing in behind Her.
“The sea drew back with the falling tide and bared the place of Her passing, and on the sand we saw silvery pools that might have been the marks of eddies, but that we knew were Her footprints. And so She passed away as silently as She had come, but the place where She passed was holy, being filled with power. Something had touched our souls to awe, and we chose to call it the passing of the Goddess.”
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Harbour, 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.
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.
I am fascinated with ambiguities in Adam and Eve, which fall naturally into this series on Isis. As with Mother Isis, our attitudes towards Eve were bent to the standards of difficult times in history.
Isis and Osiris are a version of our primordial parents: they grew together in the womb of God. Who came first – the womb or the seed: the chicken or the egg? Were they punished, as tradition tells, or was theirs a natural Kabbalistic “descent” from the higher worlds, into the “ascending” evolutionary animal, vegetable and mineral kingdoms?
Our responses and reactions to the enigma of our original Face, are played out through our relationships and projections onto each other – generation upon generation.
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From some earlier writing: Consciousness, in its gravitational Fall into a world to see, hear, taste, smell and touch – those five senses across the Apple … needs and seeks a creature’s skin in which to dwell. Creation descending into the creature, encounters the evolutionary process ascending to meet its own potential, or genesis. As embryos in gestation, we are ourselves as little fish in the womb. We are the worlds. We look up to the stars.
Fishes, 1988
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What I see and feel is experiential, relative to my five worldly senses by deduction and belief. But my perception has not the curve of sub-atomic or galactic Reality. I live an illusion – an illusion I am able to see. The slice cut across the apple is not the whole apple. No: the whole apple is Above and Below the cross-section with five seeds only, that I see.
Everything – all matter and what matters – evolves towards the nature of its own Beginning. The apple of my eye seeks to know her Self as a whole. In the Beginning, all was made and seen to be good, like a phrase or symphony long before it is written or played: the prototype of all that is to be. The cosmic Apple is lodged in all creation from primordial suns to tiny crystal – the cosmic Serpent is our DNA: the ultimate and instantaneous vision of itself. Thus I am in ascent, through the myriad tapestry of my toil, towards the completion of my eternal Beginning. I live and travel inside the skin of innumerable creatures, very few of whom look within the …
Where is my eye in God? I AM … I am that I am – AHIH ASHER AHIH: TAT TWAM ASI. This is yet again a creature’s skin. Some five point creature or star calls itSelf ADM, generic humanity, and opens its arms to the holy Logos – who am I? That consciousness in holy Logos, ascends. It is forming a vessel, a skin or cloak – a veil – of evolution, to receive and welcome That which descends, coming to encounter it from a galactic gnosis opening very far beyond the frame of ADM.
Who, I wonder, ate the apple of That?
In the beginning of itself, there is time no longer.
From Arcanum Four, 2011
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The other day, I found on a shelf The Way to Christ by Jacob Boehme. It fell open to page 99: “… It is but One Thing still, only the property of the tincture was divided; the desire of self-love was taken out of Adam and formed into a woman according to his likeness. And thence it is that man now so eagerly desires the matrix of the woman, and the woman desires the limbus of the man – the fire-element, the original of the true soul by which is meant the tincture of fire. These two were one in Adam, and therein consisted the magical begetting.”
Boehme then expounds on sexual guilt and the borrowed bestial form: vanity in Satan’s persuasion. But the above passage is interesting. I do not think that Eve was Adam’s rib, but it suggests (earlier) that Adam’s masturbatory fantasy, or self love (as in the Egyptian and Indian cosmologies) needed a helpmate:
“And then man must be tried, whether he would stand and subsist in his own powers, before the tempter … a tuned instrument of divine joyfulness for the spirit of God to strike upon. This was tried by that tree, and this severe commandment was added, ‘Thou shalt not eat thereof, for on that day that thou eatest thereof, thou shalt surely die.’
(Adam was excited: what then is “to die”? What should I know?)
“But it being known to God that man would not stand, and that he had already imagined and lusted after good and evil, God said, ‘it is not good for man to be alone, we will make him a helpmeet for him.’ For God saw that Adam could not then generate magically, having entered with his lust into vanity. Moses has written, ‘God caused a deep sleep to fall upon him, and he slept’; seeing man would not continue in the obedience of the divine harmony in the properties, submitting himself to stand still as an instrument of the spirit of God – God suffered him to fall from the divine harmony into a harmony of his own, viz into the awakened properties of evil and good. The spirit of his soul went into these. And there in this sleep he died from the angelical world, and fell under the power of the outward Fiat, and thus bade farewell to the eternal image which was of God’s begetting. Here his angelical form and power fell into a swoon and lay on the ground.”
William Blake – satan watching the caresses of adam and eve
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I am reminded of the Lurianic breaking of vessels as the outward Fiat Lux expanded through them. As in the Siva mythology, there is a fall from Timeless – the Un-create – into time, the name and form of creation: the movement of the infinite through the finite: through death the falling fruit, to release the seed. God does not “roll dice”, but opens the widest possibility containing all the aeons: this is the Fruit. God is not a noun, nor even a verb: God IS the galactic Doppler shift in its boundless entirety: the Buddha breath of Tathagata.
In each of us at conception, a galactic core explodes and is born. But we sleep through it, and dream!
Aphrodite Ares Rose
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“By the Fiat, God made the woman out of him, out of the matrix of Venus, that property wherein Adam had the begetress in himself; and so out of one body he made two, and divided the properties of the tinctures – the watery and fiery constellations in the element; yet not wholly in substance but in the spirit: the properties of the watery and fiery soul.”
The One – the monad – cannot exist alone, it interacts through the passage of Two to be a Triad. What is a triad? – a circuit of electricity. What really is a triad? the entire progenitive history and issue from the primordial pairing, like rivers from a mountain spring – the fountain returns to itself: Hokhmah Binah Tifareth
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Here is a story. The cosmic serpent rustled along the ground in the orchard of Paradise. Eve the woman offered Adam fruit – a cleft seed. Within her moved the ageless knowledge of her sister Lilith, the ocean at night before the breath of JHVH. This passed through Eve into the man, and he rose and went to work in the field.
Face of Eve, 2011
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I saw through a glass darkly, that Eve grew from Adam’s rib (apparently) near his heart; but her knowledge was older than he is. She embodied his primordial anima. In her knowledge, she and he are one being, undivided: when she passes the knowledge to him, it separates them. There is a conjugal distancing, a mutual appraising: there are beginnings and endings: the tsim tsum rustles – the big bang.
The position of a particle-wave in the Heisenberg principle, is not its movement. It cannot capture the movement. The gap between position and movement baffles theologians and scientists. The big bang is a primary spark of Netzach, when God created a tsim tsum for God to behold God, hence male and female: a dynamic intercourse.
In Boehme’s writing the primordial Adam fell deeply asleep in Eden: he became passive-receptive for God to work upon, fashion and manifest the Left Pillar of the Tree of Life. He became feminine to God – Yin to the Yang; and thus the emergence of Eve.
Eve’s odyssey, 1989
We are – relative to galactic reality – deeply asleep. Eve opened her eyes from the sleep of Adam and beheld God creating her form. Like Enoch, the woman spoke with God, and she was not: yet she was not absorbed into God, but was returned to Adam as a desirable projection of his inner self. And he saw in her, the matrix, the earth, or source: the serpent power. And she saw in him the limbus, the fiery ignition.
Fire is spark and earth is substance becoming. The watery baptism unites them.
Traditionally, Isis is Lilith, the original bride of Adam, whom Eve supplanted. Isis/Lilith is the Great Sea, the matrix of all being before speech, fiat and birth. In Her, the discarnate man was cradled. He had no other being than Her breath and brooding breast: the Sea was dark: the deep over which the lips of Genesis moved to separate the light from the dark. Fiat Lux!
Even the lips are “two”. For something to happen, a “two” becomes “three” – the happening or Word.
Eve grew out of Adam’s rib to manifest and behold as Woman separately: the dream of Adam. Traditionally, Lilith as Eve’s shadow grew bitter, displaced and jealous. Throughout history the Lilith archetype is that region within the male soul which he demonizes and blames – and so do we as women, blame ourselves.
In the womb, there was no separation: Lilith and Adam were One, as were Osiris and Isis. The primitive primate Adam does not forgive Great Mother for turfing him out of the womb to seek a bride. He knows she is a witch …
A DREAM
A long time ago, I dreamed I was made to go and fight a horse of
hay floating on the ocean. Here is an extract:
'...With this physical memory, and not caring to look back,
I reachedhim again, near the beach. He was still in the sea.
He had been doing twodrawings on pieces of brown cardboard
now discoloured by thewater.
'"Look," he said. The first drawing was a portrait of himself. Hishead was tender and childlike, the nose slender and unformed.He was peaceful and pretty. This picture of him was held - likea babe in arms - by the second picture he drew. Something ineffably old, like a carcass or skeleton, lay on a bed, disintegrating into a thousand pieces like shattering earthen-ware. She laughed her leering head off at herself, and thedrawing of him which she held. This vessel held him and crumbled like a wall. It was horrific.
'The way he'd drawn himself moved me with a strange, completepleasure as we stood together in the sea, examining damp bitsof cardboard. I said to him, "This is how you were when you were a little boy, isn't it?"
'What children in the hollow mockery of the witch who laboursaround them, wait to be born? There is no falsehood in thedear plain face of the child.'
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Note Boehme said “a woman, according to his likeness”. This suggests more than a mere human pairing: the woman according to his likeness is within him as Lilith, Great Isis, Binah Ge, the Sea.
God does not create what is not there. God shows the form to Adam, and She arises from near his heart, becoming flesh, becoming lovely. The desire to know in substance the Great Circle of good and evil already pulsed in Adam’s heart, when God lifted the night from day.
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Hades carries off Persephone – or Lilith from Eve – into the Underworld. 1957
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In the Great Circle is an intuition that Adam’s divine genital desire evolves through Eve and countless human cycles, into the heart centre.
Boehme said Adam lost his angelical power as he fell from the tree through Yetzirah into Assiyah, Earth. The angels and archangels are cosmic conduits: they have only the four upper chakras on the flowering stem, Sun, Venus, Moon and Mercury. Their obedience to galactic Law is seamless: they have no choice. The animals on Earth have the four lower chakras on the root stem – Saturn, Mars, Jupiter and Sun.
Adam’s flute bridged all seven chakras through Sun/heart centre as an instrument: the appearance of free will – the fruit on the ground which perishes and releases seed.
… where the Angel treads: 1988
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The consciousness which dreamed in eternal Isis awoke in Adam within the earthly orchards of Eve. It was of a different order. It was no longer angelic – it must plough the ground. It was human, the ultimate healing of the primordial sacred wound which yawns among the stars. Our angelic and animal natures rise and fall through the heart: the rising and the falling are waves of the breathing Sea.
Uniting the animal and angelic natures we slowly discover and reveal as we become human, the primordial embrace of love. It falls open. It is as far from the constraint of conventional romantic fantasy, as the ocean from a puddle. Isis – Binah, Rhea, Ge.
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Fool and Lamb on a Hill, 1988
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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.
Part Three of my meditations with Isis of the ancient world.
The Squid & Lighthouse! Rather a fine name for a pub? Lighthouses, helping the ships at sea, and sweeping their beam through field, tide and rocky cliffs at night, fascinate small children. These two early drawings of Isis at the seaside in Cornwall show also the sun’s path of light :
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I am trawling Dion Fortune’s Sea Priestess and Moon Magic, developing fresh insights as they arise, and some of my own source writings.
Today I ask – how to confront the Shadow? Bathing at present in Her name – allowing all my paths to lead back to Isis – I am aware that Her worship in the ancient world branched into some dark cults. There are whispers of human sacrifice and corruption, priestly megalomania, sexual power-games and the cold, oceanic indifference of Herself to the human drama. In many ways she came to represent the shadow-feminine archetype which men fear and therefore persecute – La Belle Dame Sans Merci. Interwoven with Lilith, the shadow bride of Adam, Isis in our collective underworld is dark and thirsts for flesh.
Here is a link to the subconscious and psychological impact of the Lilith Archetype.
Travelling to the Moon’s dark side, I shall hitch a ride today, on some earlier visualisations, or path-workings. They arise spontaneously in my journal. In my experience, the way to get to grips with Shadow, is to invoke a higher frequency, or conscious vibration. This is the lamp which, penetrating the shell like a neutrino, reveals the shadow’s original face, which is light.
Yod and magic portals – bring Isis to earth – 2002
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A friend came yesterday to tell me about Paul Levy’s book “Dispelling Wetiko the curse of evil” – and I just made a typo: as evil is live spelled backwards, for “curse” I wrote “cures”. Similarly the anagram for “sacred” is “scared”…
The Squid Economy – “Kochtopus“. Is this what I am … ?
Ursa Major, 1988 … Or am I this?
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Children are abused in the satanic mill: extreme religionists indoctrinate and turn young inexperienced souls and orphans of war into bombs and toxic weapons. Our racial affliction is plain to see in the global “Squid economy” – in media degradation and the gaming culture, in the catastrophic greed of rain-forest destruction, in pollution, human rights violation and abuse of all kinds. Many of us feel overwhelmed, and wear despairing makeovers, yet in a sense – innocence? – the herd remains vitally, sweetly human in the dirty water.
There are more unselfish activists than at any other period in history. They work as antibodies in the zones of war and viral disease. More souls are embodied – young and old, traumatised and serene – during our present era than ever before. The Great War in the twentieth century mowed a huge crop, who are now reborn and damaged. In other periods of history, there was a different ratio of those incarnate to those in astral latency. It is as if the polar hourglass nowadays allows the whole of history to descend and materialise; for our world is changing. Some things which are as they always were, are no longer hidden. The realities are forced into our everyday consciousness.
In my view, metaphysical evil has no separate cause. From the root of all Being, there grew an illusory forgetting: and the forgetfulness develops a kingdom whose subjects repeat, “Be thou my good”; whose influence grips and fascinates our unconscious. However, few can speak with authority on this topic unless they survived the concentration camps.
I feel the upsurge of visible evil is temporary in our evolutionary humanquake. With Pluto in Capricorn (2008 -2024), It all comes out, it emerges onto the surface by the force – the magma – of the Light dug under it. Call a spade a spade!
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Get your welly-boots on – go for it! 1988
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Each of us is trying to cope with some degree of outrage, through the variety of our Karmic lenses. It may afflict us physically, psychologically, spiritually, environmentally and through the world-channel. Keep the lighthouse beam steady, and keep the crystal candle-power rotating through the storm-tossed night.
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priest and oak
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I knew an old Dominican priest, Father Alan Cheales. He was a lighthouse-keeper. He used to say, the hands of the clock stand at near midnight, but no amount of darkness can extinguish a candle when lit. Locally I watched over the years, a friend’s resurrection from suicidal alcoholic. The Squid didn’t get him, because the steady sweeping of the lighthouse beam through his coastline illumined the power and faith of his inner continent.
I completed some years ago, my magnum-opus, The Masters’ Eye, which invokes an open place of meeting. Using the book (at long last !!) as an oracle, it opened at page 109, “The House of God”– a transept or interior temple, intersecting vertical and horizontal beams.
Star of David, Cross of Yeshua, Crescent of Islam
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It is also the Qabalistic Cross – masculine and feminine. (I will post those pages later, in the Isis series). The focus is on interior temple building, along the ground-plan of sacred geometry. There is a visualisation – a Gothic arch or hyacinth head rises through the draft sketch or design of vesica pisces: the Tree of Life, a living Yantra lingum. It tumbles me into the font of the blessed. It rings like a bell note. It does not advise on life chimera, but it informs and transforms them vitally from within. I trust the sacrament is carried into life along my veins, as along the arms of a tree by osmosis. This was always my aim, and continues so.
“The grace and proportion of the building, altering the consciousness that enters it, is an echo only of the Light which was its inspiration. It is the ripple or projection upon the sensory field, of all time, all space, and simultaneously it is neither. Nowadays a hologram is created by projecting laser beams to cross each other at right angles. An image is created in space when the mutual interference-pattern of their rays precisely fits.”
The Master’s Eye, 2009
Enter the Body of Light. The principle is simple – I open a book, it is flat, but the designs on the pages are cut so they stand up when the book opens, and I enter Notre Dame of Isis at Chartres. I feel at once when I enter the dimension of the inner Temple, and am awakened into the height, depth and breadth. No ready solution comes for my surface dilemmas, but none are needed; they are in God’s hands.
maps of Virgo constellation, stellar and on earth
I am deep in the underground circular Cavern of Isis, the heartbeat of love. I studied some inner pathworkings with the Pharos school twelve years ago; they are found in a flash – a long rock passage from behind the altar’s veil led to this sub-terranean chamber; a green snake mosaic spirals three times around the floor’s circumference. Be seated here with other celebrants, to pray with peace, to stand against abuse, to illumine the obscurity.
Table round, companions of light, 2002
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The chamber is octagonal. The rock walls are plain but pregnant. The presence of naked Black Isis is massive and elemental in the rock. In her lap, I bathe with my astral lover in Yesod. The male-female filament is spun, whose Light ascends as gossamer to the Lamp. It is the “pith practice”. Keep invoking this dimension with the tidal fountain breath. As the physical pattern becomes more deeply in-formed: the soul’s hologram alters.
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I have Tarot Key 12 in my inner eye as well – the Well, through which my surrender to truth exquisitely occurs. The Hanging Man is believed by many, to portend a great evil. In fact it pictures a “reversal” or return – a completion in the alchemical Great Work. Essentially we are born head first into earth, and tread the skies.
Dion Fortune’s “Moon Magic” awakens my muse. The petals in my brittle life are prosaic, but from far behind them in the continental hinterland, come the prompts and procedure of the Rose – the integrative awakenings, the ripple, the pulse of Isis.
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I saw in the paper, the army in the ME is named as isil – not isis. What do these letters stand for? Here is a link which discusses the abbreviations and their semantics – ignoring of course, the human collective dimension in the western world, which is Isis. When hatred is injected into “Isis” from whatever viewpoint, we should realise that the feminine as a whole is targeted – as those medieval organisations and inquisitions set out to do – and we should watch whereof we speak. What is?
Read the word-sounds – how “Isil” and “evil” terminate Isis and Eve.
I believe that more effective nowadays than group ritual, is to illumine the seed-tendencies within myself, to cease colluding with them unconsciously.
However, in 2001 or 2002, a group of senior light-workers went into “a region where the eye of evil weeps blood” on the astral plane. They stabbed its heart to turn it round and restore Kether. Within three weeks of this overdue intervention, German scientists invented a cyberspace technique which can target any website in the world that hosts neo-Nazi symbols. This was not conclusive – it must be repeated, at whichever level we recognise our slave mentality and take responsibility for it. With the will to freedom, a way is found, whether with others or in solitude. In my view, we are never alone: we witness the death throes of the venom’s lashing tail. It is a paradoxical privilege to endure it for our generations, as millenia of collective Karmic atrocities work their way through the Shadow into the light, and are dismantled.
To dispel the dark, we find and illumine our way – we learn to detach from our own drama into compassion for the bigger picture. To turn it around: “Let obscurity fly from thee …”
dim and sainted window, alchemical stained glass in Chartres
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Some of the thoughts in this post awoke through reading Paul Levy’s recent article “The Kabbalah’s Remarkable Idea” (www.awakeninthedream.com), I recommend it for an exceptionally clear exposition on the paradox of good with the evil impulse. He is the author of “Dispelling Wetiko – Breaking the Curse of Evil” and “The Madness of George W Bush – a Reflection of our Collective Psychosis“.
According to Paul Levy, the practice of “Tikkun” in Kabbalah “transforms the impulse within ourselves in the individual recognition that the world is and always has been a pure spiritual reality. The inner and outer worlds, like a dream, are seen to be reflections of each other.” He makes the essential point that the evil impulse is a charade, with an outstanding capacity to obscure what is Real. Deep inside the broken shells – the Qelipoth – is the spark of God to redeem. The evil impulse tests and develops our sinew of Light through “grace under pressure”. There is always some issue to value and wrestle with, in our lives.
Our world as a whole, struggles in a Qelipoth shell which paradoxically empowers the great bodhisattvas. It tests the psychological muscle of Sun and Moon – our ancient and eternal Osiris and Isis. According to the 16th century Lurianic vision, the nature of evil arises from a shattering of the vessels by the tsim-tsum radiation – what we call the big bang. The big bang is not a historical event: it is timeless, through all time – it is NOW. Our broken subjectivities suffer an ontological “separateness” and a longing to return. From this derive our competitive compulsions of alienation – disordered movements of the centrifugal force through centripetal formation.
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Embracing all this, God timelessly beholds God, creating a spatial interval for time and space to be. God beholding God in every hologram of the mineral, plant, animal and human soul, inspires an “apart” which yearns for union: the asymmetry of our biosphere and of seeds of love, in the primordial wound. In the Lurianic vision, we co-create with God, beholding God by trying to heal what we are: the opening seed. This too shall pass: this too is God.
Luria lived in Poland and died at forty: his descendants, the rabbis of joy, practice tikkun – they co-create with God. They dance and pray and carry the flame.
Chabad at prayer
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The disordered expression of centrifugal force through centripetal formation, as seen in the fragmenting islands and ambitions of our world today, has at its living core the unbroken tidal breath of Hokhmah, Binah on the Tree – our Father and Mother whose Child is born to converge the living Triad of the Spirit: Tifareth. Hokhmah is Wisdom. Binah is Understanding. Tifareth is Beauty; the heart conscience brings the primordial parents together. With this ring I thee wed. With my body I bless thee. With our child the fruit is given.
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My way in the obscuration, is to scribe through Daat, whatever transfigures the feelings and thoughts of the night which arise each morning – my lighthouse beam.
In Daat, the Sefira of “unknown cognition”, an open book rests on an eagle’s wings. I can’t see or read a single word in it, for they are of Light, JHVH. Beriah the World of Creation does not explain. Beriah is the revelation. The servant writes. A monastic scribe patiently illumines a script of the lightning flash as it flickers over sea cliffs in the night: Scripto-Tetragrammaton. Awakening my interior contact with these strata, is my preparation and my prayer.
Orpheus – November 1987
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salamanders
In the centre of the Floor of Isis is a source of light – very strong light, like a magnesium flare. What are the salamanders? They are the deva spirits of the fire. Their elemental counterparts are gnomes, undines and sylphs-of-prana. Their appearance in the flicker-flame is serpentine and lizard-like. Receive the warmth and brilliance of this light. With the Companions seated in the octagonal cave – or is it hexagonal? – our individual third-eye beams are directed into the centre lamp of Isis. Our concerted focus “delivers from evil”. To see the phenomenon, is to dismantle it. Turn it around, and live! – as Dante did when he put Lucifer into reverse, and flew out through purgatorio into the white rose of paradise.
Our unconscious and disordered impulses cluster to each side of the Tree, to suck the polarity excess or imbalance. They crave the Tree’s conscious heart, of which they are deprived: the Qelipoth have no centre. They are adept persuaders with our spiritual belief systems, market forces and political tyrannies. They are subtle gourmets for the threshold of awakening – they savour the souls who are honeyed there, or who are “star pupils” and strive for leadership. Their weapon of enticement is glamour. They hunger for something which no longer concerns an evolved spirituality.
Protection from the Squid economy evolves through a lack of personal ambition, lack of desire for glamour. Then the Squid – for all its intellectual power and persuasion – can find nothing to get hold of, nothing to inhabit it. It is better to see the cobra in the room than to trip over it in fantasy. Use the plain nuts and bolts of psychology! “You must throw yourself in.” No guru can spoon it to you.
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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
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There is the story of supping with Satan. All the spoons were too long to self-feed the delicious feast, and everyone starved. At last they learned to turn the spoons to feed one another – for Lucifer taught them the lesson of life.
Lucifer – Satan – was and is the Bearer of Light. We are dark outside, but comely within.
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Unfortunately I lost the website for the photos take in Chartres, above.
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.
The second in a series of explorations – ad lib – towards the Isis archetype. I often wake up wondering – what should I say or tell you: what should I ask or risk, what is my responsibility? HONESTY – which is proper?
Actually, I don’t know. My belief is not the “right” one and I cannot be honest enough to cover all contingency. Let go, listen and keep silent. How to turn the event which Divine Providence holds? When the truth is ripe and ready to be said, speech drops into the right order – ignoring my hope and rehearsal. Let it go.
Alchemy – Heleen’s story of the tired crow and the eagle’s strength and the holy city: “How do I know what I see is true?” “Start from the premise AS IF everything you see is true, instead of your usual assumption that it is not.” With un-effort, grace, the fountain upward river flows down the mountain – crow flies, crow sees.
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My daily journal is a prelude or preamble to life as lived. When I’m out there talking to life, I cannot copy my prelude with my tongue and throat. Writing is a diving board into the heart. Talking is the swim. My everyday relationships swim, and try not to hit the rocks which the diver sees clearly from above. That is why I get anxious – the surface tension.
This is important to realise, because it is a PATTERN. The patter of my little feet is a pattern, a self maintenance.
Bunny hide and seek with the higher Self
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Communion is relationship. Writing is a communion of active and receptive poles in my inner dialogue, a warm electro-magnetic circuit: a secret inner lover. Being in the world, I face persons’ rugged rocks and unknown territory, with my unknown territory, and often shrink. When I meet Dr Livingstone “stepping out of the jungle gloom” (Moody Blues, 1970s), such moments are glorious. But mostly it is interestingly difficult to part my waves of bamboo and chattering monkeys. Progress is slow.
I grasped a lifelong patter clearly this morning – where is it? I was reflecting how important all my creative work is to me. I am sure it must be preserved and transmitted “to help others” – the landscape of my er – enlightenment.
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But – it occurs to me – what gives my light priority over your lighthouse?
The lighthouse is shorthand. Not only a man’s little lighthouse; it is each soul’s private inner world of which they are the lookout and keeper of the lamp: our allocated portion of the Infinite. Regardless of life’s puddles of hard set mud, each individual is a universe, a watery surface tension bonded and in communion with every single other in the deep. Regardless of the general gangster mentality we suffer in the street, we are the Temple. We are the human Template.
Thou art: I am.
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J.Krishnamurti at Brockwood, 1974
Such thoughts, incessantly regurgitated and delivered through my journal, are I believe, a transmission. Each time this realisation comes, it is fresh. As I learned with Krishnamurti, the inner human has no set mould. It overcomes conflict, every moment. It shatters the tower with the moving wave, the unbroken circle of the tide in and out. Each time K spoke, he sat on his hands and searched his way through the conflict, for the first time. We are not set like jelly. We are living, asymmetric transmitters of the discovery – “out of the jungle gloom”.
Why do I have these urges – to transmit? I feel like a cormorant storing fish in my throat to feed my young. It was always an urgency, since I was very small. OK, it is the artist’s creative urgency, or it is the magid in the higher, deeper world behind my spine. I am trying to break free of my walls, or soften them.
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Emily
This new pastel drawing of Emily is rather china-doll: my reaction is to think what her cher ami would say (who requires photographic likenesses), and to be judgmental; but my liberation is to view an appearance along the way, a supple way shedding skins like a river-snake. Drawings are expressions coming through, and this one slightly romanticised, makes her younger, her hair is not right, but her eyes are strong.
When I began it here at home, I danced as in the old days, the energy of creation with my leonine Liszt on the gramophone. I went to see Emily yesterday, and tried to remember to give her room. We discussed Jonathan Dimbleby’s biography of Prince Charles, and the current human lemming tendency with the deep. Stop butting in. Why do I think I am right, why do I think I must say something? Why not hear and learn, why not give her space and freedom to search and be herself?
We also discussed how unpleasant it is to have her carers put on her makeup and mess her hair, their blind fingers … I mentioned my grandmother’s tiny touches and fragrances of rouge in little jars, and how she removed more than she put on, leaving the essence. Emily is pleased about her new red frock and laughed when I called her a scarlet woman, but she hasn’t tried it on yet. She mentioned she got into trouble at the weekend, for complaining about her Sunday lunch. I said I got rather a mouthful as well.
THE PATTERN – I saw this clearly through all my life, and I stand at a threshold to be delivered from it – I stand in the doorway. What is it?
The key to the door of dreams – use it (1987)
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Stepping back, I saw my, her, their, your … limited – blinkered – view we have of each others’ commodious priority and stress. I saw how we enclose and judge and distort it – like the church did in history, and the militant extremists do now. I start to give up my notions and that is a relief. I wrote the other day in my journal about Botticelli getting influenced by Savonarola in his later work. I saw this superficially. Now I see what it must feel like – the truth – to have these tight, flowing demons surface through my art and speech, inspiring fear, commanding obedience. He is being true to his inner anxiety, and Savonarola is the cloak.
I wonder if I was Botticelli. I can be whomever I like.
sketch sandro botticelli
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Everything I say about transmission through Daat and the benefit of my enlightenment and labour to humanity, is conditioned by my personalised obsession to live, to survive, to be justified (Yesod). It is an idea I espouse, to embody my meanings, and to justify the time I spend in my temple of Isis, writing and working things out.
This is not intellectual. When I write and the continents start to join, very deep feelings of unconditional love are stirred. Love has its own law: the law of cosmic love, the soul law. It is a FEELING. I love to describe it, but the feeling is more real than any verbal poetry. Verbal poetry caresses the feeling, and slides away off it, like seawater off a whale, or pilot fish around a shark: the foam marbles the wave. The FEELING has no social code, for it is of the deep, regenerative ocean. The feeling is Aphrodite-Isis – Botticelli’s birth of Venus coming in to land – the land rushes to cover her nakedness with a flowery cloak. Good heavens!
And why not draw/copy those wonderful figures who flank Her? She came in with the tide, on a shell, on the froth of the sea – the froth of Uranus’ dismembering, releasing sperm. She is the linga of Uranus.
I am moved by this archetype whenever I tune into painting or drawing in a special way with music. I feel her nakedness like a whale, and am discharged like lightning.
It is the Kabbalistic lightning flash to earth.
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This is not where I planned to go this morning. I tapped the membrane, and this is truth. In the Greek mythology, Chronos – Saturn as Time – cut off the creative organ of his father Uranus, and it fell into the sea and all the blood turned into white foam; and tritons bore the naked form of Aphrodite and her copper tresses to the beach on an oyster shell. Male sexual arousal is transposed into the feeling in the tip which receives and is feminine. My birth chart has Venus opposite Uranus – in Seal of Solomon’s resonance.
Where I planned to go, is why these images are important to me and fill me with life’s certainty and wonder: my obsession with them. They are tremendously clear to me, but my language with them is not easy for others to engage with. Be thankful I have the liberty to exercise this language at home; and to offer it back to the gods.
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I think I wanted to say, that all my life I am convinced (whenever the archetype surfaces) that it is RIGHT: yet it doesn’t fit into social or moral code. I keep it cloaked – but is it right, relative to others’ sense of rightness? I can grope towards spilling beyond boundaries in a self-realised, ontological way – inner freedom – but navigating it with others who are also right, is the Karmic setup. We all are right. We all have this feeling.
I want to “help others” but the attention to my inner housework is stronger. The artist’s necessity is stronger. The whale moves on !
Gaia covers Aphrodite with earth and flowers. Wild, wonderful and startling is the pagan flow of the birth of Venus! How difficult it is to “copy” the genius of Botticelli’s anatomical and gestural distortions. My Isis begins to stir and to awake.
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The patter of my little feet is a pattern, a spin, a self maintenance. I pasted this sentence again from earlier, for it was about to deliver. Where was it leading me? Accusations of selfishness … relationships are vulnerable, and make others vulnerable. Is this the way in which – through private relationships within the clan – sexuality became a hidden, sacred space? The sacrament is kept, to guard against invasion and injury. Writing music with it, we sought “the Isis tone”.
This theme runs through Dion Fortune’s “Moon Magic“: priests and priestesses serving Isis, encountered the living Mystery in the cave beyond the village, where the lamp is kept. They found they wronged themselves and Isis if they did not honour and explore the feeling. It didn’t fit with anything the clan does, so they kept the secret. There were terrible penalties for relationships beyond the pale. Yet these relationships nourished the life force of the clan. They became a shrine, engendering respect and sensitivity. This is an opinion; but it is more than an opinion. It acts through visualising. An evolutionary “tantra” touched the hologramic wave-pattern of human existence. If we were bearers, we would try to handle it with respect and delicacy, so it doesn’t just splash around in itself. Nature rises as a passing need in a little lighthouse, and delivers to a woman a white letter, and passes on; and as the woman reads it, she smiles inside.
This opens another image – my open book in Daat in the Tower of alchemy; and how its pages shine without a single word.
Alchemy – the eagle book in Daat
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My writing awakes the Fountain’s pithy clarity and creed from within, and it comes all the way up the centre stem of the Tree like sap and fountains to the fertile orchards around. It is again the Uranian linga.
The wedding of parvati and siva, presided by brahma
How gentle this Kundalini is! Kundalini is the life force. This is in my belief system and my code. Look always at what is meaningful, alive and loving. Yogic methods are shed, they were useful but become irrelevant (as Parker Stafford said) when the Feeling is alive and vibrant. It needs no fireworks – it rises and falls like a barometer. The Alchemical Child has no words to say or read, but was and is written down through a complex maternal capillary of images and fire-screens.
At this point, mind stops in the summit of the mountain: wonder. “Above us there was nothing!” And I feel the white pith channel all the way down into the ground, the lotus stem and muddy roots. I am still. Butterflies surround me, but I am in the core of the world: mans’ seed in woman’s cave. Be still and know I am.
Even this is a belief: for beliefs when strongly held, feel good and secure. Advaita teachings recommend to discard each vessel up the mountain of Enquiry into consciousness. The paradox is, that as each vessel rolls away, another and more vibrant one forms from the deep … to spill and spell the Same Thing … the infinite adaptability of the One Thing.
Then the way is not to cling to any of them, but espouse the lovers’ space through which they rise: the sport of the Self. Ascend Annapurna.
Annapurna, 1950
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I think the light through the clouds I am getting is that we all act strangely with each other, and tend to make snap judgements when we observe this. We say, that is wrong or right or peculiar, because we have tunnel vision – we see a fragment or an edge through the keyhole, and interpret it in ourselves or others – so as to affirm our own ground.
Whereas, persons are usually in a long term private dilemma, something valuable to which they apply heart and soul. This is the terrain I do not know about, and peer through my tinted spectacle frames – as we all do.
The way here, is to contemplate the situation without opinion, as if it were an extraordinary portrait in a gallery – engaging with her story – and fling wide the door.
Reality isn’t a raincloud over her, but sun rays and a tree; she is running somewhere between her boyfriend and a buddha in the morning. Keep it open.
Completing this series of Robert’s sayings in Transcript §85:
“There never was a time when you were not, and there will never be a time when you disappear. There is no birth for you, there’s no prevailing of your body, there’s no disappearance. There is only eternal life . . . Ponder this.”
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“The mind cannot destroy the mind, pondering cannot destroy the mind, thinking cannot destroy the mind. The only way to destroy the mind is to inquire, ‘To whom is there a mind?’ . . . Ponder this.”
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“You are already free and liberated, and there’s really nothing you have to do. Just be your Self . . . Ponder this.”
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“To be your Self means that you’re nothing else. To be your Self means that you’re not the body, nor the mind, nor the world, nor its things. To be the Self means that you are the imperishable Self, which is all pervading.
“Water cannot drown it, fire cannot burn it. You are that Self that has always existed. Some people call the Self ‘God’, some people call the Self ‘Brahman’, some people call the Self ‘choiceless effortless pure awareness’. It makes no difference what you call the Self. Just to know you are That, will free you immediately . . . Ponder this.”
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Sedona Landscapes – click on image to view
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“There is really no one who can do anything for you. I cannot really do anything for you, because I am really in your Self. There’s no difference between my Self and your Self. There’s one Self. Therefore, when you look at me, you see your Self. What do you see? . . . Ponder this.”
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“Ponder the one who has been pondering all this time.”
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“Ask yourself, ‘Who am I? Why is it so hard to become the pure unblemished Self? For whom is it hard?’
“Ask yourself, ‘Why do I think I’m human, and have to go through experiences?’
“Ask yourself . . . Ponder this.”
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“That’s enough pondering.”
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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.
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janeadamsart 