Antiviral Tools and Hymn to Joy


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   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.

In   Hope Bradford writes (extract):

“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.”


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.”  


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.”


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 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.


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.”


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!


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 tools of 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



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.”


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:

Conscious Breathing Meditation 

Integration Meditation

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.


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.

Genevieve Boast,


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!”

I replied –

“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!


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.



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


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”
And now, to share with you this morning’s breakthrough (27 March):   
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!

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).



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.


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.


Archangel Mikael – in renaissance art, the expanding oval in the vesica pisces housed angelic figures and the Madonna.


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.


Conference of creatures, 1987


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:   Surely, she healed many others, in turning this one around in herself; for at the cellular level we are all one.



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.


Ramesh and devotee, 1999


The Kabbalahsociety circulated earlier this week, a new coronavirus Tree of Life to show the general principles.

Tree of Life – Coronavirus – by   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


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.


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!


Little girl with Lighthouse, 1956





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 and Gene Keys Diary.

All art and creative writing in this blog is copyright © Janeadamsart 2012-2020. May not be used for commercial purposes. May be used and shared for non-commercial means with credit to Jane Adams and a link to the web address


Tales from The Watershed: The Lens




vesica by dino valenti

vesica by dino valenti


IN THE 1970s, I joined a team of portrait painters.  We were commissioned to draw and paint children at boarding-schools for their parents;  at first we were called Portrait Artists Ltd;  later our manager William Deeves formed a registered charity – The National Portraiture Foundation.  Our work brought us a basic livelihood;  later, the Assocation’s additional aim, as well as introducing portraiture to households at a bargain rate, was to sponsor and train gifted young people.  

Working with a fraternity of senior artists, I enjoyed the intensive and (for me) exhilerating weekends of my artistic apprenticeship.  I learned to work fast and accurately,  drawing five and occasionally up to ten portraits in a single day.  In the evenings we hit the town, exhausted, and caroused.   We travelled and worked together, and formed  close friendships.  It was like a Renaissance bottegha.    

Sometimes I stop to reflect on my many hundreds of portraits in unknown living rooms up and down the country.  They were all done with a passion which glows.  Those children are by now grown up, with children of their own.  Occasionally we converge again, for me to sketch new additions to the family.   It was a remarkable period of human richesse, adventure and companionship.

(Gallery 1 – to view, click on any image, and wait to upload)


At the same time I had a deep and prolonged relationship-stress at home.  Like the gems within a geode, its safety valve was my dreams at night.   I wrote them down, and they became the foundation for my spiritual journey to come – my Tales from the Watershed. (For others in this series, see under Categories.)

“The Lens” when I dreamed it in 1975, underwrote a tough growing curve.  My then partner was trying to turn me against my family and my grandparents.  

This tale of vision, an alchemical catalyst, breaks through the crust each time I rediscover it.   At times, life has to be hard and painful, and to crack, to let in the light.   





Dreams No.203 – 6 November 1975:  “The Lens”

THERE’S A touch or fragrance of landscape – like winter in Wales.   It reminds me of Jim Ede.   I see his books in shelves of white weathered wood;  the backs of these books are a faded spectrum of grey, blue and dusky green like the sea.   The books are in my early memories of my grandparents.   Some of them are about mountains and the men who climb snowy Annapurna, and some have “Details” and “More Details” in them of Renaissance angels in the National Gallery.

These were my masters.   As a child I sat in a high chair at a round table with a big book open to a Botticelli madonna, angel, Primavera or cluster of hands, and copied them.   They taught me to draw.  They showed me how beautiful a line or curve can be, and its mythology.   There is no half measure of grace.   I drew what I saw, breathed the fragrance of those old pages.   The beauty is pain to hold until it can find again a pencil.

There is toast and honey for tea:  a droll solemnity in Jim’s blue eyes.  My grandmother’s voice is crisp as a bee in the Scottish hills, as she turns the old pages with me.  “Don’t fuzz the line, let it grow bold and clean.”


(Gallery 2 – includes drawings circa 1956/7)


How strange then !  on this journey with the other portrait artists on a job, somewhere near Malvern or the Welsh border, to find these very books on shelves in the house of shy George.  George is the new artist who joined our itinerant group.   He is “non-descriptive”.

I cannot describe the strange pleasure of discovery the mute volumes give me, or the delicate hues of their closed cloth covers,  but it brings me home to a vivid light in my grandfather’s eyes,  and the sharp smell of beeswax.   It is the in-dwelling essence also of this remote and hilly part of the country.   Many hills up here are untrodden, many small valleys unseen;  it rains, and cloud veils a sudden opening to the sun.   The woods, the villages and ways of life here, a closed and forgotten book, lie open to the sky.   A celestial radiance plays havoc within this house …   why has George inherited it?

madonna botticelli


George, the shy one, invited us to stay with him rather than go to a hotel, for his house was near the school where we worked.   He speaks very little, wears drab dark garments, and never allows anyone to see his work.   The rest of us like to amuse, learn from, or draw moral support from each other.   We are qualified in the art of likeness, and do the same drawing over and over, more or less.    Sometimes I am arrested, by an angel glimpsed in the face of a child at school, and a touch of magic begins …  but George is a kind of non-person.  He whispers.  He leaves almost no traces of his passage on his surroundings.

The interior of his house is a kind of splendour.

He draws with his eraser.   He builds a delicate web with his pencil, then transforms it with the eraser to a textural smudge of suggestion.   He doesn’t like any of us to see what he is doing.   Under his cloak, behind his thick lensed spectacles, he hides a delicate draughtsman’s act of discovery and uncertainty.   The creature covers its tracks.    Yet he doesn’t mind us seeing his house – he suddenly decided to trust us.   So we ran all over it like children, in delight, curiousity and personal pique –  for we have not been kind to him behind his back, we laugh at his non-drawings.

We explored the bric a brac in timbered and palatial rooms,  the nameless antiques of personal history,  the vases of flowers on scrubbed white shelves of veined driftwood,  the drawings and canvasses on the walls,  some of these his own work.    The geometric flora of vesica pisces in medieval architecture is a recurring theme, and so is the zodiacal calender, containing detailed studies of local wild animals.  Circle enters circle, making love:  the oval lenses widen, giving birth to fishes and hexagonal stars.  Long wide corridors lead out into the gardens to view the woodland paths and thistle tufted meadows of George’s violet country.

How dim and dark his house looks, until you step inside.   In many of the rooms I found upon shelves, Jim Ede’s old books still standing.   Their silvering script seems to protrude through walls and out of doors, like the sky or sea within.  The wood came in with the sea.

So George also knows.



And I wandered from George’s house into the extensive and rather untidy gardens.   A path through the cider orchard brought me to a heterogenous group of outbuildings, maybe the old stables, or a wattled barn with an apple-press inside, where tiny insects flit and drink.

But no, they resemble a castle.   As I came nearer, I noticed an ornate and graceful architecture.  Grass and weeds flourished untended;  a mixed growth of hazel and oak around it formed a natural glade.   I entered a serial maze.   One building opened or led loosely into the quadrangle of another through a graded sequence of archways growing at the same time greater and lesser.   The sequence was not a linear one.   Into an encircling depth of centre I travelled through dark stone walls, through alternating shells of greenery and masonry with a few old trees and some sheds for the chickens, garden tools and lumber.   It is like a rose.  It is all rather overgrown;  and suddenly every arch meets and opens into a single flower; and I am brought to a halt by a vault that surrounds me;   and through the high apex of the vault comes the light of the sky all around.

The vault enspheres the anthem of this space.

vesica 1


I’m brought to the standstill of my breath by a wordless music.  A Gothic stone spiral around interwoven curves and planes of the arch, opens into, from and out of itself, a web of variations on one theme – where all ways meet.   Here is silence.   It leads the eye of my mind into contemplation, an angelic stair,  it leads me entranced to a kind of window,  crystal lens or sightless “eye” above me.

Yes.   The trance is entry, entrance.   I am drawn into the “ar’got” or secret tongue.   My vision drawn up into the web, the polyphony of stone and timber, evolved as one of those dark caves of limestone rock whose glory drop by drop the rain carved out through the aeons.   As stalagmite to stalactite, is my soul’s growth from the ground towards the point of meeting, of reflection in that imperceptible deposit of cosmic mineral.    Let us draw together through time, this space of meeting.

The moment of the whole is my small candle flame.  It lifts away from the wick to unite with itself in the upper waters on the rock – an inverted flame approaches.   The interpenetrating planes of the sphere – petals of  vesica pisces – dissolve as a droplet.   Not by earthly measure a large chamber, this vault; one candle would suffice to illumine it;  a single drop contains itself a sea.



In caverns of limestone the work is through ages of darkness.   The candle must be brought to it, to reveal what is being formed.   The organs of our inner body, like that which gleams in the cave, work in the dark.  Beyond sight, they glow.  In the hollowing of the Gothic sphere or chamber, I am the hour-glass of the ages.   I see inverted or reflected pinnacles in the web – in an instant, yes, the instant of awakened vision, the fire of light.   It infinitely illumines.   The trance is my entry.  It subtly, inexorably captures my mind into Sight, into the loss of my known cities, into the persuasion of that lens in the roof.   I enter the focal point through a series of shells, of planes of vision superimposed.   I am bound into a spell, into the curve of an arc meeting infinite solvency around and into that dance,  the line of a drawing under the Master’s Eye.

In this organ I have no known learning, no “argot” or translation.   How am I to see?   Shall I look inward?   Only, it is said, to the extent that you are able to see from within your own dark,  may you begin to perceive What is looking in !

Who is being encountered and instructed in this place of meeting?  to grow from the ground as vision itself within the eye?  CREDO in unum deum, like flower to sun, through the resistor of the earthly membrane.   Lord, thou art God.  I am that I am:  TAT TWAM ASI.  Around it flow details and yet more details in the ballet of stone, of rocky argive,  or webbed timber.   I know nothing but a sudden flood of response to my calling, the music of aeons in an overpowering instant;   I am the draughtsman’s line.


I am sensing also some springtime petals of cloudy blue.   Harebells, those modest dancing goddesses.   They are waving in the breeze, and it is sad.  “Bye bye my April, I am five and we are moving house.  I am five years old, and I have to go to school to learn to read and write.”

We moved away from Bransdale on the Yorkshire moors to go to school in Cornwall.  It was April 1954.  The harebells had just come through the long winter snow.

Bye bye Finella

Bye bye Finella


There is also in this magnetized place, a fear of what is capturing me;  of the loss of my innocence or my state of unknowing,  of bondage into a vibration or ray of light that might burn out all my centres.  I might submit to a dark or merely occult power which alienates.   But on that trembling verge, I have beauty, the Eye,  the incandescent power of seeing.

I could hear the voices of the other portrait painters nearbye,  they too were exploring the outbuildings, talking history, shop and pigments.  They teased their way along a string of covered cloisters.   Whether in the desire to share, or to boast of my discovery – for I am lonely with it –  I called out to them from the chamber,  “Come and see this,  come and look up through here!”

But they passed through some time ago with a glance, and went on.   They are not arrested by the sight of that strange Lens, and its actual relationship to life.   They cannot see it, even though they are artists.

Three Graces


I can see, even though I am not really an Artist but –  an Astronomer.   The temple arresting my gaze, is an optical organ or instrument.   I am the evolving or revolving science of optics, a vision or lens, which is being developed for observing the universe.   I am designed to bring the stars closer, through instruments.

The temple is an observatory.   It was the pineal power of sight, both inner and outer, bestowed in times gone by, upon the human beings of today.   It tutors our perception.   The choices we make with our gift of sight follow the lines of personal evolution.


Ring on table Emblem 9

Later on as I came away from this place, different frames of time superceded the vault to heaven.  My fascination with the lens turned malign.   The voltage in my cells was too strong.   As I had grown no experience in handling or mastering the gift, its flow of ions – condensed from aeons –  became a resistence factor against “me”.   It began, like matter over-energised, to work against the tide of my feeling,  in things I did or that happened to me.

No longer could I flow with  life.   My way across the grain distorted it.  It grew heavy in what I did and what received.   I stuck in the grain of a round wooden table, towards the edge, the river of life.  There were incarnations, apprenticeships and jealousies.  It crossed me – bad temper, frustration,  rebellion against the grain.   I was barricaded from vision, and defenseless against the barrage of all encompassing petty grievance – my immaturity, my envy of others.

I began to fear very much the Lens, and my temerity in looking through it.   I fear the betrayals to which I now am vulnerable as I make my way back to life through the trees, to the “Round Table” of my colleagues.   I am superstitious in the wood.


(Gallery 3)



The next thing I see is myself no longer at centre,  but on the rim of a circle or mandala.   We’ve left George’s house and the unassuming glories of his inner world, and are back at work drawing and painting schoolchildren.   We have been placed around a large table to work;  it is of light oak;  the flowing grain has trapped pale flecks like feathers or flocks of birds.   There isn’t much elbow room.  We are in each other’s way, looking at the other’s way of doing the same or the done thing, like a ferris wheel of mirrors.

My problem in this wood is the grain not of truth but of the copier.    Who is faking?   Who is the forger – the forager ! –  of works of art?

Peter has come.   Peter my father who is a farmer, brings his own grain of truth to the table, to join our circle.  He is getting out paper, charcoal,  making space for himself.   I always knew he has the eye.

Oh, but what is this?   He’s been commissioned to do two paintings here, in oil!   But he  jumped the grade – the new apprentices should begin with drawing.  Colour is the art of the master.   He’s not a painter, he’s never done a painting in his life!    My own two sitters never turned up, I lost time and money, dark jealousies within me oppress and sting my eyes with tears.   I’m in a long flag-stoned passage near the kitchens.  I can’t get through to them or their families on the antiquated country telephone with its knotty brown cord.   My anger and hatred detonate everywhere into everything that obscures, obstructs and harasses me.   Next I dialled Bill Deeves, our entrepreneurial manager, but got cut off.

I have no sitters, no work to do or be paid for,  and everyone else is productive and busy,  I’ve been let down,  the two absent sitters are two blanks of sight before me.   “If you don’t use a Talent, you lose it!” – they were given to him while I was away –  I was far away, in the strange Lens.   I might as well be blind.   Life gathers atoms of misfortune into tides of flickering pigment, should I look?    Or should I not?

Within the frame.  Within the wood. Within the body.

“Let thine eye be single, and thy body filled with light.”


I had to walk here –  along the toils, the coils and branches that meander into the dark,  along the path of honesty.   This path, the work of the seer, is an essential thread or filament to unravel in my being.   It leads from light in the mirror, back to light that is its source, in the Self, the sacred Eye.

And i was late.

And i had lost all my gear.


(Peter remarked in 1992, after he read the first draft of this story:  “What a masterly drawing you do of George and of his house.   Was there really this astounding Folly, this temple?   Your moment of seeing there, of Eternity, was like T.S.Eliot’s beside the sunken pool in the hidden garden –  ‘quick, quick, said the bird’.  

“Strange how at quite early ages we know we have the “sacred eye”, the gift that is both burden and light, and yet through time and time we cannot or will not use it, or forget it is there,  until another nudge reminds us of our work.   Never mind about being late when here is all, and once here you do not need your gear,  so it is better lost.

“What is ‘pineal’ sight?   Pineal is to resemble a pine cone,  or is the stalked Pineal endochrine gland in the brain.   Is it a folded upon itself leaf by leaf cone of inward and outward sight that unfolding radiates outwards,  seeing all?   And argo is jargon or slang of a trade or calling – in argot’s case,  usually of thieves?”)







My adventure invites fellow travellers.  I am a poet, an artist and a seer.  I welcome conversation among the PHILO SOFIA, the lovers of wisdom.

This blog is  a vehicle to promote also my published work – The Sacred India Tarot (with Rohit Arya, Yogi Impressions Books) and The Dreamer in the Dream – a collection of short stories (0 Books). Watch this space.

All art and creative writing in this blog is copyright © Janeadamsart 2012. May not be used for commercial purposes. May be used and shared for non-commercial means with credit to Jane Adams and a link to the web address

Para-Olympic … Beyond Olympus

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This photo, on yesterday’s London Metro, says it all.  And so – surprisingly – does a TV commercial for strongbow pear cider! – an archer pulling back the string, lets go.

“Para” is a latin root, meaning placing beside, which also suggests beyond or outside the norm.  Many of our words – parable, parabola, paralysis, paradox, paradise – carry this meaning.

A Poem:  Coda

This my poem 
a seeding dandelion clock 
is a globe upon a stalk 

and every where 
I blow, the once 
upon a time it tells. 
                                       Poems of Eclipse, 2000

Mandala sphere of every whereness – the point of being.  Consciousness, inward as outward, dives into the heart infinitely, all ways.

A wikipedia image

Here is Margaret Maughan who lit Tom Heatherwick’s Torch of Time on Wednesday:  as the mandala rises from flower to stem;  from petals to stamens. 

The golden thread of the dandelion clock runs through all our waters and strings all our beads.

A few impressions of the festival –  a woman sings Handel in pure voice.   The new Olympian whose legs were blown off in the July 05 bombings tells:  the fate was her destiny.  She would not, could not be without it.  Clare Balding replies: fate is what you are born with, destiny is what you do with it.  An unlegged abseiler brings the torch down into the stadium on spider’s thread;  and Stoke Mandeville veteran Margaret Maughan lights the Para-Olympic Flame.   A Grail Cup emerges through inverted umbrella curves of light.  From above, I see the stadium – a concentric flower – it is a trembling drop in the pool.  In the beginning, with homage to the big bang and bosen higgs’ particle of Life, Stephen Hawking invites us to be curious;  towards the end, Alison Lapper’s huge pregnant figure bears the fruit.   Shakespeare’s Tempest is an enquiring child.    The disabled are flying in the interior cosmos, to roam and freely rove.   The simple images are very powerful.  There are as many human cells in the brain, as stars in our galaxy.  Each individual sitting on the tube is a galaxy.  Neuron threads inside my head encircle our world four times.


Yesterday – I wasn’t feeling well, and needed to open my eyes – I walked from Amersham to Great Missenden, and met this gentleman:

… he might be looking down into the Olympic stadium:  how soft his long neck is.   And there is an eye, a vesica pisces, a forming, becoming a sphere …

Further along the lane … Inside the saxon/norman church of St John the Baptist in Little Missenden village, this early medieval fresco has been uncovered:

… and isn’t that an olympic torch he bears in his right hand?

This morning I read:  “The Self is the good shepherd of the parables, and none of the sheep, the human personal expressions, is lost forever.”

Isn’t St Christopher, though carrying none other than the Child, the good shepherd?  That is “the me” on his shoulder, and my full potential is the Christ.   (a good way to handle/heal my sore stiff neck – on my left shoulder, just like St Christopher’s, and softly without hurry, like the swan:  walk glide tall.)  Christopher bore his burden across a flowing torrent, rocks and water, human strife, disability, to the sands.

In Greek mythology, the hero Jason did too.  His burden was an angry old woman, she clung around his neck and scolded him;  and he set down at the far shore, none other than Hera, the Goddess of the Hearth.  Patience.

Para means “beyond” or “to one side of” – as in parabola (para beside, bola to throw) … parable, compare … paralysis (para beside or derange, lys loosen) … paradox (contrary to received opinion) … paradise (the disus or greek paradeisus is a park or pleasure ground. Reflect also on other words – paraglide, paraclete, parallel …

I and you and every one of us has some disability or pain of life.  A Para-Olympian through her or his damaged and disabled frame, pain and courage, achieves something which is beyond Olympus.  Thus their extraordinary inspiration to us all.  Thank you.  Thank you.

Hemisphere perfection:  A photo from Friends of Charles Darwin




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 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) – along with many other creations in house.  

I write, illustrate, design and print my books.   Watch this space.