Monthly Archives: November 2017

Adoration of the One? III…

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“As an aid to poesis the Chain of Being works in numerous ways.”

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“It lends life to the notion of an interconnected cosmos without superfluity and raises the dignity of creation by recognising its symbiotic heights and depths.”

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“It fortifies the mystical mind by presenting the ultimate unity as an infinite diversity.”

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“And it offers man a way to ascend beyond his own nature.”

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“Small wonder, then, that it should be regarded as an essential component of the Elizabethan world view.”

 

Holy Ground

Not Tomatoes

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I’m not going to tell you that the moon

keeps the secrets of the tides

because you hold the ocean in your body

When you are still

feel the waves rushing you softly to the edges

bringing you back to center

You were not born broken and forgotten

you, who were birthed with the strength of cohesion

and the force of a division that remembers unity

One thousand lives might bring you back to the place of origin

or you can go there now

riding the breath like a wave to seed the sacred

within

your body becoming the holy ground

fertile to the quickening pulse

ripe with life

it rocks with the memory

of home

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Adoration of the One? II…

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“Another curiosity, found in the Chain of Being, held that each class possessed a ‘primate’.”

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“The eagle among birds, the lion among beasts, the king or emperor among men.”

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“Other primacies were the sun among the stars, the stars in the firmament, and the head among the body’s members.”

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“Opinion often wavered. Was the whale or dolphin, both mammals, primary among the fishes?”

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Reining in the kids…

Shamanic Paths

Dearest Children of Horus,

I’m laying the line down here, as it’s difficult to know where else to put it; and, frankly, to leave the current situation to find its natural end is no longer tenable.

You mess with dark forces, you play with the big boys. You mess with dark forces, you can’t just “change your mind” and walk away unscathed. Once you are in, you are in. There is no easy way of removing yourself from that “relationship”. There is a price to pay. A very great price, indeed.

Here is the thing.

When you walk through the worlds, you meet all sorts. When you walk through the worlds, you remain immune to their wiles. When you walk through the worlds, you know their desires, their needs, their fears…

You play with these boys at your own risk. You play with these boys, you risk all. There is…

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Adoration of the One?…

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“It is a curious attribute of the Chain of Being, that it allowed every class to excel, ‘after its own heart’.”

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“Stones may be considered ‘lowly’ but they ‘trump’ the class above them, plants, in both strength and durability.”

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“Plants, in their turn, though regarded as without ‘sense’, excel all other classes in their ability to harness and store, for nourishment, the energy of the sun.

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“The ‘brute beasts’ possess greater physical strength than man and a ‘purer desire of the heart’, and man himself, being imperfect in the realms of knowledge, excels even the angels in his aptitude for learning.”

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Only the angels, by virtue of their own special gift, the faculty of devotion, can never claim to go beyond the ‘class of being’ that stands above them.

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Clueless…

The Silent Eye

The past few days have seen us up to our eyeballs in research, planning and speculation. With the December Living Land workshop less than two weeks away, this was our last chance to get out in the field and check the details… so out into the fields and hills we went.

We were lucky with the weather, in spite of the frost that whitened the world. The chill of mid-November was mitigated by clear skies and a hint of sun on the coppery carpets of beech leaves. The emerald leaves of bluebells, reminding us that spring is just on the other side of winter, cluster thickly around stone and tree.  Wherever we went, a robin seemed to be watching and busy squirrels worked frantically at secreting their winter hoard. And, wherever we ventured, odd and intriguing clues seemed to laugh at our blindness.

Places we have visited many times before…

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Circle of Heaven…

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To find a Black-Bird’s Stone

Laid-by the Snake of Steel City,

Before the Lowly-Ladies House,

Beyond a Blood-Baked Bridge.

O’er stile and up, a rise

Which leads out-the-wood

High, upon a ridge…

At the last tree,

On the Rim of Time

It is the first point

You see.

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 Anubis Commands

strangegoingsonintheshed

halloween-1781652_1920.jpg Image: TobiasBisander, Pixabay

On Saturday 18 November 2017 I was ordained as a Minister with the Sacred Rites Foundation. Sounds strange saying it but it’s been a long time coming. I have neither changed my spiritual preferences nor path in case you were wondering. It will involve inter-faith work, which is the way it should be. The decision to go down this route has given me a good “kick up the bum” as I’ve been in procrastination mode for quite a while. His Nibs had a hand in this issue, one way of telling me to get on with it! He can be a hard taskmaster when the occasion calls for it, a bit of a softy really when you get to know him. Don’t tell anyone else will you? There’s a lot to think about and many projects to complete. I’m at a crossroads again but know what road…

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The James Stone

Walking with a Smacked Pentax

This is the James Stone, first discovered by my good friend James Turner and myself last summer.

The stone is on a very remote part of a very remote and little visited Blubberhouses moor. I have walked these moors for donkeys years and in all that time I have only seen one other person. Almost no one goes up here. There is a track – a Roman road in fact, but that is a mile or so away. And it is going away from the stone.

The stone could be a boundary marker, put down a few centuries ago – but I doubt it. There are a couple of boundary stones on these moors but they are much, much smaller. There are no paths nearby and to carry this enormous stone (it is 5 ft. tall) would take a huge amount of effort. The ground all around is very…

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Derbyshire’s Green Man…

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Beyond the forest’s leafy shade,

The hooded one, with giant’s pace

From pinnacle to pinnacle

Leap’t silently, in moonlit grace… 

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In eremitic solitude

In caverns deep to meditate…

Within, the riddle of the night,

A key that will elucidate…

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Beyond the stones, to four once nine

To where the goddess meets her mate

And heavens dance at winters turn

Bends earthwards to illuminate.

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