Diary: Imagery of Heaven

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Feeling very grateful to be living in one of the most beautiful parts of the world. Reflecting on what heaven on earth would really be like: an eternal spring – a passion of wildflowers – lying on a grassy bank, feeling completely connected to the earth, being in love with the sky up above – kissed and caressed by the breath of the wind.

In another dream, I am in the centre of a lake on an exceptionally still and clear day, meditating in an old rowing boat – the sun is at the centre of your every thought, approaching dusk, without ever disappearing – a return to the land of Hyperborea, where light is inescapable and eternal.

I long for the light, as I long not to be so darkened, so demon-plagued, so wrested from my own self-control. To be blessed with an easy consciousness – to have a mind that is all forest, mountain, and wood – that is rooted in the very essence of serenity, and has slayed and subdued the teaching demon called PANIC.

To be a poet is to be a prophet, and the act of putting pen to paper can be so intense, so thrilling, and so dangerous, that it can be a horror and a wonder to behold your own words; especially when you’ve had the experience of writing things in mystic cluelessness, only to have them realized perfectly later – to predict the words you will spontaneously utter, as you scream in an empty field.

And at our most weak, terrified, and vulnerable, everybody longs for a great cosmic mother – for some warm and undying essence to inject us into its arms, when we call out “That’s enough – I can’t take it anymore – o, please, o please, just give me some rest!”

And she comes then, that mother, that Tara, that Virgin Mary, that Shekkinah, that Prajnaparamita, That Ground of all being. She comes, and she bundles you into her arms and says – “It’s all right – I’ve got you – you are safe, warm, and protected – nothing awful ever needs to happen to you again.”

Is fear the gateway to that mother? Fear can be a gateway to many things, and the presence of The Divine Mother can be experienced in a myriad different ways. Hecate and Venus are one. Kali and Lakshmi are two sides of the same loving and destructive coin – pacifying you and terrifying you in accordance with the motions of the stars.

And while I am not of the kind to shun a fear that can teach me so much, I still request that I be granted a leave of absence from The Palace of Anxiety. I do not want to be reduced to a fit of tremors and screams anymore. Grant me some warmth, some peace, some friendly bosom to lay on; for while I am a Child of the Universe, this child does not want to be a burden on anyone – he wants to be blessed with the tranquilized peace of mind to chase butterflies in the woods.

 

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Diary: The Fox On The Kymin

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An ecstatic walk up The Kymin. For the first time in a long time, I have experienced joy in being completely alone. One is never alone in the woods. Everything here conspires to occupy your senses – bird song wreathes you in melodic clusters, and you feel the complete fullness in the emptiness of existence. The air is fresh with flavour, medicinal pine sweeping into my lungs – you just want to grasp every protruding piece of bark in your hands, like Mayan hieroglyphs, that are actually secret keys to organic space stations.

“I pause for a while by a country stile” opening onto a meadow, where, in the coming summer, one’s eyes will be blinded by bluebells. I see the visions of a century’s old boy perched on that stile, and feel impelled to access my own inner child, walking along the stile as on a bucolic tightrope, limbs wrapped around the wooden vine-posts overhead. I look down on a friend’s hilled mansion and marvel at the power altitude can lend to perspective.

I feel happy standing here – all else ceases to matter; no interruptive thirst for conversation, or brooding desire to be touched, when I am already touched by the penetrative essence of the wood. Everything glistens – every rock is a jewel – and the trunks of old trees are the gnarled faces of old men; sylvan spirits that find beauty in the grotesque.

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There are wood nymphs, too, of course – a whole panoply of fair folk, dancing in ecstatic procession behind The Spring Queen of the wood, somehow still gentle, even in the maddest of their March-mad antics.

But the view on top of The Kymin beside The Round House is unrivalled – it is addictive; you look at anything else, and it only makes you want to look at it more. There is a beauty to the cluster of town houses in that expanse of free landscape; and I pick out all the places I am used to experiencing at insect-level: the row of path-lining aspens down Vauxhall Fields – the single oak that stands as an Axis Mundi in its centre – the spire of St. Mary’s – and the many Welsh mountains beyond.

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Families chatter around the railings – unappreciative parents stuck in irritable protection mode – imagination-led children – and people picnicking in a square field circumscribed by electric wire.

It is interesting to hear how birdsong develops this time of year. Robins, who whistle so thinly, sadly, in winter, become full-throated. Blackbirds, who began singing at the end of February, uninspired, and repeating the same half-meant phrases, as though cleaning the cobwebs from their syrinxes, have now really taken to their theme. You can hear the languor-suppressed passion and excitement in every phrase they sing, occasionally taking the best-loved phrases of their combatants, and then striving to make them better, like duelling saxophonists and trumpet players in a throbbing bebop band. I have occasionally heard the explosive rapture of the blackcap, but I do not think they are in full-concerto mode quite yet.

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But, until The Universe grants me more longevity in love, Nature will remain my First Woman. I shall cling to her – hide myself in the verdancy of her bejewelled clothing; loving getting to know even smallest parts of her – the flowering of wood anemone – the perfect meditation mats of mineral-encrusted boulders – the primroses, common speedwells, forget-me-nots – the effortless affability of daffodils – the duelling riverine currents of The Monnow and The Wye.

There’s something deeply therapeutic about the sun in spring and summer; the way it penetrates your skin and sinks inside your soul, chasing even the weediest of your dark thoughts away.

But now for the crème-de-la-crème: while still sat on my woodland stile, without either of us thinking of it, a fox sauntered unexpectedly by. His coat was faded from dirt and hunger – but I was so awe-inspired, honoured, majestified at having this prince of creatures stood so near to me, that I sat there, slack-jawed, unable to look away.

But, once we’d both gotten over this little spell, as though returning to the normal rules of things, he scampered over the new-grassing meadow, intermittently looking back to see what I was doing – a fox looking back at a fox. Sylvan muse indeed!

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***

There is something very shocking about spring now. I am so much impaled on the point of every moment, that each moment seems eternal. Like laying on the slope in Chippenham Park yesterday, nailed to the ground by the rays of the sun. I felt like I would always be there – and, in the intensity of mixed joy and heavy pain, I had little to prove me otherwise.

And now, sat here, blue tit and great tit beeping out to one another in crystalline Morse code, I can feel the light heaviness of that eternity again – just page and pen, page and pen – on and on into the sunset.

I’m definitely feeling healed now.

Coming up here is one of the best things I could have done.

Diary of a Mystic: Spirit Animals and Forgiveness

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Interesting meditation before bed last night. The visualizations and interior depth of my meditations are beginning to return thankfully and joyously. This bug has been stuck on my chest at the moment, so I had to direct a lot of energy towards my heart chakra to help it heal, and to also, hopefully, reawaken the compassion and warmth that was temporarily occluded by my selfish sickness.

I saw quite a lot of magical spirit animals in this meditation: a leopard – a bear – an ant – and a few others I cannot immediately recall. An ant is symbol of the power of co-operating with others. Though tiny, army ants, through working together, are a fearsome force in the jungle. When tiny things assemble together, they are capable of achieving greatness. The importance of working together with others. Even on a singular basis, ants are incredibly strong, capable of lifting things that far exceed their size. As a colony, they function through psychic integration and intuition. And they are also supremely selfless, seeing themselves as a collective whole, and not as an assemblage egos each with their own unique desires to gratify.

The bear is almost the opposite of this. A solitary cave dweller, he prefers isolation, entering into the depths of darkness to perceive the essence of The Way. He is quite territorial, but also shy. To the Native Americans, the bear was emblematic of Virgo. So, I must reconcile and harmonize these two seemingly conflicting sides of my nature – the solitary and the social. That which desires to withdraw and work alone and within – and that which desires to unite with others, and work for the greater good. Both of them are ultimately seeking to attain the same thing – just through different methods and modalities.

According to my book of symbols, the Leopard was associated with the great destroyer Seth in the Egyptian pantheon. Priests would wear leopard pelts to symbolize their ascendency over the forces of destruction. The leopard, due to its cunning, strength, and blood-lust was also a symbol of the warrior castes, but also one of transformation – its coat changes with the seasons, and the loss of its spots indicates purity – losing the spots of sin.

A website on spirit animals had this to say of the leopard:

He is reminding you that there is always a period of rebirth after a period of suffering and death on some level. Leopard is the healer of deep wounds and will bring old issues to resolution through the reclaiming of power that was lost during the time of the wounding. He is reminding you that you have many resources, skills, capabilities, inner resources and patterns available to you that will allow you to do a broad range of tasks at will. These resources can be physical, mental, psychic, emotional and spiritual.

Alternatively the Leopard is letting you know that you need to accept your own spots and use them as your own strengths. Stop hiding because of your own perceived weaknesses. You have the power and the strength to accomplish everything you dream of. You simply have to believe, have faith and find the right path. Persistence is the keyword.

 

I think this is all incredibly relevant. I have been going through many deaths recently, and I’m currently on the upswing, and in gradual recovery mode. I feel very wounded at the moment from mistakes and experiences I’ve had recently, so to be assured of a resurgence of new power and strength and resolution is pleasing to the soul. The past week really did knock a lot of my confidence and faith out of me, so it will be beautiful to be realigned with an awareness of my limitless potential, instead of constantly being bound and stymied by self-limiting insecurities and worries.

I do also need to be more accepting of my own weakness, and not over-highlight them at the exclusion of the whole, but rather integrate thoroughly with them. All weaknesses can be converted into strength if you know the secret of transmutation. I think, especially, I have been castigating myself for my extreme changeability, seeing this aspect of my protean nature in an entirely negative light, when actually, it is an important part of my character, and abundant in virtue. Changeability is neither good nor bad in and of itself, for such transformations are an essential part of how the universe evolves. It is just about how you direct it (or how it directs you).

I had a beautiful moment of consolation earlier too. I prayed for forgiveness from a lover for all the pain that I’ve put her through. A voice reminded me that she’s already forgiven me. All these lifetimes, and unpleasant blips are insignificant in the grand scheme of things. Mercy and forgiveness are the basic modalities of the universe. She has never truly hated me, and will always love me. What forgiveness need there be?

Astral Travel: Transformation and The Divine Feminine

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Waking up still feeling feverish, I decided I would spend several hours chanting Medicine Buddha’s mantra to stimulate my healing powers within. At the beginning of the meditation I just decided to passively chant the mantra, allowing visions to naturally arise as they pleased. Many of them were of Shiva and Shakti; of wandering across vast desert planes on foreign planets. Sitting in a mountain cave, covered by a waterfall, looking across an infinitely vast chasm, filled with clouds, space, and moisture. Once again, there was imagery relating to the Native Americans.

I focused on my Shakti, on my Divine Feminine, and tuned into the female body that exists within my male body, becoming aware of my breasts, my womb, my vagina, and the different sensation in terms of energetic vibrations. I focused Shiva-lingam energy onto the pearl of my clitoris, and felt waves of high-vibrating pleasure ascending up through my body. It’s no wonder women enjoy sex more than men – the pleasure is much more intense, yet also much more grounded and consistent. It does not peak quickly then wane, as with men, but endures evenly, capable of being prolonged inexhaustibly for those who know the techniques.

Being earthly, women are naturally more grounded than men. Their tranquillity and serenity is far deeper than could ever be fathomed. This is why men have subjugated women for so long – because they are afraid and jealous of their closer connection to the earth, and the inexhaustible supply of magic and energy that gives them access to – pure Shakti energy. Thus, women have been demeaned and separated from the Earth as much as possible. This is also why the current powers that be strive to artificialize women as much as possible, exploiting their insecurities, and brainwashing them into being obsessed with appearances, make-up, security, and a whole of host of frivolous poisons that detract and separate them from the all-powerful divine mother whom they embody. To all women who read this, may you be liberated from the shackles of such attachments, and return joyously to nature, as the divine sorceresses you are.

Once we get to the astral projection portion of my meditation, the use of words becomes far more unsatisfactory. For those who’ve never performed astral projection before, it creates a divided, yet unified sense of experience. Though you’re still conscious of your body sat immobile as you meditate, you will also feel the cosmic sensations of your etheric body as you project it through different dimensions. There is a mind-split involved here, which may feel uncomfortable at first. But, the more you become accustomed to maintaining trance, and the practice of using separate senses simultaneously – in this instance, internal chanting and visualization – then the more that split feels natural and unified. You even become aware, during your waking life, that such splits are occurring all the time, and that your various thought bodies are often off wandering in other places and dimensions, whilst your physical body is engrossed in its own activities.

The longer you maintain awareness and control over your etheric body, the more solid and crystallized your etheric body feels. As with anything, the experience becomes much more stable and expansive the more you practice it. In fact, making your etheric body dwell in a single spot, as though meditating, and imagining it crystallizing, as though into a golden statue, is one of the best ways of further reifying it.

I visited an amazing crystal castle in space, which had a very robust healing energy to it, especially if one stood in the central room, below the elevated spire. The crystal was all a sort of light-bluey quartz color. It made me think about King Ludwig II of Bavaria, and made me wonder whether it was memory of such places that impelled him to build his incredible, fairy-tale castles.

One of the most liberating and exciting thing about the etheric body, is that it can take on any form you direct it to. The initial form I usually take on is that of a Buddha, bodhisattva, or god with whom I have a strong relationship. The Buddha body is usually an ideal one, because it is very easy to drive, and one can use the energetic powers of his top-knot and third eye to illuminate all sorts of fascinating realms and worlds. But, all forms are capable of taking on any kind of amazing transformations at the drop of a thought.

One of the interesting experiences for me this time round is that, not only can we take on the forms of animals and beings, but also of vehicles, planets, buildings, boats, and houses – or just be formless and empty, like the vapours of space. It is very fun to experiment with these different bodies, the alchemical actions that occur as a result, as well as the knowledge one acquires through experimenting with different incarnations.

Most exciting of all is realizing that you can transform the etheric body to be many things at once, manifesting yourself as a whole plethora of beings and things. I even experienced creating a hole world, and manifesting individually – yet multifariously – as every being and thing on it. I imagined separating myself into an infinite multitude of bodhisattvas, who I could spread in all directions, to all possible worlds, to liberate as many living being as possible.

Of course, at this level, I realized that all beings are essentially ephemeral creations thought momentarily into existence by the universal mind, and that, as The Diamond Sutra says, there are really no beings to save. Though, of course, until all beings realize that, I still have a lot of work to do!

Learning to be formless and all-embracing is definitely a skill I would recommend all beings to master

Something to Think About

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Did you know that, prior to the invention of agriculture and civilization, people actually lived longer, healthier, disease-free lives, with far more free-time than we experience today?
The idea that our tribal ancestors were violent, stupid, squalid people, is nothing less than racist propaganda.
Violence and disease are not naturally – they are responses to people living unnaturally.