The Light and the Dark.

What do you do when the weather is fair yet overcast?

What can you do when raging rivers threaten to disturb the natural equilibrium of your lives?

What do you do when disaster seems to lurk around every corner?

And what do you do when at every turn obstacles, to the fruition of your dreams, manifest?

What do you do when all that matters is suddenly swept away?

What do you do when life’s little jokes threaten to upset all your well-planned dreams?

What do you do?

If all of life were under your control…would you handle it differently?

Would you plan it all so very carefully that there was no room for adventure or surprise?

Would you look at your diaries everyday and think ‘where can I fit you in’?

Would you turn every opportunity into a business proposition?

Or would you instead decide that life was too precious to be organised and so turn aside from the meticulous planning of your lives?

The time has come to decide whether being in the world means being in control of it,  or allowing it to guide you.

Do the rivers ‘decide’ to flow along a particular path, or do they find their route through the obstacles and rocks in their way?

Does the tiny plant decide not to grow beneath that tarmac, thinking that it might never achieve it’s goal? Road surface is rather tricky after all!  

Does the violet, which grows beneath the tree, decide that ‘this place is too dark for me. I should really grow where there is more light’.

And does the winter snow decide where it will fall?  Man only likes it’s beauty aspects, so perhaps its creative artistry is wasted on roads and buildings.

It might decide that it is too damaging after all to fall where it will.

And yet, this is what you do every day. You allow the ‘real’ to fall away and allow only that which you think is good and right to enter your world.

But this we say to you.

Who are you to judge, in your rational minds, what is right and what is good?

How can you tell, if all that you experience comes from the ‘light’?

Think of the violet beneath the tree. Its colour is vibrant, its scent is sweet, because it grows in the shadows. Growing in the light is not its path. It cannot survive in it.

The snow too has its function. Without it your trees are not so fruitful.

Plants which need extreme cold cannot survive without it. You need it.

But if all you think about is the light you miss all of those incredible, yet painful experiences of growth.

Your soul needs the dark and the light to thrive. Just as seeds germinate in the dark so do your greatest gifts.

So who are you to think you have the right to create only the light?

Look into the darkness sometimes.

Look into the dark cellar, the steps of which grow ever darker as you move down them.  

Investigate what the darkness holds for you.

Do not be afraid to it. It holds many mysteries.

If it is your fear of the dark which holds you back, investigate that too. Where does this fear come from? Confront it. Do not fear it. It is there to guide and teach you.

Remember Anubis, guide to the Underground realms. Let him guide you now through the mysteries of life and love, the darkness and the light. For they are brother and sister in truth. Not darkness and light. Reframe your perceptions of what it means to grow and you will find that your growth is accelerated, not retarded, by your journey.

That is ALL. 

Yesterday morning, Sunday, I was listening to the radio 4 church service. The teaching was ‘The loaves and the fishes’. You know?  The one where Jesus miraculously fed the 5.000 people with only 5 loaves and 2 fishes after the death of his friend and teacher John the Baptist? As I sat, finishing up a beading project, listening to the teaching, I was struck by the fact that people never questioned this story. They relate it as though it was an absolute truth. But to me they were completely missing the point!  Jesus was a spiritual teacher and everything he did was designed to teach people something significant. There is a deeper meaning to this story, a mystery which is still not acknowledged today.

People, such as Dr Marcellino D’Ambrosio,  have looked into certain Judaic meanings behind the symbolism, such as the five loaves representing the Mosaic teachings in the Torah. There are 5 books in the Torah.  So perhaps, on one level, Jesus was expanding on the teachings and inner story of Moses, who was a great prophet and teacher.

But Jesus is also quoted as saying that he is the ’Bread of Life’.  To my mind this in a mis-interpretation. He is also known as the ‘Water of Life’. That feels more appropriate somehow. But can he be both bread and water? All spiritual nourishment?  To many he is but I have experienced a completely different awareness of what the bread represents. Over the past fifteen years of doing energy healing at many sacred sites around the world  I have found that the Bread actually is the Bread of the Mother, of the earth.

My first experience of this came in 2006 in Cumbria at a stone circle complex in a woods called Broomrigg Plantation. One of my psychic gifts is the ability to tap into ancient knowledge and experience it in the present. I learned this while studying an archaeology degree in Winchester and have learned more history this way than through any amount of archaeology! It is a form of psychometry I suppose. Tapping into objects or places and opening doorways into past lives.

Broomrigg Stone Circle

But on this occasion, standing on an ancient stone which has once formed part of a stone circe, I went back to the Bronze Age and found myself watching an ancient winter solstice ritual. I saw  the circle as it had been then and within stood a priest. Within the circle also stood containers of wheat which had been harvested the previous autumn. There the priestess, who personified Artemis (Was a little surprised at that!) drew down the energy of the sun and brought it into the earth which opened like a womb to accept the solar energy, thereby fertilising a giant ovum and filling the womb with golden light. The priest had strewn wheat grains around the inside of the circle petitioning the Goddess Artemis, within whose hands he had placed a sheaf of corn. As this happened the wheat in the containers were also ‘charged’ with solar light which effectively imbued them with life so that when they planted them again in the spring their produce would be abundant. At the end of the ritual he then sprinkled water around the inside of the circle also as without rain the wheat could not grow.

Once the ‘ritual’ had been completed some of the grain was taken from the containers, ground into flour and made into bread. Each household in the tribe was given a portion of this ‘charged’ bread in order to bring fertility to the entire tribe over the coming year.

This was an amazing experience and it opened the doors to many questions. Over the past few years some of these questions have found answers. I had on occasion had to travel back to Ireland for Catholic funerals or memorial services and noticed during the consecration of the bread and wine, during the Mass, that all the energy from ‘Above’ seemed to charge the wine but not the bread! I noticed this on numerous occasions. I also thought it was significant that only the priest drank this wine, thereby gaining the benefit of its charged energy but the communication wafers, the ‘Bread/Body of Christ’ had no energy whatsoever and this was distributed to the people during the Mass. I thought that this was very interesting! Why was the bread not ‘charged’ and why was it only the priest who benefited from the spiritual energy which should have benefited everyone? I wondered if it was to do with power dynamics within the early church? Communion is such a significant part of the Catholic Mass ritual. I can remember as a child taking communion seriously, believing that I was eating part of Jesus’ body! When it stuck to the roof of my mouth and broke, when I tried to remove it with my tongue, I felt it was a serious disaster! Jesus was as real to me as the priest, but with much more importance!!!

Communion.

The word communion signifies a joining, a sharing of energy, but there is no energy here! It is rice paper!!! So for years I have wondered why this change had come about. I only rarely have communion now. If I feel an impulse I will take it, even though I know it contains nothing. However, this year I experienced another ‘teaching’ through ‘time-travel’ that explained more of the mystery! It was in St. Dogmaels’ Abbey in Wales, near Cardigan Bay. I was doing my usual energy work as I do in many churches, both ancient and those still in use, when I was impulsed to stop at a point which was below ground level. In the past the altar of the church would have stood above this room and as I stood in the centre of the ‘cellar’ I felt a powerful female earth energy, like a vortex. It was still active and very strong. When I stood in it I began to ‘see’ a monk standing in front of the altar in the room above me. He was consecrating the wine and the bread but as he did the bread, which was a round loaf, he drew the energy of this vortex into the bread, spiritualising it with this female energy of the Earth, the Mother! Next he drew down the energy of the sun and consecrated the wine with this energy, the Male fertilising principle! I was fascinated!!! Finally I understood! Somewhere along the line this connection and honouring of the role of the Mother, Earth, in sacred ritual became lost.

The Abbey itself was built in the 12th Century and is a Trionian Abbey, founded by monks from France who were dissatisfied with the way things were going in the French Monasteries. They wanted to get back to a simpler way of living and serving God. But obviously they also knew that the balance depended on honouring both Mother and Father.

At one point during this exploration through time I was also given the understanding of the Holy Trinity!  The Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit. The Father is obvious, he is the male principle, Solar, Christ Light. The Holy Spirit is the Mother, the Female principle, the Earth and the son is the priest /medium. The Son, of both Mother and Father, is the priest, the medium between the two, who is able to work with both of these energies and  who is trained to the point where he can materialise both these energies in the bread and wine, thereby bringing succour to the community through their distribution! What is missing here of course is the female representative! But at least they still knew what they were doing! Even though they were using both energies in a less earth-focused way than our ancestors at Broomrigg had done.

But, what I still do not know, is when even this understanding disappeared. Perhaps during the dissolution of the monasteries, when the Divine Feminine, through Mary, was removed from the collective consciousness. Perhaps that understanding will come late.

So, back to the loaves and the fishes. It seems to me that Jesus too was trying to teach about this balance between the Masculine and the Feminine. The bread of Life comes from the earth, from the Mother. The fish is a male symbol, and one which I also have experienced in the course of my work, and I know that it was a symbol of life in the Ancient Solar priesthoods of Egypt, Greece and Western Europe. But I am still learning that one. The symbol of Christianity is the Fish but we don’t know the full story yet. Jesus was teaching the multitudes about Honouring the Mother and Father, the Earth and the Heavens. Just as the commandments said. Not just your earthly Mother and father, but all of life through the earth Mother and Father Sky, or God! Feeding the people is teaching the people.  I believe the story tells us that nourishment comes from Mother and Father. What comes from the sky is Masculine, sun and rain, which fertilises the earth, the feminine, so that all her people can live. You cannot exist without both. What can you create with water and sun alone? Without the mixture of earth, what is it? If you honour both you can feed thousands. So maybe we need to get back to that!  We need to relearn all of these ways of thinking about the earth, or Gaia and her relationship to God, in order for us to live sustainable and fulfilling lives. Its really not that hard. We just have to change our core beliefs. It might take years but at least the world of the future will be one worth living in again!

Mottisfont Abbey, Serpent and Rose.

Posted by gaiamethod on July 31, 2011 | EDIT

I went to Mottisfont Abbey in Hampshire thinking I would do some more Earthwork there but, apart from some very nice ice-cream, abysmal coffee and a nice walk there was no energy work to be done. But I did get the chance to get some photos. 

This is a Rainbow Trout which was swimming in the small river Test which runs through the Abbey grounds and no doubt the river was much of the reason why the Augustinian Priory was built there in the 13th Century.

The name Mottisfont refers to the natural spring, which never runs dry, and which rises above the river. It is also believed that that it was originally important in Saxon times as a Meeting place, or Moot. Hence the name ‘Mottis’ or Moot, ‘Font’ spring.  However, springs such as these were also associated with the Mother Goddess so there might very well be older associations. A site as perfect and as fertile as this would not have been missed by earlier cultures. Mottisfont  is also famous for its rose gardens and has some beautiful varieties of rose, some of which I now have in my own garden. The spring itself seems to have an interesting energy. There is a serpent energy which seems seems to go underground in the summer when the water level is low and is very present in Winter when the water is in full flow. We made a a lovely essence of Serpent and Rose here which is a combination of  Goddess Love and fertility.

This beautiful swan was also swimming in the river above the fish. It was lovely to see them all vying for the food which visitors threw in for them.

One of the cygnets on the river Test.

The Priory itself was founded in 1201 by Richard Briwere, who was a trusted advisor to King Richard the Lionheart and others. It is quite disappointing that there is so little information on this early history of the priory as most of the attention is focussed on the later renovation of the house and the Whistler Rooms. However, there is some of the original Abbey still existing. The crypts beneath the house are the original storerooms of the Abbey and here you can still feel the original energy. I could spend all day there!

The energy of the Priory is still very much present here and it feels familiar and comforting. I always feel more comfortable with energies of the past when they were of a sacred nature. On a physical level I like the damp smell of the bricks and mortar and the darkness. I always want to touch the damp green algae which grows on the brickwork as the damp of the earth seeps through the walls. As always happens when I am here I can feel the energy of the sacred earth beneath my feet and I always follow the impulse to walk out of this door and into the cloisters which once lay outside it.

Directly across from the crypt entrance and hidden in an alcove is a beautiful mosaic angel. It is created beside an original doorway of the abbey. It has taken me so many times to find this angel as it is literally hidden beneath the building so it feels like  finding a treasure once you have actually found it!

And this treasure? A beautiful, and very old tree beside the river. Although I think it is two trees which have grown together to form one. The Two become One. I love this tree.

So, although it was a lovely walk and a relaxing time there was nothing to do but enjoy. So enjoy I did!!

The Priestess Path of the Rose.

As each petal unfolds, its treasures exposed to the elements,

A light begins to shine out into the world of man.

A light bright and exciting,

Bringing light and joy to the hearts of all.

In this, their greatest hour of need,

We come to bring our succour.

We bring all of our gifts,

Our light, our joy.

Our feminine wonder and delight in creation.

For we are the priestesses of the great Mother.

Her honey bees,

Filling the crevices of need with Divine Honey,

Filling the world with her sweetness and joy,

For all to know and savour.

Our gifts we give freely to mankind,

For this is our journey too.

A journey of the heart,

Without which we would not learn to share our gifts.

We need you as much as you need us,

For we cannot learn without you.

You teach us where you are wounded… through your wounding.

You teach us of what you lack… through creating lack.

And you teach us of lovelessness…through your lack of self-love.

All this we see and absorb into ourselves until we know what your needs are.

All this we forge into new feelings, for we love you in all your human glory.

All of these gifts you give, in the form of pain and darkness, we transmute and recreate into beauty.

Filling the world with a new vibration,

A new light,

A new love.

For this is our world and we share it all with you now.

We fill your coffers with our heart’s abundance,

With the Divine Mother’s love and creation.

It is our gift to you, in your hour of need.

Use it wisely and learn the lessons of the past.

We are ever with you.

In love. 

Brisingamen by Thorskegga Thorn. (Commentary is mine)

Commentary.

My guides had, for months, been bringing my attention to this story which I only now understand. This version describes it better than any other version I have read so far. 

This story is about the Goddess Path and how each sacred relationship, no matter how difficult, adds another 'power' to your already created necklace of life experience and wisdom. As a Priestess learns to be the Goddess, which is a lifelong path once embarked upon, relationships become very different. Often they are very difficult emotionally and one cannot apply 'normal' rationale to them. When I say 'normal' I mean within self-development terms. They can feel abusive, painful, co-dependent and downright unbearable sometimes but they have to be 'undergone' in order to gain the prize, becoming the Divine Feminine. They often have a strong karmic element to them and are mainly to do with service to the planet and to Humanity. There is a very definite feel of when you are ready to release the relationship and your karmic work is done. The gifts to come out of these relationships make you stronger,with more self-knowledge and with gifts of healing and abundance. They often facilitate your work and development in material terms, depending on what you need to develop. But you have to give some part of yourself to the relationship in order to gain the deep healing and gifts.

This path is the Old path, as told in the story, but only the strongest of women, women who are undergoing, a deep underworld journey themselves, can stay with them. In the initial stages you are aware that this is a healing journey but as you go further it becomes more and more about the anchoring the Goddess energy in your self. Becoming one with her. Each of these relationships are gone into very consciously and under guidance and run contrary to everything we are taught in our self-development. It is only when we have reached a certain point in our development that we can undertake these relationships at all. It is a very powerful process of Anchoring the Goddess consciousness in ourselves so that the male consciousness can be healed. At the end of this process the Goddess can then join with her consort, bringing all her gifts and skills with her to lighten the earth and its people, with him. In the beginning he does not recognise her but eventually he sees her gifts and knows. 

Each dwarf in this story is one such relationship and the Goddess Freya goes into each willingly even though it is painful but in doing so she gains something which helps her in her role as Goddess. This happens when the Goddess consciousness is rising again as it is now. Each one brings his own challenges and gifts but without making these sacrifices she knows that she will not succeed in her path of Being the Goddess, and the world will not receive her gifts. 

BRISINGAMEN.

Two fair goddesses sat close by the weaving loom, the Vanir queen and Beyla, the mead maker. Freyja frowned, concentrating on the half image of woven silk before her, eager to complete her work. Freyja hoped to have the tapestry on the wall of the ale hall before her brother returned. She sighed, 'tapestries take so long' she mused, 'even for goddesses' ! Freyr stood before her in the shining silks, sword raised in triumph, the earth dragon dead at his feet, ancient days, at the beginning of the world. Freyja reached for another skein and twined the thread into the weaving.

Suddenly Freyja's concentration was broken as her brother ran into her chamber, a boyish smile on his face and a golden boar trotting at his side. Freyja stared in disbelief, the boar shone like the sun and gazed at her with large and intelligent eyes. Beyla leaped up with delight, scattering her tools. "Isn't he wonderful ?" Freyr cried happily, "the dwarves made him for me ! And this as well !", Freyr pulled a small wooden object from his purse. Freyja, still somewhat taken aback by the boars appearance, took it from his hand, and was shocked to be holding a miniature battleship, perfect in every detail..

"Why " was all the Vanadis could say.

"Oh, it was some knavery of Loki's, but the dwarves were honoured to make treasures for all the gods. Thor's got a lovely hammer.

"And what did they make for me" asked Freyja.

Freyr's face fell, " Er, nothing dear, maybe Loki forgot to mention you".

"We will soon see about that" Freyja said coldly, and demanded to know the names of the dwarven smiths. The nervous Freyr told all he know and watched his beloved snatch her feather cloak and hurtle angrily into the air in falcon form.

"Ah, women !", Freyr sighed, grinning sheepishly down at the boar who oinked in agreement.

Far away in the lands of men, a storm thrashed at the wings of a struggling falcon. Thor was enjoying his new hammer and Freyja's weather spells weren't having any effect on the tempest. Freyja was in a black mood when she landed in the dwarves' cave mouth. Freyja shrugged off the cloak and wrung out its' sodden feathers, and magicked her damp hair and clothes back to respectability. She set off down the stone tunnels with a determined and dangerous stride.

Far beneath the ground, where the sun's light could never reach, Freyja found the dwarves she was searching for. They were exhausted from their recent endeavours, drunk with good ale and half heartedly arguing the finer points of metallurgy. Freyja demanded her share of the treasures that had been made for the other gods. The dwarves groaned "Come back next week" said one.

"If I even see another set of bellows before the month's end, I'll die" said another.

Freyja was not prepared to wait and screamed at the dwarves: "You have no honour for the goddesses !" she cried, "You should be ashamed !".

The master smith Eitri grinned up at Freyja through hazy drunken eyes, "Be fair madam, you will get no work out of us today but there are four brothers nearby who will gladly make you a treasure, but it will cost you dear.

"I will pay if I must" Freyja muttered. Eitri gave her directions and the goddess strode off, determined to find a treasure to match the others. The dark tunnels took Freyja further and further from the world of men and finally she came to the forge Eitri had described. The dwarves were working here, their hammers clattering and echoing around the vaulted ceiling. The fire of the forge reflected on their pale, corpselike faces and Freyja shuddered at the sight. One dwarf looked up and gasped at the visitor, the first woman these low dwellers had ever seen.

Freyja walked in haughtily, well aware of the effect her firelit beauty was having on the smiths. "I have come to commission a treasure from you. Are you aware of the gifts made so recently forthe gods ?" "Aahh";, hissed one of the smiths, "gifts given freely, the unskilled work of amateurs !".

"You can do better ?";, asked Freyja.

"We can, if you are prepared to pay".

"I am", Freyja replied.

"Then we will set to work, and when the treasure is finished we can discuss what is due". The dwarves whispered amongst themselves and then set to work, stoked the fire into a towering searing blaze, pumped hard at the bellows, poured liquid gold from crucibles and hammered busily. Content that she would return with a prize worthy of a goddess, Freyja relaxed away from the scorching heat of the forge.

After an hour the fire died down and the dwarves brought their work to Freyja for inspection, between them they held a glittering and elaborate necklace of gold and amber, intricate beyond belief and of unsurpassed beauty. Freyja was filled with an uncontrollable desire to own the jewels, and asked what she owed them for their work. The dwarves grinned and said "We want you".

"What ?", Freyja sobbed in horror, aching with desire for the necklace, "you expect me to live in this hole ?".

"Nay", answered one of the dwarves,"only for four days, one with each of us". Freyja was filled with disgust at the very sight of the pale smiths, but she had to have the necklace, after a few minutes thought she consented.

The ugliest dwarf grabbed the necklace and shooed his brothers away, he turned to the goddess and said "Lady, my name is Alfrigg. Will you honour your promise and lie with me until the forge is cold ?" .

"I will honour my promise" Freyja replied. Alfrigg held out the necklace and gestured for Freyja to bend down so he could fasten it round her neck. The dwarf arranged the jewels in three tiers and Freyja was overjoyed at having the treasure about her shoulders. She smiled at the dwarf in pure pleasure, seeing not his ugliness but the skill which had crafted the gorgeous necklace and loved him for it. She untied her belt, unfastened the golden pins securing her gown and let it fall softly to the floor. The dwarf shuddered with desire for the naked goddess standing before him in the firelight, the gold and amber sparkling above her breasts and her smooth skin reflecting the embers' glow. Freyja knelt down in front of him and kissed his lips warmly, then pulled his face against her bosom. Alfrigg squealed with delight and kneaded her breasts as she pulled off his breeches. She lay down and drew him to her.

The embers were cooling and Alfrigg lay exhausted in Freyja's arms. "Never has such pleasure been known in the dwarven halls", sighed the dwarf. "Because you gave yourself to me so completely I will add a gift of dwarven magic to your prize", Alfrigg stroked the necklace and spoke charms of power over it. "No man you desire will resist you while you wear this necklace, no magic will defend them against you, even the gods will be brought to their knees with lust for you".

The cavern had grown cold and Alfrigg helped the goddess into her gown. Time passed and Alfrigg's brothers returned, they relit the forge fire and stoked the flames into a roaring blaze. The stockiest of the dwarves declared himself to be next and ordered his brothers out of the room.

"I am Dvalin", the dwarf declared, "and you are mine until the fire grows cold". The dwarf leaped at Freyja with astonishing strength and tore her dress from her. He pummelled her breasts roughly so she gasped with pain. He bit her nipples and entered her, clawing at her woman hood with his fingers. The hours of abuse passed slowly for Freyja, but she lay for him without complaint, thinking always of the necklace heavy on her neck, and the power it now contained.

Eventually the fire cooled and the breathless Dvalin ceased his rough play. The dwarf grinned at her, saying "because you gave yourself to me so completely I will add my own magic to your prize". Dvalin, all fury gone, stroked the necklace gently and spoke dwarven charms. "No warrior you admire will fail to please you while you wear this necklace. No army you support will fail on the battlefield. No fallen warrior will resist your call and no magic of men or gods will prevent you". Dvalin put blankets around the goddess and held her tenderly as the fire died. The brothers returned and kindled the fire, piling the fuel high.

The third dwarf claimed the right to lie with Freyja, and his fellows left the room. "I am Berling", the dwarf declared, "will you love me as you loved Alfrigg, my brother ?". Freyja was still sore and weary from Dvalin's attentions but, determined to settle her debt for the fabulous necklace, nodded. She let the blankets fall from her shoulders and the dwarf marvelled at her naked beauty. The dwarf gently pulled Freyja to her knees, the better to reach her with his short stature. He kissed her, then explored her body slowly and passionately with his tongue, encouraged by Freyja's gasps of pleasure as he suckled at her nipples. Finally he supped from Freyja's chalice, the goddess moaned with joy, after Dvalin's harsh lovemaking, this was bliss.

"Will you do the same for me ?" asked Berling. Freyja nodded again and pulled the dwarf's shirt over his head, only to check in horror, for Berling's body was covered in festering scabs. Freyja concentrated hard on the necklace, on beloved Freyr, fair Vanaheim and all she held dear and returned the dwarf's attentions. The pus from his wounds was foul in her mouth but she took care to repay him fairly. Berling screamed as Freyja bought him to the heights of passion, and then he lay in her arms, gasping for breath.

Once he had recovered the dwarf gazed up at the goddess in admiration. "Only the bravest of women could have embraced a wretch like me. Because you gave yourself to me so completely I will add my own magic to your prize". Berling stroked the necklace and muttered his dwarven charms. "You will have the might to overcome all illness while you wear this necklace. No curse will prevent you. Death itself no barrier to your healing". Freyja laughed with happiness and wove charms around the dwarf. By the end of her song there was no sign of his wounds. She held Berling in her arms until the fire burned low, and the dwarf rose to wrap her in blankets and furs.

In the deep cavern, the sunless hours passed and the other dwarves returned to the forge and rebuilt the fire. The fourth brother seemed most reluctant to claim his rights and hung back. His comrades laughed at him and left crying shouts of encouragement. "What is your name ?", asked Freyja, smiling with amusement at his nervousness.

"Grerr", the dwarf mumbled staring at his feet.

"Don't you want me ?" asked Freyja.

Grerr was very short, even for a dwarf, and clearly lacked the confidence of his brothers. "If you don't want to do this", Grerr stammered, "you don't have to - I won't tell them". Freyja frowned, was he unwilling, or suffering a virgin's nightmares of impotency ? Freyja owed a debt to this dwarf, and her pride would not see an oath broken lightly. Using her magic she reached out to Grerr's mind, and felt it full of lust and fear of failure. Grerr thought himself unworthy of a goddess and it would take a strong charm to restore his confidence.

Freyja drew the dwarf to her and let the blankets fall from around her shoulders. Grerr stared up at her, in helpless reverence of the unreachable divinity before him. Freyja willed him to desire her body and the necklace burned brighter around her shoulders. The dwarf's uncertainty snapped and he leapt into her arms and buried his mouth into her bosom. Freyja held the dwarf, scarcely larger than a child , to her breast as he suckled with the passion of a man. She lay down for him and Grerr, the virgin, mounted her like a veteran. The forge fire slowly dwindled and Grerr pulled the blankets back around Freyja to keep her warm. "You repaid me faithfully", the dwarf said proudly, "Because you honoured your debt when you could have shunned me, I will add my own magic to your prize".

Grerr stroked the necklace and sang his charms. "Your beasts and the beasts of your friends will be fertile when you wear this necklace. The ground where your feet fall will yield the best of crops and flowers. No woman you love dearly will want for a child".

Grerr's brothers returned and gathered to bid Freyja farewell. The goddess hugged them all in turn, thanking them for the wondrous necklace and their priceless gifts. She retrieved her falcon feather cloak and followed the tunnels back to the sunlit lands. At the cavern's entrance she paused, the storm was long over and after the dim forge the light was overwhelming. Freyja stood triumphant, enjoying the warm sun on her naked skin, the wind in her hair, and the weight of the necklace on her shoulders. Vanaheim's call was strong after so long away. She threw the falcon feather cloak around her shoulders and soared into the sky.

Freyr sat miserably in the meadows of Vanaheim, his beloved had been gone for days and he pined for her company. His gold bristled boar lay beside him in the sun, rivalling its brilliance. A hawk's cry broke the stillness and the boar rose onto his forelegs and grunted a welcome to the swooping bird. Freyja let the falcon's form drop away as she alighted before her brother. Freyr stared at the goddess he thought he knew so well. She wore a necklace that put the sun, moon and stars to shame, wild flowers sprang from the turf where she walked towards him and she kindled a lust in him that seared him to his very soul. Freyja embraced him and he wept for joy.

Prophecies...

According to ancient annals, the time of the prophecies is drawing near. But this we say to you now, these prophecies have no time limit. They have no stationary point, they are moveable teachings, teachings which are designed to make man more aware of that which is changing and that which needs to change.

For this reason we are beginning the downloads of the New Egypt. These codes are codes of practice, designed to move man along one of the prophetic paths as set out by the prophets, both ancient and modern.

For this reason too do we impose ourselves on the will of humankind. In order to affect the way man’s mind works we need to install new ways of thinking, new codes for living, new ideas of survival. Only with these new codes can man survive the changes which are always upon him. There is no time when changes are not happening. But man sees only from his own perspective and time frame, and so the prophecies seem to take on a meaning, a life of their own if you will. But they are not the end, they are always ‘beginning’ for they are designed to be a process, and not an event.

Try this now: Imagine that you are living in a time of great change, such as the current one for instance. Now cast your consciousness back to a previous time in your long existence on planet earth. Try to find a time where there was no change, of any kind whatsoever. Now, once you have found such a time, see, with your inner eye and imagine what this life must have appeared to be from the perspective of your fellow man in that time. What were his thoughts do you think? What perspective on change did he hold? What did he feel about his life path and the paths of others?

View his life from his perspective and see how the prophecies might have taken hold. Did they apply to him? Or to some future time? Are these prophecies always ‘in the future’? Or are they for ‘Now’. Use your spiritual mind here, do not think about what appears, but allow the images of man’s memory to arise in your mind, then watch as they evolve.

When you have done this you will understand what prophecy truly means and how to work with them. For they are codes, codes to be deciphered and understood so that the right path is always taken. They are not designed to instil fear in human hearts but to inspire hope!  

We leave you now with this maxim: leave all but the most positive outcomes behind you now. Leave the world of care and woe and design a future based on love and support. All of humanity will one day find this support but first it must change its views and understanding of how the Mother consciousness works in their hearts. And in order to do this they must understand that prophecy is not an end unto it self but a means to change such thoughts and beliefs, ensuring a loving, supportive future for all.

That is all. The masters of Time. Adonai. 

What you are to me...

Once upon a time, in a distant meadow, there lived a tree. For years the tree has lived a life where countless people have taken from it. Its branches are bare of leaves and fruit. So many people have taken from it that little now remains. Its branches are withered because no-one has thought to water it and give it light. So it goes into hibernation, into hiding. Hoping that it will survive the constant stealing of its life-force.

But then one day a man appears in the distance and he finds the tree. He begins to water it, pouring water into its roots, letting the sunlight shine on it.  The tree is surprised, she feels the water and begins to feel full. She likes this feeling of being watered and watches the man who has done this. She sees into his heart and sees his essence, recognises it. Her heartwood begins to fill with his essence and for a while she feels good. But then the man goes away and the tree begins to feel that maybe he will not return to water her again, so she goes back to sleep. She goes back to what she knows. But she cannot forget him. She cannot fully sleep. Even though she is afraid that he will not water her again, and that maybe he was just being kind, she begins to notice that her leaves are beginning to bud. Her life force is beginning to make her grow again. So she calls out for the man. She wants him to come again. And he does. He sits on her roots and they talk...and they talk. And she begins to feel a great love for him he who gives so freely. She is still scared but she likes what is happening to her. Her branches are now full with leaves and flowers are beginning to appear. She is becoming the tree she was meant to be. 

Now she wants this man to be with her all the time. She wants to build him a house in her branches, to protect him and love him. To make him feel safe. She wants to share her life essence with him as he shares his with her. She knows that this man is a source of life for her. His essence runs through her now and she can no longer live without it. 

But now, because she needs him so much, she fears that one day he will not come back, that his essence will stop filling her up. She knows that nothing will grow without his love and care. He is the sun that makes her flowers grow and blossom. The flowers which she wants to share with him. One day these flowers will become fruit and these too she wants to share with him...one day...

 She knows that they each have different means of communicating, so she tries to learn what he is saying to her, to understand his needs, to show him her love. She wants to provide the love he needs, to give herself to him. She wants him to feel, and to know, that her life is now his life. That she is happy to share all that she is, and has, with him. For that is her purpose and without him it cannot be.  Without him she cannot exist, for he is her life now.

Her reason for being...

The Beauty Way.

Mount Brandon, Graig. 

Last night I had a dream. I dreamt that I was in a large country house which had terraced gardens which could only be reached by a long set of ornamental stone steps. On the topmost level of the gardens was a rectangular pond. I wanted to go to the pond but walked to the other side of the gardens where I discovered another set of steps. These also led up to the pond, as though there was a front way and a back way. These steps however were blocked by a large iron gate which had now fallen down, allowing me to climb over and climb the steps. The male owner of the house and gardens had built this gate to block the entrance. 

Steps to Terrace garden.

Climbing carefully through the railings and up the steps I saw that the original builder of the house had built a little alcove into the side of the stone bannisters and had placed a beautiful copper sculpture of an angel or woman. The sculpture had been very beautiful once but now had decayed so only the lower half of the body remained, corroded and green. I wondered about the man who had built this beautiful place and why the current owner had blocked this entrance. 

At that point I awoke and understood that these steps were the path to spiritual nourishment on a higher level, symbolised by the pond on the top level of the gardens.

The house and garden was my grandparents house in Ireland.The man who had originally built it moved back to London and wrote books about Egypt in the early 20th Century. He had created this house and gardens for his wife but my own family, business people, had somehow 'blocked' the creative steps to success and only left open the business side of things. My grandparents family were quite famous writers, artists, poets and antiquarians and rebuilt Graignamanagh abbey. But their gifts too were blocked in favour of money and business. The creative steps to success are the blocked steps. 

The corroded copper female figure is the Goddess Venus with her alchemical symbol of copper. The 'foundations' of her remain and so can still tell us her story but we must rebuild her. The path of Beauty is also a spiritual path. Creating inspired art, objects of beauty, just like Akhenaten did when he built his beautiful city in honour of the Aten. 

Now it is time for the Beauty Way to be opened again. 

I feel pulled toward creating a life, an art-form in itself, in Egypt, networking the preserving of the old crafts and traditions. It seems my dream is opening the Way for me.  

Heart Voice

Gift 
For women who loved 
. 
  

Akhenaten and Nefertiti ...... The love story does not die 

   

 We are now in 1375 BC .. I mean, since 33 centuries ago .. 

Here, Amenhotep the lll, father of Amenhotep lV,  has left this world for the next one. Amenhotep lll, co-ruled with his father for ten years but now he is he sole ruler in his place.

His mother, Queen Tiye, was secretly worried, for she saw the spiritual viewpoint of her son. She saw that he had the light of god in his eyes and that he was destined for a higher life.

Queen Tiye, herself an Israelite, wanted her son to be in a love-filled marriage for she could see that her son would need all of her support and love in order to continue the work his father had begun, that of changing the status of the Priesthood of Amun.

And thus, the boy and girl who had played together as children, pretending to be husband and wife, truly were. They painted their hair black and wore scarves which spoke of their semi-divine status. They lay on pillows in their papyrus boat, rowed by slaves, and drifted along the waters.

She was a beautiful wife and her twinkled with happiness as she showed the world that she was not ashamed of the love she felt for her husband and for the world.

She cut her hair short, shorter than was fashionable at the time. When she appeared at a formal occasion she would wear a royal blue veil with a red crown, symbolising the protection of life. Its red ribbon trailing out behind her, her status of ownership.

After meals with her family the nurses would come and take care of the children. She loved spending time with them. Her family were precious to her.

At special times they would stand at the Window of Appearance and throw flowers and gold jewellery to their faithful followers in Akhetaten. They showered them with love, their love and the love of the Aten. Many gold tributes were sent to them there in their holy city, presents and gifts from far-flung parts of the empire.

Every morning they awoke to songs of praise, and they each went, hand in hand, to their private bathrooms.

The royal handmaidens would bather her in beautifully scented water, then would apply expensive scented olive oils to her skin. If she was to attend a royal function they would burn sandalwood and the scent of this would permeate the oil on her body, adding its sacred scent to the oils.

Her hands and feet would be smeared with reddish-pink henna and when it was dry she would be dressed in a dress of transparent linen. Her slave placed beautiful sandals on her feet polished brass and carved ivory. Next they applied the black make-up on her eyes, and darkened her own already black eyebrows.  They applied black kohl to her eyes, to protect them from the glare of the sun and dust of the desert. Red was on her lips and then her handmaid put on the jewellery that she was to wear. Rings, necklaces, ear-rings and bracelets. Then she would instruct the  supervisor of the Royal Wardrobe to select the  dress which she herself had chosen to wear.

The beauty of Nefertiti became legendary and the people would gather to get a look of her whenever she accompanied her husband.

After appearing at the Window of Appearances they would go together to the Solar Temple and bring offerings of fruit and flowers. They would pray and bring the light of the Aten, the great Central Sun, into their bodies and then send this energy out to the people and the land so that all would know the Aten and rejoice.

When they were finished they would leave the temple to joyous music and the singing of the priests. Then they would be seen by the people, eat their midday meal and sleep, during the hottest hours of the day.

When they awoke and the shadows on the hills had deepened they would ride out in their carriage together, often accompanied by some of their children. The would ride along the sacred road, the Royal Mile, towards the Queen’s summer palace. This was their regular route and had a sacred significance.

At the summer palace they could rest in the shade of the trees and feel the cool of the waters from the lake. As she trailed her hands in the water she remembered her life as a child  when she had done the same thing with her best friend, Amenhotep, all those years ago.

She was Isis incarnate, the Great Mother of all. As she walked flowers were strewn at her feet and jewel-encrusted flowers were worn on her body, along with richly scented expensive oils and perfumes for her head.

It was their great love for each other, Akhenaten and Nefertiti, which, like a beam of sunlight, exposed the masks of untruths which had been the way for many years.

Akhenaten felt the strength of creations energy, he loved life itself. He saw that all things were the manifestation of Light and Love, and sought to represent this light in everything he created. He wanted art to be real, and true, and so he instructed the artisans to make life-like sculptures of him and his family. Why create what is not true? Was it not better to see things as they truly are?

They had left behind them the old life in Thebes and many dignitaries from other lands would come to Akhetaten to ask for help  and Akhenaten would always offer them hospitality. However, he would naught else. He would not resolve their disputes, would not get involved.

He was not interested in anything but the life he had with Nefertiti and his children, his spiritual creation  and his vision. But dark clouds were looming over bright Akhetaten.

The dark clouds of conspiracies and lies.

But Ann, the beautiful story has a sad ending.

Akhenaten was dead and the once-defeated priests of Amun, freed by his death and filled with rancour and hatred, destroyed and smashed all of his beautiful creations leaving Nefertiti to spin down into a never-ending spiral of loss and despair. The vision lost…never to return.

Until now…

Written by Omar