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 

Egypt, Old and New Ideas.

Cooking fire and Oven. 

Reading through the comments on the We are all Khaled Said's facebook page I noticed one woman's suggestion on how to rebuild Egypt's tourism industry and try to bring some money back to the local people. Having spent time in Luxor for a few years, and studied some of the works which charities out there do I was struck by the efforts of one charity. They donate gas cookers to very poor families so that they no longer have to cook in the traditional way, i.e. in a pot over a small fire. This makes their lives easier but it made me wonder how they were going to afford to replace the gas bottles/cylinders. Would they have to be dependent now on the charity forever? 

It also felt uncomfortable to me because we were imposing our 'values' on their culture. People in the 'West' spend a fortune on having perfect homes. We replace our 'old' kitchens' for newer models and then throw away all of the appliances which no longer fit the new colour scheme!! I have never understood it! Then, when we see a people who do not have the 'luxury' which we have, we dive in to 'make their lives better'. I think that this 'better' also creates its own problems. 

I love the way poorer Egyptians can make everything out of the earth. They are masters of invention and this is something which I have had a strong connection to in my own life. When I think back over my life I remember the things which I loved to do. As a child growing up in rural Ireland in the 60's we 'kids' had our own self-built house in the woods, complete with fire and kettle on top, filled with water from a local spring. We made tea, boys and girls together and played in the woods. How we didn't burn it down is anyone's guess but we were obviously good at keeping it safe!

Cupboard made of mud.

When I lived in Spain from the age of 11, with my mother, we moved into a villa in Benalmadena Costa. It had a garage full of old furniture. We climbed in the window and created a home in there. Later on, when we moved to Torremolinos and to a new building development, we had huge concrete pipes which then became our 'home'. We foraged in the surrounding countryside, (There actually were fields full of crops and sugar-cane then!) often on horseback. We came home with bags of grapes, usually stolen!! Pomegranates, avocados, sugar cane and vegetables from the edge of fields. We even stole a chicken once and plucked it, built a fire and cooked it on a spit! It wasn't entirely successful but we loved it. We were as independent as we could have been. I never liked houses, always preferring to be outdoors.

Then when I was 14, we moved back to Dublin to live with my father and step-mother. Nightmare!!! My independence was taken away and we lived in a house which was so 'perfect' that we were not allowed to do anything! The life I loved with my mother, free and able to survive on nothing, was stripped away and I lived a modern life. I hated it. I felt completely trapped. Dependent once again.  

Now as an adult I feel the same sense of being trapped by modern conveniences. I hate this life. I want to live a life of connection to the earth again. To make my own furniture, my own clothes, to be self-sufficient. 

So when I see 'progress' in rural Egypt I see possible disaster! I love their traditional bread making skills, cooking skills, furniture making skills, because this feels 'normal' and right to me. I worry about them becoming so dependent on modern luxuries that these old survival ways become lost. Maintaining a modern life means becoming a slave to gas companies, electricity companies. Yes having a gas cooker makes a woman's life easier. Yes I can see the value of a fridge but the energy has to be paid for!! More money is then needed to maintain that lifestyle and so it goes on! 

When a person builds a cupboard from the mud it has cost them nothing. I love this ability to create something with nothing but what nature has provided, and some creative thinking and craft skills. Poor Egyptians are incredibly creative, because they have had to be. But I love this about them and I fear that they will lose this in an effort to be 'modern'. 

Hassan Fathy House in New Gourna, Luxor. 

Some of us here in Europe and the US recognise that life needs to change. Our 'modern' way of living strips away our ability to survive and thrive in the natural world. We are relearning how to build our own houses, to make clay ovens, to live closer to the earth. To find new, free ways of cooking, living and storing food. There is so much we could learn from the rural Egyptian people. So much we can reconnect to. Before it is all lost in the mad race for 'modernisation'. 

Hassan Fathy, to me, was the Father of earth-based living. He designed everything to suit the environment and I would love a house built by his design. One day I intend to build one. 

Tomorrow I will write about him!

Egypt today...and tomorrow.

After the events in Egypt over the past three weeks I have felt it very difficult to separate my beliefs about energy healing from the political events which happen in places I feel a strong connection with! These last three weeks have kept me on the edge of my seat. I have tweeted, and face-booked and written and watched. I got up early in the morning and went to bed late. I didn't cook, I barely cleaned the house because I just could not take my attention away from what was happening. This fire that is spreading across the Arab world is far too important to worry about my housework! It is changing our world! 

It has been a roller-coaster of emotions, a journey of healing. I have felt my own energies mixed with the collective energy of Egypt. At times I forgot where I was!! Egypt was in my living room! 

This reclaiming of personal power and self-worth has been my own journey over the last 16 years and it was a joy to watch an entire nation go through that. I still get goosebumps just thinking about it!

But although Mubarak has stepped down I still feel that this is a first step. There is so much more to accomplish. My own guidance over the years, through channelling, has told me that, in my future,  I would live in a country which had seen huge change and growth. A culture would be dismantled and then put back together in a new and vibrant way. A country with its roots in the ancient world, the Land of the Great Mother, Egypt. At the time I received it, it made no sense but now I understand. My future is in Egypt's future and I cannot wait! 

Not everyone in Egypt is feeling their power. This is the beginning of their journey also. But it is a  joyous start. As an abuse counsellor I know how difficult the journey to self-worth is but I also know the incredible feeling of stability and power that is achieved during it. 

I wish that all people, all over the world, get to feel this and to know it!  

This is my wish!