I sometimes feel like a story archaeologist. I have a mental image of myself, digging and digging and digging underneath all the rotting story mats of the wandering troubadors and tale-tellers of old. Some of those story mats are quite ragged by now; others have gone decidedly mouldy.
However, the deeper I dig, the closer to the original story I get. And then, if I’m lucky, I can find the shamanic themes that ran through what we now call ‘myths’ which show the wisdom of our earliest ancestors – a wisdom that is sadly lacking in much of today’s literary offerings. I then weave these myths into my own stories in a way that I think better reflects their true, multi-dimensional nature.
Most of the ancient myths that have survived and are available to us today were translated either by Christian monks or by PhD students and, as far as I know, none of them were translated by shamans, like me, and that’s why I keep on digging – and sometimes, I hit gold.
The sardonyx cup of this chalice was made in Alexandria in the 2nd century BCE, and the wrought silver-gilted mounting, inset with precious gems and pearls, was commissioned by Abbot Suger of St Denis, France, in the 12th century.
Those of you who know your shamanic sex magic – and if you don’t, I’ve explained all about it, in copious detail, in my book, Reclaiming Sovereignty – will quickly realise that this chalice is symbolic of the operation of the Marriage of the Sun and the Moon. The wrought silver-gilt handles on Abbot Suger’s chalice are a stylistic Fibonacci representation of the Black and Gold serpents as they climb their way up to djed (spinal column) to the Chalice (Holy Grail) of the hypothalamus, where they hang their heads over the rim and then secrete Red and White Serpentine Drops of nectar on to the pineal gland, thus activating the Third Eye. The drops merge and swirl and blend together to form a pinkish colour on the bottom of the Chalice of the hypothalamus.
“HERE she comes,” muttered Cerridwen, through glinting black diamond teeth, as the dark silhouette of a woman came suddenly into view against the pinkening skies on the horizon, running across the top of an undulating field before vanishing again into the dew-laden deeps of the darkening gloaming.
Cerridwen’s wizened snake’s eyes had been scouring the horizon for hours, while she stirred her cauldron with a long silvery ash stick that was almost as gnarled and twisted as herself.
With one black eye firmly fixed on the ever-duskening fields in the distance as the setting sun began to cast its long creeping shadows, she watched from the corner of the other as the Scorpion goddess constellation slowly rose, glittering like an ice crystal palace against the lapis lazuli celestial vault.
Listen to the whole of the first chapter of The Bright World of the Gods here:
We’ve been on such a wild helter skelter ride, lately – a virtual Apocalypse of political revelations – that it’s easy to get mesmerised watching the marionettes on the world stage as they try to cling on to power while the hurricane of the spirit of Sovereignty challenges their citadels.
That said, I want to tell you about my new book, The Bright World of the Gods, which is based on the stories of our own indigenous culture. That’s because, in my experience, geo-political events don’t just happen randomly in a vacuum. When they are an organic ‘populist’ expression, they are the end result of an impetus that springs forth from the hearts and minds of the people and that has its source in spirituality first, and then culture.
This is a real faery story …
The Bright World of the Gods was gifted into my Dreamtime by the spirits of the land that inhabit the other dimensions permeating the Vale of Avalon, in Somerset, England. These spirits are known locally as the Gentle Folk, or the Fae, although you might know them better as faeries. So this is a real faery story for enlightened adults from a benevolent Elder race whose role it is to guide the steps of humanity. Continue reading
When the people of Britain voted to leave the European Union in June 2016, the word on everyone’s lips was Sovereignty.
But what is Sovereignty?
There were some who tried to convince the British people that Sovereignty didn’t really exist, or that if it did, it was over-rated. A few self-styled experts claimed that Sovereignty could be extended or pooled; others insisted that Sovereignty was merely “the ability to get things done.”
All of those pundits were wrong – although they were hardly to blame for their errors. Sovereignty actually starts off life as a spiritual transmission from the spirits of the land, but this is no longer taught to the general populace. Continue reading