Stories are what makes the world go round; we all live on the stories that we’ve been told and the stories we’re being told. We couldn’t get up in the morning unless there was a narrative to show us the way, so much so that we can get quite upset when someone tells us a different story that doesn’t chime with “our own”. I put “our own” in inverted commas, because unless it comes from our shamanic ancestors, it is rarely actually “our own”. But Nature abhors a vacuum, and so in the absence of our own sagas, we will hungrily grab hold of any tall tale we’re given.
The further back in time we go, the more wisdom the stories, which our ancestors wrote in the stars, contain. That’s why I dig and dig and dig, looking for the indigenous teachings of those ancient ones whose Rivers of Blood run through our veins in the Bright World Above, and through the dark caverns of the Land Below in which those who came before us are buried, often in the very spot where they fell fighting to defend this sacred soil for future generations. Continue reading
This wonderful poem by Amara Bronwyn MacEachern Hollow Bones sums up, in a nutshell, everything about the specialised shamanic path that I write and teach about.
We locked up our wisdom into our bones
And swallowed the keys
They sank in our rivers of blood
And we forgot the maps
Because we had to forget the mysteries
To keep them safe.
We wove our hair into brooms
And swept over our paths
And then burned the earth with our rage
We didn’t teach our children
It was the only way to protect them,
But in them we planted seeds, seeds and keys
And told them stories and riddles and songs
With no roots, just tangled threads
That would take years to unwind
Just enough time
For the rains to fall again
and put out the fires
For the dams to break
For the rivers to flood
For the paths
to be walked again
For the soil to breathe
And as the old bones crumble
Deep beneath the rubble
We find we’ve always had the keys
Our stories and our maps
Our paths are revealed to some
And the seeds grow again
The threads are unspun
And woven again.
When I do Tarot readings, I say to the person I’m reading for: “You have the opportunity now to ask a question of God or the Higher Power, whatever that means to you – man, woman or unspecified something,” and they usually reply, “Well, I believe in something, but I’m not sure what.”
I’ve come to realise that that the “something, but not sure what,” seems to be the cognitive landmark that many have now reached since seeing through the false narratives of religions that were only ever designed to control us, not to spiritually empower us. It was a story that gave us a foothold on the path when we were but children in our spiritual progress but, now that we’re growing up, we realise that God is probably not an old man in the sky like this version by Michelangelo on the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel in Rome, who sends fire and brimstone in our direction whenever we displease him.
The recent discovery* about Stonehenge being used as the setting for a fertility cult with the standing stones casting phallic shadows at certain times of the year is causing a bit of a stir among dusty old academics. However, it will come as no surprise to my readers and particularly those who’ve read my book Reclaiming Sovereignty which goes into much detail about the sacred shamanic sex rites of our earliest ancestors that were fired up by the spirits of the land and how they were used, thousands of years ago, for the purposes of Sovereignty – to make kings.
You’re wondering why everything is so confusing right now and even if you’re given the opportunity to vote, or to support a political party, you don’t know who to back?
That’s probably because the Deep State, which all over all the political parties like a nasty rash, is actually now at war with itself. It’s really nothing much to do with us cannon-fodder except if we can figure out who is going to promote our best interests, at least we will know who to cheer from the sidelines as these two primeval monsters slug it out. Continue reading
This is a picture of the famed Lady and the Unicorn tapestry, which was woven from silk and wool in Flanders around the 16th century and is now housed in the Cluny Museum in Paris. As you can see, it has been reconstructed in parts, because it was destroyed during the French Revolution.
What it shows is the transfer of Sovereignty – in the form of a casket of the crown jewels – from the spirit of Sovereignty (the larger woman) to the queen or hierodule (sacred prostitute), in order for her pass it on to the new ruler of the land.
As I explain in my book, Reclaiming Sovereignty, at the time when absolute monarchs reigned on Earth, the spirit of Sovereignty was passed to the young king when he spent the night of his coronation with a hierodule, who would initiate him sexually into the Higher Mysteries.
In this way, his higher brain centres, or ‘crown’, would be ignited, giving him greater wisdom and thus the ability to rule over his people with wisdom. The crown, therefore, worn on his head, was just a symbol to indicate what had taken place in his inner consciousness under the skilled attentions of the trained priestess on the night of his coronation. Continue reading
There is a vast difference between shamanism and Satanism. I felt moved to make that distinction clear, knowing that a mainstream audience was about to hit on internet research which alleges that Jimmy Savile, and possibly Edward Heath, were involved in Black or Satanic Masses where children were sexually abused, ritually tortured, and sometimes killed. Continue reading