So. I got home and re-ignited my internet fix. Again. After being off-line. Again. (I was in Chicago only two weeks ago.) Liking the leisurely, spacious state of mind I switch into when off-line much better than this staticky, hyperkinetic one. Wondering how to transition into more of that without losing what’s otherwise of value to me of this.
Still sleeping in the sleeping bag on the floor, in the living room, on the mat I traveled with up to northern Michigan. Hmmm. What’s that about?
Still reading the book Rolling Thunder; no, still hungrily inhaling each word of every story Doug Boyd tells about shaman Rolling Thunder’s magic. How he could woo a rattle snake, start and stop weather, get somebody out of jail without a court order or papers, appear and disappear at will, know exactly what the author is thinking, even at a distance —and other mysterious happenings that flow from one whose inner nature is at one with the natural order.
Still contemplating the future. Wondering: should I go back to “reading charts” more regularly? — after receiving a phone call this morning from someone who had unearthed a tape I made for her in 2008. She called to thank me, “after seven years.” Said that I had told her “You are here to experience the state of over-giving, and its opposite,” and how different that was from another astrologer who told her that she was an over-giver. So, she said to me, you focused on the experience of over-giving, and that is a very different message. Yes.
She asked if I was still doing readings. I told her yes, for her, and other “selected people.”
Also wondering if I’m going to go more fully into “presentations” of various sorts. Two organizations have asked for them at this point, one this July and the other in September. Both to focus on the Green Acres Neighborhood Garden and Ecovillage. I want to show the garden in its context as an incubating commons for community, since that is what propelled me to start it on the sunny side lawn of the house next door I bought for that purpose in the first place, and what still propells me now.
Wondering, hmmm . . . should I launch an “exopermacultural tour” — whatever that might mean? Maybe a small one? A few days, or a week, in this region? With or without astrology? With or without puppy Shadow?
Wondering, wondering. Meanwhile, opportunities present themselves here that are too fresh to speak of. And meanwhile, I promised more stories from my trip north (on which I took 150 photos). And meanwhile, here’s two photos today, from my front yard —
— and one painting from 2002, twelve years ago, when The Iris and I fused — for a brief hour or two. I painted in a trance and then woke up.
The photo is not centered, the glass is cracked and reflects the screened porch scene, and the watercolors are a bit faded. Hmmm. Notice that the painting, itself a simulacrum (or is it?) from 2002, appears, in the photo, more substantial than today’s porch scene, which shimmers in the background. How timelines morph! No wonder we need our long stories, to keep things straight! Or at least connected! And oh, I forgot to say in that post that another advantage of “telling the long version” of any story intrinsically interesting to the storyteller, is how the stories too, morph with the passage of time. The edge, as we permaculturists like to say, is where all the action is.
Ah, and finally, once again, in the GANG pond, lotus! From yesterday, when Mars turned, this one pink and near spattered bird shit. Perfect, eh? How the quintessence sits next to seeming chaos?
Lotus! As we arise from the mud of our Mars retrograde period to greet the sun.
Oops, the spattering reminds me of a story, one for which I do not have photos. It pertains to Egypt, the pyramids, both Great and not so famous.
What struck me, in that Chamber, was how chaotic it looked in the center, a tumble of stones of various sizes, as I recall, like a collapsed well or cave, like how the world must have appeared after the Great Flood. This room felt so very different from the precision and exactitude of the chambers and passageways above. I googled “meaning of the Subterranean Chamber Great Pyramid” and found this:
In the light of the secret philosophy of the Egyptian initiates, W. W. Harmon, by a series of extremely complicated yet exact mathematical calculations; determines that the first ceremonial of the Pyramid was performed 68,890 years ago on the occasion when the star Vega for the first time sent its ray down the descending passage into the pit. The actual building of the Pyramid was accomplished in the period of from ten to fifteen years immediately preceding this date.
While such figures doubtless will evoke the ridicule of modern Egyptologists, they are based upon an exhaustive study of the principles of sidereal mechanics as incorporated into the structure of the Pyramid by its initiated builders.
But here’s where the story gets interesting. On one of our forays into other pyramids, we traveled to the Red Pyramid, at Dashur,
which has two rooms. The left hand room (aah! Left hand!, get it? The “evil” (read backwards: live), “sinister,” feminine side) reminds me of the Subterranean Chamber in the Great Pyramid, but larger, more important-seeming, indeed seemingly equal to the corbelled precision of the chamber next to it. The author of this description of it, says that the chaos in the chaotic room is the result of robbers. I wonder if that’s true. Once again, it looked like an view from above (and in this case, one enters the room from above, after climbing up a long stairway) of the muddy, stony remains of the Great Flood.
I decided to google “chaos in Etyptian mythology,” and came across this, about an early god “Apep” who mutated into Set, and opposed Ra, the Sun God. Dark and Light. The usual polarity. The shadow inside us all that harbors infinite possibilities, and that must be brought to light, over and over again, as it’s limited expressions seep into view, showing its primal, predatory faces through dreams and nasty projections, both individual (fear, attachment, hate) and collective (capitalism, war).
In any case, I can’t help but think that the “chaos” that I discovered in the bottom of the Great Pyramid and in the parallel side room of the equally precise chiseled stone room in the Red Pyramid were intentional. A warning to the wise. A recognition of the dynamic, balancing yin/yang duality here on this ever-more astonishing (to me) Planet Earth.
Oh yes, and BTW, I told that story to Laura and David last night, after hearing their origin story. My story was “the short version,” however. The long version would include my visit to the goddess Sekhmet in a tiny temple to the side of Karnak, where I endured/encountered perhaps the most significant turning point in my, even then, long life.