I am finding it hard to get back into the energies of place. My spirit is still roaming the West Coast of the US. I am awake and sleeping at the 'wrong' hours and my 'being' is still processing my experiences. This the last full moon of the decade, taken on the 12th day of the 12th month. In the High Sierra Mountains. The Cold Moon. A portal moon. It was captured whilst bathed in 104°F of warm swirling waters, of an outdoor Jacuzzi, surrounded by snow during ritual space, to the sounds of the surrounding forest. By Lake Tahoe. Pure Peace.
I asked 'Them Upstairs' what came next? Flooded with a torrent of Joy, and the Spirit and Egrigore of Place, images of thousands of seeds being planted in fertile and lush fields all over the Earth flashed into my vision. It was thus the moment when I took another quantum leap into that deep place of Oneness, our human ability to feel that Divine connection with all that exists, and the Knowing of all that we might create together when we feel united in that place. Aho. Alongside the Glastonbury Unity Candle, I look forward, in my Crone Years, to planting more seeds in lush and fertile ground over this upcoming new decade, my 70th one on this planet. I look forward to sharing our oneness, our connectedness, so that we might allow our global community to be further strengthened and grow in love, understanding, and inclusivity. My hope is that this might go some way towards aiding us to find the strength to face the challenge of our dying global conditions, and the polarisation of our ideologies...together. Fancy helping me? I can’t do this alone. (The next photo is of me connecting with the great Cedar, as my last ceremony, by the waters of The Great Spirit Lake known as Tahoe and thanking the Spirit and Ancestors of Place.)
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27th November 2019 I landed in San Francisco yesterday. Highlights of the journey? Flying over Greenland. Having a bulkhead seat by the window. Peaceful. I rather feel I'd have jumped out of the plane somewhere over Aberdeen had I been sat with my fellow travellers. Homeland Security. "Anything to declare?". "Fork handles" "Fork handles?" "Yes, four Glastonbury Unity Candles". It had to be done didn't it? The bored look on his face melted away when I answered his questions about them. Seeing Diana and Robert. Hugging Diana and Robert. Then hugging them again. Taking the rain with me. They haven't had rain for 6 months. It's poured down. 28th November 2019 Wonderful Thanksgiving dinner with beautiful people who welcomed me into their family and their gloriously creative space overlooking Panhandle Park SF. The Panhandle forms the southern boundary of the Western Addition neighborhood and the northern boundary of the Haight-Ashbury. Now I am flaked on my bed in a hotel room, listening to a Mexican playlist, through open window, from a party in the next building. Tomorrow, my first day at the Dickens Fair. Happy Thanksgiving. My first one...I hope more will follow. 30th November 2019 I seem to be getting the hang of speaking the language on these forrin shores. I have to say though, it’s freakin’ cold in California. Rain, gales and tomorrow, thunderstorms. Everyone is suggesting I brought it with me. Record lows apparently. Day 2 of The Dickens Fair has been thoroughly enjoyed . It’s a mammoth production with a huge and adept cast. More later. 1st December 2019 Tales are aplenty but our 3rd day has been an exhausting one and so I have found places backstage to make a nest to rest and observe from. Behind the scenes delights, wonders and politics have kept me highly entertained. Folks are very friendly, curious and chatty. Tonght we checked into the historic Stanyon Park Hotel directly opposite Golden Gate Park. Haight-Ashbury is just two blocks away. I shall be exploring what remains of the 1967 Summer of Love with excitement tomorrow. Dinner was in Cha Cha Cha - a boisterous eatery with Santeria shrines watching over us as we ate. 2nd December 2019 It's still raining. Today, a great little 24% ABV beer known as Thunderpussy and brewed in the basement, was enjoyed in Magnolia's, on Haight Street. Our venue played an important role in the birth of the Haight Ashbury hippie movement in 1964 as the Drugstore Cafe, one of the original hippie hangouts in the neighbourhood. In the late 60s it became the famous Magnolia Thunderpussy's named for its proprietress, a larger than life San Francisco legend still talked about today. A short stroll up a few doors took me to Pipe Dreams, the first smoke shop established in 1968. A linger outside, ostensibly window-gazing, nicely added to the the effects of a 24% beer. My gracious and knowledgeable hosts, who lived right in the heart of this area for many a year, one of them born here, then proceeded to drive me up and down hill, down and up hill, then up and down again...through delightful and hilly residential areas, with fabulously creative architecture, pointing out places with fascinating narratives, until we arrived at the summit of Twin Peaks. Oh my...what a captivating view over a city I am already growing to be deeply fond of and how blessed am I to be with a knowledgeable San Franciscans to explain so much to me? On our happy return to the hotel, the concierge greeted us with an invitation to partake of the manager's complimentary wine and cheese hour. "How spiffing", said I in my best Yorkshire accent, and headed off into the dining room with my companions. A grand and chilled day after a frenetic 3-day Thanksgiving weekend at Dickens. POSTCARDS FROM AMERICA (2)
I have forever been drawn to the desert. The shifting colours uncluttered with the trappings of life. The Berbers call themselves "Imazighen", meaning the free. Whilst in Marrakech recently, I crossed the High Atlas mountains to visit the Ksar of Ait-Ben-Haddou, a place that acts as a gateway to the Sahara desert. Made up of a group of earthen buildings surrounded by high walls, a 4000 year old Berber culture continues here as it ever was. Salt, a precious commodity worth more than gold was once protected in the high tower on the summit. This was my Glastonbury Tor in the desert. A hill, a tower on the highest part, presenting a gateway to another world.
I had a guide on this part of my journey. It wasn't easy to get him to drop the mask that had become his profession, showing tourists from other cultures around his home and his tribe. A man with four sisters and five brothers, he had been born in this place to parents who did not have enough wealth to send all their children to school, so he, from being a small child, had been offering his culture to tourists and pilgrims. His manner was softer with me. He knew I was on a journey and encouraged me by explaining the different stages on the climb and suggested I could stop at any one of them if I so wished. During his lifetime of crossing the river and climbing the ksar, he had learned to speak six languages fluently. Whilst he spoke, his mask dropped a little and I saw the proud, strong man with sadness in his soul. He was a warrior, and whilst this place and the sociocultural dynamics of its people are protected by UNESCO, I did not see a man of a free tribe. I caught this image and was struck by the connection between the boy and his horse. I also saw a deep sadness eliciting a profound beauty filled with arcane secrets. Stood in the dried bed of the Oued Sous, the River of Salt, under the blazing sun for thirty minutes, about to climb a high castle, my guide told me the Berbers were happy to help 'disabled' people get to the summit. I declined, knowing this part of my journey needed to be done without assistance. "The desert shatters the soul's arrogance and leaves body and soul crying out in thirst and hunger. In the desert we trust God or die", counsels Dr. Dan Allender, the pioneer of a unique and innovative approach to trauma and abuse therapy...and so I trusted. No horse. Just me. Carrying a rock from the river bed. But oh, what a picture I take with me of the horse, and the people, that would have borne me to my goal. It might be mooted that God sent me the horse to ride upon, however, deep in my spirit, I knew that part of my experience was also the physical test. Perhaps it was I that was examining myself, perhaps it was a spiritual warriors test...who knows. It felt damn good, regardless. |
My experiences are as yours - filled with challenges, pain, joy, laughter and love.
The settings of our scenes might be different but along our journey together, we will discover similarities and shared experiences. Adventure with me for a while, for it is in the Journey, we become One. PostsHigh Sierra Winter Solstice
Postcards from America (1) Award Winning! God's Own Country An Avalonian Anniversary ..'And did those feet?' Glastonbury/Avalon of the Heart Finding Colour in the Grey Pentagrams Galore! Lessons from Morocco Under African Skies The Earth Mother Mystic Gardens The Glastonbury Unity Candle goes to Knight's Enham Categories
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