I’m sitting at my kitchen table again looking out at the sun bathed garden. The best seat in the house folks. It’s been nearly a week since I took to my sick-bed with a particularly stubborn cold. The kind that leaves you feeling like a zombie crossed with Stig of the Dump. Not a pretty sight. Not totally recovered but at least I feel ready to face the world again due in part to the desire to write, write and write. The words were waiting to be released and they were, in a torrent. The torrent also washed a way a lot that was redundant. I feel a longish ramble coming on and can’t possibly deny the urge to let it take its course. The White Rabbit made his appearance on a couple of occasions as did the spirit of His Nibs. The result being the birth of two new blogs. Hurrah! It means I’ll need to ensure my notes are legible and meet all standards of decency. Also avoid getting the posts mixed up. Illness focusses the mind keenly towards the inner. If you’re immobile and in a weakened state there is nowhere else to go but where the spirit leads. In my case I’m not sure where I’m being lead, not yet anyway. It appears there are secrets yet to be revealed.
I can of course ask the White Rabbit for assistance but he’s rather busy navigating the labyrinth at the heart of the rabbit hole. Not in the mood to go down there again. Now back to the issue of secrets. What type of secret am I referring to? The process of inner alchemy the aspirant on the road to enlightenment is hoping for, as well as the significance of Fire in the transformation. For it seems that the winds of radical change bring with them a searing heat and devastation into our lives. Fire is considered as an ‘agent of transmutation’ by alchemists. It is a expression of spiritual energy and a force that purifies and destroys all that is redundant. I’ve felt the hand of change on my shoulder and refused to acknowledge its presence, until now. From the time my journey started as Sir Gareth in the Foliate Man a few weeks ago, I had a feeling big changes were coming my way. The Green Man watched from the pool within the enchanted forest, therein lay my downfall. Not in any negative sense you have to understand. Change isn’t always welcomed with open arms and often viewed with suspicion and perhaps a little hostility. Much like the Great God Set has been for millenia. Much like the secretive alchemist in their laboratory and darkened study. Much like anyone who doesn’t follow the masses and refuses to shoehorn themselves into a mould. Dare we consider ourselves heretics? Does such an individual exist in these ‘enlightened times’?
What’s initiated this navel gazing I ask myself. Impatience to move forward on both the spiritual and mundane planes. A need to reconnect with the world at large and nature. A need for reintegration and regeneration. A need to reconnect with the Great Work. Seems a lot to take on. Apart from sleeping and possibly snoring I watched the birds flit in and out of the garden. One variety caught my eye, the Blackbird. Not sure if it was the same one but he’s been a constant presence over several weeks. The Black Druid and blacksmith, sacred bird of the goddess Rhiannon. Privy to and conveyor of secrets and knowledge from the Otherworld. Whose song can put the listener into a trance. As for the goddess, her associations are with fertility, the moon, night and death. Intriguing. The wheels are turning in my mind. Certain secrets are not meant to be revealed lest their power is diminished. Funny, I wrote a post about this but ended up losing it in the vastness of the digital landscape. The post went live but with no content. It got deleted and started again here. The pieces of the puzzle are before me, just need to use my eyes and ears to receive the wisdom. It appears at the moment I have the eyes but not to see, I have the ears but not to hear. How so? The blindfold has to be taken off sooner or later.