Fall from Grace: Diary of a Previously Unemployed Knife Thrower

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Image: Eve, John Collier, Wikiart

Saturday 5 August 2017

The look on Eve’s face is telling, or is that the artist projecting his own notions of shame against the Mother of all? Let’s face it, She was set up. There was a power struggle going on, the male priesthood and establishment need a scapegoat and she fitted the bill. Compared to the divine ancestor my situation is a mere gnat bite on the body of humanity. Okay, a slip of the hand and my assistant, the little anaemic sop… Let me correct that, he was anaemic by the time they took him into the ambulance. Accidents happen at work, why on earth they had to involve the Health & Safety people I don’t know. It’s an occupational hazard for anyone involved in the business. To be fair his threat of a lawsuit forced their hand.

Talking of accidents, that no-good, con artist of an agent got her comeuppance today. The zombies she was representing finally had enough of being ripped off and demanded a pound of flesh. In fact they got several pounds of the stuff, the police had a problem identifying her. Justice has been served with a bottle of Rioja!

Sunday 6 August 2017

Still can’t get that image of Eve out of my head. When I knew her She was like a star of the brightest light. Why did it go wrong? Humanity wasn’t meant to be mired in darkness and ignorance. As for the lie about using one of Adam’s ribs to create a companion, well, it leaves you a little speechless. Does that mean that if she was injured or happened to become existentially challenged. Wait, what do I mean? Anyway, if she died, would he die as well? To be honest the heart of humanity suffered great a grievous wound when they wrote the various Books. Bad PR folks, look what they did to Lilith and Mary Magdalene. Shame, shame and shame. I’m ashamed to be a man. To be honest the women are just as bad, maybe even worse. Makes you wonder what kind of deity/Higher Being/Cosmic Conscious they believe in. I’m Freud would have plenty to say about that, he wouldn’t have minced his words. He was a straight talking guy when I knew him.

I’ve been six months in this temp job now, the people are just as dysfunctional as I am. Fit right in. Hard though being cheerful, not in my nature to be a ray of sunshine. It’s been a challenge keeping my tongue quiet, been sorely tempted at times to tell some of those people what I really think of them. Humans can be so, needy and malicious. At least your average chthonian or solar deity would display such negative traits with a bit more style and aplomb. Persephone warned me about cutting back on the bitchiness. Do I listen to her? Not always alas. I miss Eve and Lilith.

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Image: Lilith with a Snake, John Collier, Wikiart

Monday 7 August 2017

These thoughts about our lost Paradise are making me maudlin. Well, Paradise hasn’t been lost exactly. It’s just that humanity is on an attachment this material plane of manifestation for a while and will return to HQ when it’s been completed. Although I don’t think humanity quite understands the work that’s involved in working from the Divine Blueprint. That doesn’t apply to all the work experience people though, many actually get the concept of Free Will. I’m making it sound like a huge corporate nightmare, perish the thought! It’s more like a centre of learning/temple without walls or boundaries. That’s the best I can do. That reality is hard to describe, even though I’ve visited many times. The supervisors are numerous and often hard task masters, or that’s how it appears to human perception. I think humans know them as angels, archangels, etc. Just realised, I keep referring to ‘humans’. I’m, no, I used to be human. Not sure what I am now, not undead, not either living or even dead. It’s a strange existence, I straddle several worlds. Makes your thighs ache like mad! Heh, heh. I thought it was funny.

Tuesday 8 August 2017

Angels. Now that’s a subject I could go on about for hours but won’t in deference to them. They’ve been viewed variously as benevolent and sinister. Depends on which side of the divide you stand, the Abyss can be a nasty place to fall into. I’ve peered in and it isn’t somewhere you take the family for a night out. The ones known as the Fallen have been viewed with fear and more. There’s been so much misinformation bandied about them, some of it deliberate. The great ‘War in Heaven’…What was that about? Did we ever stop to think what was really going on there? Nothing, nothing, ever happens just by chance. Humanity has a destiny to fulfil but has managed to get side-tracked many times, not easy I suppose maintaining a balance between their twin natures. Hard having the both in one body can be problematic. Sandalphon ensures I get to hear all the latest news. We have a chat when it’s quiet and when I can bother to get out of ‘grumpy immortal git’ mode. I should open up to them a bit more but it’s centuries of conditioning I need to discard before reaching the inner, sensitive man.

Wednesday 9 August 2017

I’ve been getting to the urge to slap one of the team across the face with rotting fish. Swear I saw his eyes turn black momentarily and an aroma of sulphur follow him out of the room. He’s a wiry individual with a spiteful streak. He reminds me of one of the demons I came across when wandering the wasteland many years ago. Now that was the perfect place for some of the not so friendly Fallen. Gross material matter has a tendency to change things in unexpected ways. No laughing matter, I’ve seen the effects on so many that came through the planes of manifestation we know of, also the innumerable ones we don’t. Humans need to keep their boundaries more secure, by that I mean not allow any ‘walk ins’ to get a foothold. They allow fear to cause breaches in their protective shells, letting in things that are quite nasty.

Thursday 10 August 2017

This diary’s beginning to go places I don’t want to. Probably because of the hovel I’m currently inhabiting. The landlady advertised it as a ‘jewel of an apartment in a desirable central location’. It’s next to a recycling plant and built over a doorway into the infernal regions. Sounds funny written down but I’m not laughing. Even the cockroaches and silverfish had thrown in the towel and left en masse. They begged me to leave with them but I couldn’t afford anything better. Anyway, they left me a phone number of a good estate agent (think I just saw a pig fly past my window) just in case I changed my mind.

The landlady gives me the creeps and I spent several decades as assistant to a Necromancer in Tartarus. They were the worst years of employment imaginable. Something about her makes my skin crawl, although the plastic surgery has rectified that issue. I don’t look a day older than 670. My skin looks luminous (that might be the accidental exposure to radiation) and you can bounce a rubber ball off my toned posterior. Where was I? Yessssssssssss, my landlady. I’m not sure what else she does apart from instil a terrible feeling of dread in the soul. She’s never around during the day and as soon as twilight approaches her door creaks open to reveal…I can’t even write what she looks like because I can’t remember. Strange that. I have a theory about what she could be but uttering it aloud and even writing it down could cause a terrible tear in the fabric of the Universe. Sandalphon and even Mikael dropped hints about her true nature but I was rather preoccupied with other matters.

Friday 11 August 2017

I managed to corner Sandalphon and Mikael this morning. They were a little reticent about the matter. I think they were trying to be polite, kind even about my lack of awareness. They don’t view reality as humans do, and human emotions are quite alien to their kind but many have chosen to work with humanity. In order to help them achieve wholeness and evolve; to become divine beings once again and bring back knowledge of the material world to the Source and angelic hierarchy. Anyway, I digress. I was quite shocked at their revelation. Bad luck seems to follow me round like a hungry dog.

The house is built over part of the Abyss and the landlady is a ruler over one of its levels. I’m cursed, that’s the only explanation. Mikael gently commented that I was quite right about the curse. Coming from this archangel it is doubly wounding. Well, at least he’s on my side. I’ve upset many in my long and illustrious career, so it could be anyone. Mikael waited patiently for me to run through the suspects. Four hours and 42 cups of coffee later I remembered who it was, who cursed me that is. The ancient Egyptian serpent Apep. I recall trapping his tail in one of the gates in the Underworld. I wasn’t meant to be there at the time but wandered in through the wrong doorway. Set was about to spear Apep when I interrupted them. Well, you can imagine their annoyance. My brief sojourn in the Underworld didn’t go well. That Apep has one foul mouth on him! I need to get a hobby. Roll on the weekend…

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Disquiet

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Image: Pixabay

He wakens, sends forth visions of disquiet. No words are offered, only cobweb shrouded dreams.

Ancient battles rage, move through forests of memories.  They sear like a brand, Subdue with righteous anger. Punished are we children of the twilight, creatures forged in hunger and envy. 

Enchanter is he. Dragon, forged in fire, weaver of life. Seer and bringer of a Death unremitting. Guardian of treasures none but the illumined can see. That is, only through the gates of Void and Silence.

What is He? The words written on this scroll only serve to deepen the disquiet I’m feeling. I know very well what He is but hoped it would not be so. Creatures like him glide silently through the corridors of our dreams; bringing confused thoughts and unawakened desires. He tests us, touches the veils of awareness. Legends unfurl like the petals of night blooming Hellebore. I see his history and it is not a happy one. Continue reading

Icarus Reborn

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Image: Pixabay

Dying star, phoenix, what shall we call you? What will you respond to? You who dared to reach the unknowable. For the gods are not kind to those who seek to breach the boundaries placed on high. Humanity should know their place in this world, submit to rule and respect divine law. They are not our words but those of the lawgivers. How fare you Daedalus, witness to such a horror? The young know not what it is to listen to the voice of reason and wisdom. Yet, we feel your pain and sorrow. As such we shall grant regeneration and resurrection for the dying star.

How your face mirrors fear and shock! Dying star you have felt the breath of Helios and succumbed to a fate not wished willingly on anyone. Fire consumes and relents not, charring your wings of feather and paper.  The divinity within slumbers still, not fully awakened, gnosis not yet within grasp. Do not relinquish hope little god. The heavens wait for your ascent, but not before the soul is ready to grasp the wisdom that is awaits you within the wine dark sea.

Death is but the final gateway to Elysium, that much we can promise little god.

See how his eyes close now, finally without fear. He knows what is to come, to be enveloped in the arms of the great sea, mysterious, being both beginning and ending. The sky thunders so, heralding a mystery yet to unfold. Little god, little god, breathe, breathe, the release comes soon. He listens and then surrenders to a greater power. We cut the thread that holds life to fate. We weave the thread that holds life to its fate. It is done and it is beauteous beyond compare. See how his divinity flowers, flows through veins with  life blood. Breath returns, life renews, resurrection is at hand.

Knowing is at hand, glory unfolds before him like a veil of stars adorning the heavens. Ascend into life and the heavens winged one. For both heaven and earth shall rejoice at your emergence into life renewed.

The wine dark sea holds its breath and then offers up its prize. Upon gleaming wings of white, gold and ivory does the little god rise. Great Helios greets his child and adorns the skies with gold in celebration. We fade back into the realm between worlds, waiting.

Hidden Pathways

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(This version was published in Axis Mundi online magazine Issue 58 in 2014, the original version “Merlin” was published in 2006)

This story emerged from meditations undertaken many, many years ago. It was a strange time, the energies surrounding my life were a little challenging it has to be said! Such are the cycles of life and the Universe. He, I refer to Merlin of course, was a shadowy figure peering out from the depths of my subconscious. I was seeking answers. From the Old Ones, from the land, from ancient totems. I needed healing and the solution was to enter the magical landscape of Snowdonia, seeking the mage in his natural element. I also had in my possession the wonderful “The Druid Animal Oracle” and  “The Complete Merlin Tarot.”  Potent gateways into the Otherworld.

I was able to weave a fantastical tale from my meditations. The words flowed like a fast flowing stream, carrying me onwards into unknown territory. This story had been waiting a long time to emerge. Ancient Egyptian priestesses, dragons and the great Merlin himself. What more could I ask for? These are symbolic landscapes for those who like to view them as such. For others, well, we know different…

Shall we proceed through the doorway and into the waiting landscape?

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Come, Great Pan

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The short days and the gloom they bring during these winter months flattens the spirit a little. The heavens have seen fit to bathe us in torrents of water; I swear webbing has started to grow between my fingers and toes. Sigh. The damp is not conducive to my already creaky joints.  Complaining again I know. How the spirit longs for the warmth of sunshine and the heady scent of herbs teasing my nostrils. Ah, Arcadia! Found only memories and keepsakes now.

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Seers and Storytellers: Journey to Delphi

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My posts on this blog tend to be intermittent, admittedly due to procrastination and trying to earn a crust in the madness that is the working life. You could say my alter ego as a writer was a sanctuary, an activity that replenished my energies and spirit. Not much replenishing has occurred over the past few weeks though, just exhaustion of mind and body. Much time had been spent contemplating my navel and the only thing I’d found was fluff. Not a realisation a self-confessed, angst ridden writer likes to admit to, had my Muses abandoned me?

What’s been happening in the interior landscape then? Forgive me for baring a part of my soul, or Soul. For me the creative process involves a deep and intimate relationship with that mysterious country – the subconscious mind. It’s a place where I communicate with my Muses and seek counsel of the Old Gods of the Collective Unconscious. Bless you Dr Jung for revealing so much of the mystery that is the inner and outer Universes! No harm in a little dramatic flourish my lovelies. It seems I’ve reached a stage in life whereby another pruning was needed to allow the living tissue to flourish. Talking in riddles again. You get my meaning?…The dead wood isn’t going to waste though, it will provide fuel for the pot bellied stove that warms my Soul. Fire is a great transformative agent, in the alchemical process it heats, quickens and illuminates. Anyway, I digress.

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