SELECTED OBSERVATIONS Part One

'On the plain there stands a tree which tells a story that I cannot quite remember'.

The image of Adam and Eve in the garden of Eden is a familiar one, perhaps it is a little less well known that, within a number of mankind's spiritual philosophies and much of its folklore, the image of a tree has stood as , perhaps, the most powerful of descriptive symbols for more than 2000 years. Christianity holds to 'The Tree of Knowledge' and the Cross (the Golgotha tree), the Hebrew mystical teaching (the Kabbalah) , it's 'Tree of Life', Scandinavian folklore presents us with Ygdrassil, the great ash tree on which Odin hung, whilst Britain's Druids have long gathered around the great oaks of Britain to make their worship although, it is important to note, not to worship the trees themselves but what they represent.

A more perfect symbol both for the relationship between Earth and the Cosmos and also of the striving of the human soul, could not have been chosen. For,as various spiritual philosophies expound, it represents the belief that we are each born, rooted in the earth of our ancestral DNA but with spirit potential to reach upwards and, through hard work, joy, pain and, most of all, a maturing discrimination, acquire a 'trunk' of learning, a 'branch' of direction, 'leaves' of experience and, finally, 'blossoms' of soul wisdom.

In particular, the `Hebrew 'Tree of Life' with its journeying pathways and spheres of states of being, maps out such an adventure. In 1990 I had no knowledge of this image and yet, in the subsequent years I was to learn that one of the initial paths from the sphere of Malkuth at the root of this symbolic tree to its next sphere, Yesod, is known, amongst  its other titles as the pathway of Ceres (Demeter in Greek myth). She who was worshipped by the Romans as earth mother and goddess of harvest whose daughter, Persephone (Kore to the Greeks) was snatched by Pluto, , brother of Jupiter, and taken down into his Underworld to be his wife, leaving Ceres, grief-stricken and wandering the Earth in search of her daughter. Fascinating to reflect on the fact that, nine years, earlier, my own daughter Joanna, had died from cancer, leaving me also to mourn and wander whilst, at the same time, and completely unknown to myself, apparently stepping on to the 'Tree' and climbing the steep path that led from its root sphere to the sphere of images. Unknown, until that April afternoon in the Spring of 1990, when a British earthquake flung open a long-shut window in my mind and I began to see image and glimpsed a path stretching both behind and before me and, in that moment, recognised that there was something that I had to, absolutely had to, remember.

. . Destruction, destruction . . 

One of the known and curious facts that has been observed over the years regarding the phenomenon of intuitive reception, or channelling, is that, in the majority of cases, the first 'messages' a new channeller receives and interprets frequently take the form of, often dire, warnings relating to dangers that are threatening the Earth's future. The form of the spoken, or written expression of any such message is always entirely dependent upon the channeller's own interpretive capacity and personal leanings. It is clear that my own beginning fitted this same pattern and I hope to offer my own explanation for this pattern at some point later in my text.

. . There are circles within circles that must be crossed in a spiraling movement . . you are the converter, the force must pass through you into the ground . . this is the old way in the hills . . Your family is the guide . .

In the beginning are the oak and the hawthorn . . here we have worshipped with the backdrop of hills to guide us . . Gather round this place to make a communion with arms upraised and holding the branches . . 

Know only how to begin, as did your forefathers. . . On the hilltop I will wait where the dancers move. . 

You are the people of the faith, your task is to pray and make the journeys through the light of time . . The fathers have come home to their children and the mothers cry in the lonely place.

Here the words begin to adopt a fascinating identity. For, reading the whole sections from which the above quotes are taken, the picture that comes to mind is from an ancient British/Celtic Britain - a time of Druidic teaching and a nature-based spiritual and philosophical practice. 

How then was it that, as I typed the words 'On the hilltop I will wait where the dancers move', I instinctively knew that the dancers on the hilltop were the standing stones of the Rollrights - an ancient circle standing exactly on the border between south Warwickshire and north Oxfordshire?

 It is important to note that these 'Writings'  do not flow together as a whole. With increasing hindsight I began to realise that every phrase in every paragraph of these communications forms the shape of a single piece of a broken-up jigsaw puzzle. I very soon realised that that there was not just one jigsaw puzzle hidden amongst these words waiting for my brain to make whole - but many!

It is also apparent that these words are not only emerging from me but they are also summoning me to act - to take-up some kind of responsibility. Appearing, as they do, to infer not only that I understand what they are speaking about but that I have, in some way acquired such knowledge from my ancestors.

I have been able to pull out, amongst others, the following four identifiable forms from these first puzzle pieces:

1.   Druidism..

Druids taught, of the power of the sun. the moon and the planets to influence human life, landscape and nature; in the energetic oneness of the whole of existence and the transmigration (reincarnation) of the soul. Many of their teachings, (in common with those of other ancient eastern mystery schools) were given form in the ritual and ceremonies that presided over. These open-air, circular-form ceremonies were held on particular sites which the Druid priests either identified within natural landscape forms or, had, themselves, designated and marked as sacred and were held at specific times of cosmic activity e.g. Full and New moons and Solar and Lunar eclipses.

2. Mithraism

Mithraism is a cult which many believe has its roots in Zoroastrianism - itself an early

Persian sect. For a period, chiefly during the time of the Roman occupation of Britain, 

Mithraism and Christianity co-existed  and shared a remarkable number of correspondences. For Mithraic beliefs propound that the god, Mithra, was born of a

virgin mother on 25 December and, on his death,  ascended into heaven, with the

promise that he would one day return and bring eternal life to his followers.

Mithraism was widely practiced amongst the Roman Legions  ( the remains of three 

Roman Mithraic temples can still be seen on Hadrian's Wall. Most importantly, in the context of these 'Writings'  and the quote, 'The fathers have come home to their children' the priests of Mithra were known as 'Fathers' and their followers as 'Children'.

As for ' . and the mothers cry in the lonely place' these words seem not only to relate to the myth of Ceres/Demeter but also to another cult absorbed by the Legions. That of the Turkish Cybele. worshipped as the mother of the god, Attis, who occasioned his mother's anger, castrated himself as a penance, and, as a result, died. Cybele wept copiously for her dead child but was subsequently enabled to resurrect him. She was known to the Greeks as 'Mountain Mother'' and artifacts of her cult have also been found on Hadrian's Wall.

3. Personal Ancestry

It is important to note that I was born into an old Warwickshire family of proven longevity in the county. My maternal and paternal grandmothers were first cousins and

the shared family line that I carry has been rooted within a five mile circle of central Warwickshire land for, at least, 800 years. Warwickshire, the county which has at its heart and spread below the north facing escarpment of the Edge Hills, the valley that has

been known for centuries as the Vale of the Red Horse. ('. .with the Red Horse to guide us')

A maternal great-grandmother's ancestors all worked the land in the county's south-west

corner where it borders Worcestershire and lies adjacent to the Roman Rycknield (or Buckle) Street. Only recently, I have learned that my other maternal great-

grandmother's ancestors originated in a north Cotswold village, which sits exactly on the 

border between Warwickshire and Oxfordshire and is within sight of the Rollright Stones.

Whilst her maternal ancestry has its roots a little further south, amazingly, again at a

spot adjacent to Rycknield Street, this time where it joins the Fosse Way.

(Intriguingly, my mother, her mother and her mother's father all had splendid `Roman'

noses!)

My channelling ability emerged at the exact moment of a British earthquake, the effect of which  was to cause me a physical jolt, which was immediately followed by a sensation of heat and irritation in my right brain-lobe (..You are the people of the memory . .) I felt mentally confused but, at the same time, also became certain that 'Someone' was trying to tell me 'Something'. I began typing and, perhaps also, to remember.

Hypotheses:

a) That the earthquake triggered a particular energy wave that I am genetically sensitive

to,

b) that I hold this particular resonance in common with that of my ancestral land and, once

re-awoken to it, could access the memories, it, itself, held within some universal energy

field,

c) that the earthquake impulse also triggered the awakening of my own genetic memory. 

giving me access to my ancestors archetypal thought patterns and pictures which are

locked somewhere within this same Universal Unconscious.

d) that, in particular, I accessed the DNA memory of my earliest ancestors who, in their 

own lifetimes had acknowledged some integral relationship with their earth and

which they had honoured both in, apparently, essential ceremony but also in the names/

sounds/resonances they had given to the cosmic and nature forces they knew as the gods.

e) that in a time of increasing climatic change, some force, perhaps the Earth itself, 

was triggering within me, not only deep memory but also the recognition of the family

skills and responsibility such knowledge demanded.

(NB. Due to personal circumstances my nest Blog will appear in two weeks time)

   

  

Ancestral Voices contd

Come now into the open air with arms outstretched (for) now are the days when all will be revealed and the scythe will cut through the corn. Here me speak,  I come in the wind and where the rain falls the poppies will stretch in sheets. This is the Motherland where our race has flourished and the lines of battle are gathered. Men stand in the fields like corn stooks and the life is draining from them. the sunlight is fading and the rains and the storms will come . .

The Light is spreading across the land . . . The world is changing and the north will become south and the east, west - so it has been commanded since the beginning of all time. We shall be replaced by the new gods but our time has not yet come and all must be left undisturbed by the new Masters. She is one who has power and will use it to form the Earth in a different way. It will happen as the leaves fall from the trees and the water winds through the valley.

Know that the wind will carry me to the halls of my ancestors and the beginning of all things . .

In the stable the horses chafe at their bits, for the ride will soon begin. Their hoofprints will once again be heard in the land. . 

I alone have the power to touch your mind and you only must remember, for the day will be ours as it was in the foretime . . Loose my hand, the darkness is behind me and I must return through the gate. Soon I will be known to all men and this work will be done. Until then you must write what I command and you know, for the people must read it all.

. . . 

Across the hills the light can be seen from a distance. I hold it in my hands and the moonlight enfolds the lands of our ancestors.

There is much to be done and I must speak through you to the people who know of the 'Word'. There is a darkness that will come in a lifetime and will spread over all things. The light will be dimmed  but you have the power to preserve the fruits of the Earth. Beneath the ash are the holy ones who must be revived to do our work . . I alone can communicate with you in this way and my steed is eager to start the journey.

There is a blight across the land and the Earth is dying without the prayers. You are the people of the memory who know the old ways. Come again to the groves with those of your fellows who can believe in us,  we need all - there are so few left and the work must be done. In the beginning we knew the shape of things to come but much has been changed and man has worked his magic in the wrong way.

I am without a name but am only the voice that commands you to undertake these deeds. The woman comes but the air is full of sighing and so much has stripped into tatters across our land. The old ways are reviled and the men with forked tongues seek only wealth and have no thought for the generations that are to come. We must protect their right and the sword must flash again across the kingdom.

There will be a time of trouble for all people and the minds of men must be changed and set upon the right path . . Tomorrow will be a day for rejoicing for the time is at hand when we shall show our strength to the world. We shall come in the thunder and the wind will blow across the land. The sea will rise as there is much to be cleansed and all men must turn again to their true gods. Each knows his line and the names he must worship if the world is to be saved. We have spoken together many times and in many places and know that the corn only grows when the land is good, There has been a bitter harvest and the time of reckoning must come before we can fade into the Light and return to our fathers. You have the power that was given you long ago and in your finger is the record of our line. Go back to the beginnings so that our cloaks may protect the land. We are the Great Ones and know all things. You, too, know much and must record it in this way. I will open the door to your memory and the words of your fathers will cross into the air. . .

Write now the words that I send and tell the people (who) I will offer to you. For the word must begin to spread across the land before the floods come and the people perish. There will be life and there will be a new heart, Nothing can stop this, it is in the order of things which has been preordained. It is our task to protect, warn and save what is ours . . We have been and will be again after the silence and the crying has died away. There was enough but men have not thought or believed and the end of their waste must come. Believe in our strength and all will be well. You are safe from the demons and the giants have long left this kingdom. They were of another time and now our time too has come and we shall depart (when) our work is complete.

(An objective analysis of this material will foll0w shortly, please keep reading.  Avril) 

'Writings'

On 2 April 1990 the 'Writings' began with an affirmation. Now, at this second beginning, I repeat them again.

Only good will come from the written word that I write here.

Part One

ANCESTRAL VOICES

The spirit of trees and the green earth surrounds me (and) on the plain the single tree tells a story that I cannot quite remember. The sounds of men and horses survive in the echo of the past - all these voices are there to be heard. They come in silence, filling the valley with the strength of their numbers.

There has been bloodshed but also the mystery of words kept inside great books in the care of hooded men, the words are to be unravelled (and) the story told. There is a fear of destruction, a secret somewhere that holds together this place. Here there was quiet, now it is trampled upon. Somewhere there is a light which must continue to shine - destruction, destruction!

Hold fast to the truth that walks the Way, follow the paths that lead to the hills, wash in the water over the stones - turn them until the sound is made. There will be power to guide the feet along the tracks. Beacons make a line for it is the looking down on creation that will preserve all things. I am the Way, the truth and the Light - follow that light, touch as you pass. Look for the ripples, they must be counted. There the feet have made marks and the energy lives - it can be stroked. Look into the sun with closed eyes, let the tree branches carry the light in different directions - this is the old way in the hills. The rocks remember where the fires have burned (and) the men must walk again if all is to be saved. Follow the path, the energy must flow again

. . .

Walk always to the left - there are circles within circles that must be crossed in a spiraling movement (and) hold hands in the face of the sun (looking) upwards into the beam of light. You are the converter, the force must pass through you into the ground. Speak in whispers as the leaves on the trees and sing the songs you have known since the Youthtime. Move sideways in line until the tops of the trees are lit by the light, then all will be well. There is enough power if it is found now, all must be unblocked  in a great circle.

Where the lion sits are the halls of judgement, on the back of the bear are the doors to the chamber wherein lies the secret that will make all things whole. . 

I am the Way, the Truth and the Light, (and) by this will you know me, that the doors will stand open when you have commanded. Work in circles (for) there is no other way and I am testament to this. Cloak everything with fire and burn it on the hilltops so that the shadows fall across the land. Here I guard, it must be begun if all is to be saved.

Do not doubt, across the valley the river runs to the high places. The faith be with you, your family is the guide. Go into the hills, there you will be reminded of all that has gone before and it will be done. Green is the colour . .

. . .

In the beginning are the oak and the hawthorn. They stand side by side at the edge of the water. Here there are also patterns that reflect the sunlight. Here we have worshipped with the backdrop of hills to guide us. Gather round this place to make a communion with arms upraised and holding the branches. The moon and the stars shed enough light but it is in the sunlight that the messages will come - wait for them at the moment of dawn. All (of)  these have different purposes but now we must call up the light before it flows into the river.

Hold my hand, I am the Great One who comes in the thunder. Here I am not alone but stand with my brothers the wind and the rain. You have forgotten me and the time for the cyclone has arrived - even the stones in the streams are rattling to my sound. Know only how to begin, as did your forefathers, and I will speak with you from out of the sunset, you will hear my voice when the promise is ready. Then you must join hands and look up to the sky, for the promise is ready. So I have commanded and it will happen.

Begin the journey, walk in line as it has been shown to you. On the hilltop I will wait where the dancers move (then) look back over the valley to see the signs that I have marked for you.

It is time for the people to gather. It has been too long since the prayers were spoken and the river flowed. Be not afraid (for) the ears are on the corn as it has been promised and they will come again after the light has dimmed. Rest in the soul of my land and the pulse will be strong. So I have spoken and the time will not wait for silence. When you speak I will come and show you the way. Thus it is written, there is no other way.

Hold fast against the demons, their time to advance has come and they must be stopped with  a great wind. Say the words in your hearts where the Spirit moves and it will be done.

I am the Beginning and must face the End with my cloak flying. From this we are born and the prayers sustain us as we journey. Hold fast, I am without and will know my name when it is found by the red horse.

This is my land and it will not be destroyed!

Sorrows are for healing at the place of the Moon and the sword will enter the Kingdom of the Brigantes.

You are the people of the faith, your task is to pray and to make the journeys through the light of time. Call me, I am waiting. Time is in the flight of birds and the days' ends. The fathers have come home to the children and the mothers cry in the lonely place. All must be ended before

the light can be renewed. Hold hands, begin the march or it will be finished in our time and

cannot be renewed. We must be re-born if the grass is to grow and the flowers bloom.