The Peace Of Wild Things: An Encounter In Thetford Forest

20191013 THE PEACE OF WILD THINGS AN ENCOUNTER THETFORD FOREST

I’m in the depths of Thetford Forest. Some distance behind me is the hustle and bustle of a myriad of people near the visitors centre, using the café, experiencing zip lining or bbq’ing. But for those willing to venture away from the ‘near wild’, the voices in the forest call out.

 ’Trees are sanctuaries. Whoever knows how to speak to them, whoever knows how to listen to them, can learn the truth… they preach… the ancient law of life’

As I pick my way through the damp forest – yes, although the rain is light it has been, and still is relentless – I am surrounded by wonderfully tall, sky-hugging lowland pine trees, some less than two feet apart from its neighbours. The sun is still high in the sky, but it’s shrouded by the trees, and so I’m walking in a twilight state, and so am being careful with face-high branches and twigs as I weave left and right.

The going isn’t that easy. The mud sucks ones boots down and makes walking laborious, and moss, like a green carpet, underfoot and dead, wet leaves give an alternative challenge, that of accelerated locomotion just when you didn’t expect it. Sometimes, my ambling though dense forest alternates between ‘clod-hopping’ and sliding all over the place. Not a pretty sight, but I wouldn’t swap it for the world.

A tree says: A kernel is hidden in me, a spark, a thought. I am life from eternal life’

The forest is alive. Even in mid-October animals scurry this way and that in the undergrowth, birds fly overhead, and there’s that wonderful pine, tree, somewhat dank undergrowth smell that is fascinating, distinctive and refreshing. I can’t resist but to frequently, look around, inhale deeply, and find some excuse to sit on a fallen tree. Yes, I know it’s wet, but I’m ‘armed’ and wearing a waterproof kagoule and waterproof trousers. It’s bliss. There is no such thing as bad weather: just inappropriate clothing.

And there, standing in the distance, obscured by undergrowth until I move closer, is Venus. The artist will tell you that this is a human-height sculpture placed in the forest to show off the skills of human ingenuity. The ecologist would encourage you to note the sculptures  ‘skin’ of forest colours, to denote life, and in this case to promote the idea of nature-appreciation, reforestation and more. But there’s more.

The forest is alive. And just as a bird might make a nest, a beaver make a dam, and a Fox make a lair, and  we would call it natural, so too, these sculptures evoke a deep spirituality that is, perhaps, natural for humankind. And so, it is fantastic to see the first sculpture of about ten.

It is almost as if the forest is pressing in to get a closer look at what humankind has done here, and it is a acceptable. Surrounded by elementals, dryads, some would say forest angels, there is a presence here, in the forest. And this sculpture ‘fits in’ perfectly.

 ‘A longing to wander tears  my heart when I hears trees rustling in the wind…’

And so I move on, exploring the forest. Something like a bright orange light, just for a split-second catches my attention to the right. I turn my head in that direction,  look intently, but… nothing. Nothing but dense trees and fern. A trick of the light? A reflection on the side of my glasses? Or the beckoning of a Guardian of the Forest? Whatever it was, it has got my interest and I move in that direction.

Ten minutes later I’m still walking and there in front of me are two more sculptures: David and Daphne.

‘When we are stricken and cannot bear our lives any longer, then a tree has something to say to us: Be still! Be still! Look at me…Let God speak within you, and your thoughts will grow silent’

The two magnificent sculpture: David (as in, David and Goliath), and Daphne (who, and those who remember their Greek mythology will know, was turned into a Laurel tree, but Apollo made the tree into an evergreen tree thus conferring immortality upon her.

I sit here,  mesmerised at the two sculptures. Two thoughts  in my mind: David faced his monster and prevailed. Daphne succumbed and gave her life, and yet even then became immortal. Who says the forest cannot teach us anything? I may not have heard an audible voice as I sat on a wet log, but I do believe an elemental, a dryad, a fay, or an angel whispered into my  ears words too deep to hear as sound, but penetrating deep within the labyrinthine ‘corridors’ of the brain, where mind, body and spirit meld. Of course, you would expect me to say that: I’m an animist.

I spent another couple of hours moving through the dense undergrowth and tall trees, and encountered all the sculptures carefully placed throughout the forest, some ‘hidden’ so that only the most adventurous would find them, and reap the reward of encountering these Guardians of the Forest. As above, so below.

And then I headed back to the visitors centre, still with the hustle and bustle of many people enjoying the fruits and pleasures of ‘near wild’. I’m now sitting at a picnic table and am gazing back the way I had walked. Two hundred feet away from me, the ‘manicured’ grass gives way to the dense trees and I look on longingly, and yet I’m completely happy and satisfied. Green joy unbounded. It was a wonderful experience – to forest-bathe, to amble in dense woodland, and to encounter sculptures that evoke the deep spiritual centres within, and to meet…. well, to have met forest entities, known and unknown.

’Whoever has learned to listen to trees no longer wants to be a tree. He wants to be nothing except what he is. That is home. That is happiness’.

 

(All indented quotes above are by Herman Hesse, and from his book Baume: Betrachtungen Und Gedichte)

Ancestral Thoughts At Llynau Mymbyr: Alternative Perception

20190808 ANCETRAL THOUGHTS AT LLYNNAU MYMBYR ALTERNATIVE PERCEPTION

Not far from Capel Curig in north Wales is the twin lakes of Llynnau Mymbyr (see this article’s header photo). It is a delightful area, full of myth and magic, legend and the feel of a ‘thin place’ about it. It exudes an energy that is both comforting and unnerving, it is an area where you can believe almost anything can happen. That expectancy flows though the very air like the ozone that one senses as a storm approaches.

As a child I used to frequent this area often – wonderful lakes, surrounded by tantalising (lake) beaches (albeit on the small side, but with intriguing rock pools, odd-shaped rocks and small pebbles of curious colours and shapes). And, I’m in that place again. It’s a sunny day, and a few clouds are sprinkled high above me.

Now, as I sit on a log with the water almost lapping at my feet, the view is a wonderful blend of grey-green, of slate rocks and mountains, and fern and lichen. In the very distance (in the photograph’s centre) is Yr Wyddfa, Snowdon, again, full of myth and magic, and though distant it dominates this area by is sheer presence.

The sun and clouds are reflected in the lake’s water, too,  and my thoughts drift. In what ways would those who went before us, our ancestors, think of this place: the pebbles on the lake’s beach, the few high clouds drifting by that I can see, and the sun shining down on me?

We often take if for granted that we know what they thought, and though we might get glimpses, I wonder if we can make that mental adjustment to ‘go back’ a thousand or two years and move about ‘in their shoes’. As a wee lad I used to love the Robin Hood tv series. Robin’s outfit was always clean and well pressed, and maid Marion’s hair was never out of place. I loved the series then, but in looking back now, ofcourse I know Robin Hood’s tunic would be muddy, smelly and probably patched. Maid Marion’s hair would have been devoid of conditioner (that hadn’t been ‘invented’), and if she lived in the forest she might have been missing a few teeth, and so not worry about ragged, dry, dishevelled hair. Apologies for being so graphic.

But we do get glimpses.

Our early ancestors may have had less knowledge of the way the world worked, but they had a greater and deeper appreciation of nature, and earthy wisdom.

With a notebook and pen in hand to take notes in wilderness areas – I don’t use computers in the field – my thoughts are drifting about: How would our ancestors have seen this environment or the world differently to us?

I do believe they would have had a deep(er) understanding of connectedness. As I look around my environment at Llyn Mymbyr I know that I am connected – but is it only a ‘cerebral’ understanding rather than a holistic one? How do I immerse myself in that belief? Or is it a case that understanding it then means I need only ‘surrender’ to that thought to imbibe its wisdom? Wise words about connectedness flow though my mind, words that I read some time ago:

‘Interbeing: If you are a poet, you will see clearly that there is a cloud floating in this sheet of paper. Without a cloud, there will be no rain; without rain, the trees cannot grow; and without trees, we cannot make paper. The cloud is essential for the paper to exist. If the cloud is not here, the sheet of paper cannot be here either. So we can say that the cloud and the paper inter-are. “Interbeing” is a word that is not in the dictionary yet, but if we combine the prefix “inter-” with the verb “to be,” we have a new verb, inter-be. Without a cloud and the sheet of paper inter-are. [And,] If we look into this sheet of paper even more deeply, we can see the sunshine in it. If the sunshine is not there, the forest cannot grow….”. (Thich Nhat Hanh)

Yes, we are all connected, ‘inter-are’, but not just with each other now; and in opening up ourselves to less limited thinking, we come to know that we are connected in deeper ways through space and time, and not only to humankind but to the rest of creation. Even the cloud above, we know now,  has an effect far more reaching than we might have realised than when this article began.

I’m still sitting on that log, and gaze at a pebble, just under the water, that has caught my eye. Did you know that this whole area is part of what is known as the Capel Curig Volcanic Formation? If you read the science books it will explain this means that the area comprises some 1400 yards thickness of compacted ash that erupted some four million years ago. This resulted in rhyolites (and igneous, volcanic rock which  rich in silica and sometimes have a glassy texture and appearance). I’m gazing at such a pebble. What an ‘ancestry’ for a small pebble about the size of a kidney bean.

I can’t resist it. I admit it – I’m a ‘feely-feely’ person. If I see an interesting tree, I not only want to look at it, but want to run my fingers over its bark. If there’s a market medieval cross in an ancient English village or a standing-stone in the middle of an expanse, I not only want to take a photograph but also want to touch it. Who knows what that tree has ‘seen’? Who else might have touched that ancient market cross or standing-stone and thought of future generations, like me, who might touch it. There’s connectedness right there!

And, so I pick up the pebble, and another thought flows through my mind, of something that I had read about some time ago. And it’s this:

‘A man, walking on a beach, reaches down and picks up a pebble. Looking at the small stone in his hand, he feels  very powerful and thinks of how with one stroke he has taken control of the stone. ‘How many years have you been here, and now I place you in my hand”. The pebble speaks to him, ‘Though to you, I am only a grain of sand in your hand, you, to me, are but a passing breeze [in comparison]’. Martin Lowenthal and Lar Short, Opening In The Heart of Compassion’.

This small pebble had also ‘spoken’ to me. We are each connected; the same, yet different; but we all ‘inter-are’. But, the story makes us think. We do get glimpses of a different and deeper perception of nature, the universe and our place in it, but there is always more. I placed the pebble back from where I had removed it. And sat there, and wondered.

In thinking of this article, I thought: what about where you are right now? What might someone have done and thought in your location a thousand years ago, what was their view of the universe, and in what way are you connected to them? Some would say that you are separated from them by time and space, but are you? I don’t believe so. We are all connected, but we think we’re not. And the latter is, in my humble opinion, error. We are far more connected than we release – just like paper and the cloud. There is always more to discover.

And, as I stood up, ‘dusted’ myself down, slowly strode back towards the car, another thought came to me:

‘Truly I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me.’ Matthew 25:40b, The Book

I laughed out loud. Fortunately, no one was about – well no visible entities, at least. In thinking of connectedness and seeing things differently, and with that verse from ancient text flowing through my mind, a word formed deep within me: theosis. But, that awesome theme is for a future article.

 

[The article’s header photograph, cropped and overlaid with text is copyrighted by David Gill, and is used with permission: see here.]

What Are You Missing? Looking Beyond: Physical Metaphors

20190802 WHAT ARE YOU MISSING LOOKING BEYOND PHYSICAL METAPHORS

Take a look around you. What do you see? What do you really see? What is seen that is actually ‘pointing’ to that which is unseen and beyond? Puzzled? Here is an explanation of facts, from imagination, and from my journal of yesteryear and more recently.

’There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy.’ William Shakespeare’s Hamlet

We are surrounded by metaphors, physical metaphors, that point to something beyond, above or below. Such metaphors are glimpses that challenge, inspire or instruct if we allow them, but to do that we first need to be aware of them.

There is a mountain not far from Capel Curig, that, like the rest of Wales, is complete with myth and magic, rumour and a whole host of legends that invite the brave, or perhaps repel the timid. Glyder Fawr is just one such place. It is part of several peaks. How many? Well the ‘set’ is called Tryfan (and therein lies the clue, as Tryfan is Welsh for ‘three peaks’). As regards a wonderful and profound climb some time ago – see here.

There are myths in Wales about giants on mountains, dragons in mountains, water-horses in lakes and rivers, and other elementals that live deep in the ground. We all knew they were myths, and many, even in Wales, laugh at such superstitions, but deep in our minds, and I’m thinking of myself and friends of yesteryear, we weren’t so sure that those myths should be disregarded, well at least not totally.

‘I was born with the ability to see in metaphor. This has been my inborn way of relating to the living Oneness of things. From an early age, the world has spoken to me in this way. The analogous relationship of things has called, not in words, but in a silent language that has sow shown me, however briefly, the web of connection [of] everything.’ Mark Nepo, Seven Thousand Ways To Listen

Perhaps, these myths were not to be taken literally, and they were metaphorical, and ‘poetically’ warned passers-by, or perhaps they were to be taken literally? As children we loved the not knowing, and as I and my friends grew older there was always that lurking possibility that maybe there was something ‘behind’ them. Exactly, what physical metaphors purport to ‘show’.

At the base of Glyder Fawr is a rocky crevice – about ten feet wide, thirty feet long, and deep, very deep. As teenagers when would hike and have adventures, this was the place to go. Forever and a day, for as long as I can remember, and certainly as early teenagers, at the base of Glyder Fawr, we called that breach in the ground Uffern.

As young teens we avoided that pit in the ground, but as we grew a little older, a lot braver, more adventurous and somewhat stronger the ‘terror’ of Uffern (which is the Welsh word for hell) grew smaller, until one day a few of us, well-versed in abseiling, and belaying by then, tackled that void.

We climbed down into Uffern, climbed into Hell. With a lot of laughing and some seriousness, we were encountering then, though we didn’t know it at the time, a physical metaphor.

Physical metaphors, which may include outdoor adventure, nature observation, ritual or anything that is challenging and physical (as in tangible, solid, observable) are excellent tools for making change in each of us, and to awaken us to what is beyond.

Physical metaphors can interrupt our habitual patterns of behaviour, place us in an awkward and challenging situation and thereby open us up to new ways of thinking and doing things. In such situations our limitations and objections (of ‘Yes, but….) cease to have any power over us. People discover they must discard old, useless behaviour and replace it with something fresh, empowering and creative. Physical metaphors make us go, ‘wow’ in awe and wonder.

‘Communion is a ceremony based around food and drink…. In the Lord’s Supper, it is as if we are enacting a physical metaphor. The physical act of eating and drinking is very much like the spiritual realities it represents’. Ron Julian, Communion Metaphor, Gutenberg College.

I’m back at Uffern.  I’m older. This time alone, this time as an adult (and a mature, agewise, one at that) and it is probably the hottest day of the year. And I’ve climbed down to the base of the crevice. It’s silent, unusually so, except for the occasional drip of water that hits the small, two inch high pool of water that has collected beneath my feet. I’m alone (or am I?). It’s awesome, its wonderful, it is an amazing place. It’s rocky, damp, deep, cramped and full of jagged rocks, but it is bliss.

I can now ‘unpack’ the meaning of this physical metaphor, which to me ‘speaks’ of overcoming my teenage fears of this pit in the ground, my wariness that it could be a link between ‘our world’ and that of elementals. To be honest, I think it might be a doorway, but I now don’t fear those elementals, but see them as fellow occupants of this wonderful planet. And if I’m wrong and they don’t exist then they will not be present to hear what I’ve just spoken to them, and no one will ever know that I’ve even spoken to them (or tried), except now I’ve confess to you. So, you know. But, I’m amongst friends.

I’ve also discovered that the Earth holds a depth of meaning (no pun intended) that is only discovered if we are bold enough to step out of our comfort zone, to take risks and dare to do. I’ve also found that, perhaps, we are surrounded by a multitude of physical metaphors (in rural places as well as in built-up places) and each of them can be prompts to each one of us from Beyond to encourage to ‘see’ behind the visible.

‘We do not receive wisdom, we must discover it for ourselves, after a journey through the wilderness which no one else can make for us, which no one can spare us, for our wisdom is the point of view from which we come at last to regard the world.’ Marcel Proust

At the base of Uffern I can relax and reflect on deep spirituality, to look at life that contains physical metaphors which anchor us to the world beyond, just as the gears of a car connect and change our foot actions into chemical-air-petrol formulations of a different order to propel the car. Connectedness.

What we see and do has actions far beyond the physical, and its for that reason I so love and cherish, and encourage liturgy, ritual and prayer and blessings, of observing and doing, of acknowledging that our seemingly small actions may have consequences (of a positive nature) far beyond our reckoning.

At the base of Uffern I have just enough time, before the light fades, to take some photographs of the amazing rocky strata that was formed and dishevelled during the last ice age, knowing that only a few have ventured to the base of Uffern, and so many have missed its beauty, and might otherwise have encountered an elemental. Ofcourse, I can’t tell you that I’ve seen one, by with eyes beyond eyes I believe I have, and from that I know the power of the imagination.

‘Imagination is more important than knowledge. For knowledge is limited to all we now know and understand, while imagination embraces the entire world, and all there ever will be to know and understand.’ Albert Einstein

And now it’s time to climb out of Uffern. I have to admit the climb up is a lot more arduous that it looks, it takes a lot longer climbing up than scaling down, and I’m not as young as I used to be, but it was worth it.

Take a look around you. What do you see? What do you really see? A burning bush? The voice of the Source of All? An encounter with an angel, the fae, an elemental in the form of a physical metaphor? Take a look around. What is seen that is actually ‘pointing’ to that which is unseen and beyond?

 

 

Tadhg On The Road To Norfolk: Awareness & Expectations

20190701 TADHG ON THE ROAD TO NORFOLK 1

I’m deep in the countryside of Norfolk now, having driven here earlier today, and the scenery is magnificent. As the sun slips below the western horizon the sky changes colour in the distance, the air is cooling, and a slight, refreshing breeze – hardly detectable, but it’s there – can be felt upon my face.

Solitude.

Anywhere, away from the hustle and bustle of regular life, can be a place of deep awareness and peace, of solitude, and enable us to go deep, and deeper still. And, Norfolk, where I am now, is just such a place. Of course, even in the city, there are parks and other places of quiet, and even in part of your home, a time and place can be sent aside to centre yourself and go inward on that imaginable journey of solitude. You don’t have to travel to remote places to enjoy it.

But, sometimes, and you will know the occasions, sometimes some extra ‘effort’ is need to do the ‘nothing’ of awareness and solitude by relocating for a while.

The air temperature is dropping now. After a hot, windless day, and a barmy evening, the temperature drop and slight breeze is most welcome, most refreshing. It’s getting dark, and darker still.

‘The best thinking has been done in solitude’. Thomas Edison

I’m alone. And yet, surrounded by the wildness and wilderness, the wild things of Norfolk. A bird, maybe a crow, cries out and flies off into the distance. There is foraging in the nearby under growth, but I can’t see the animal, but can see the trajectory it takes as plants rustle and move as it moves from me.

Solitude. Awareness.What did I expect? There is a school of thought that says that if you don‘t expect anything, and nothing happens, then you won’t be disappointed. Others, might say we should expect for them we’ll look, and in looking we will find. But, it depends on your aim, your purpose at that moment in time, and right now ‘no thing’ apart from solitude is sought.

Here are a few thoughts about the awareness of solitude and experiences, or expectations as I sit here, having finished my meditation. They are:

– solitude, as opposed to being lonely, is about choice and awareness. To be lonely is to feel bereft of support and company. With solitude, one has chosen authentic solitude – but at the back of your mind, and after that act of solitude, you know, just know that you we’re surrounded by a great cloud of witnesses, elementals, some call them angels, or the Companion encouraging you onwards, invisibly, impalpably.

– solitude can bring about deep peace, even joy. Happiness or not may depend on external influences, but joy is very much a decision, lifestyle, a way of being which is firmly in your grasp. As I sit here, all the ‘challenges’ of the day melt away. However, there are other ‘avenues’ that may be open to you as great works of art and music can have the same joyful effect.

’Hildegard viewed music as the key to opening a third state of consciousness, a trance-like strate’ HeathyHildegard.com

– solitude can enable you to gain an insight into your fundamental values, goals, your unique strengths and weaknesses.

– solitude can create a clear perception of what is important in our lives, what to expect, what not to expect and how to deal with events when expectations are thwarted. Remember, there is always tomorrow.

It’s now quite cool, and to any casual observer I have been sitting here for an hour and nothing has seemingly happened. But it has. My aim was solitude, and the purpose was meditation.  Anything else is a bonus.

But, at one fundamental level here, and where you are right now, great movements have taken place, perhaps unaware to all of us.

“I have a feeling that my boat
has struck, down there in the depths,
against a great thing.
And nothing
happens! Nothing…Silence…Waves…

Nothing happens? Or has everything happened,
and are we standing now, quietly, in the new life?”

(Juan Ramón Jiménez)*

Tomorrow, another day, and I will have different expectations. Tomorrow I perform a land healing ritual in Norfolk and I’m looking forward to that, and the following day I meet up with a dear friend and his wife. Would you believe that I haven’t seen this friend since I was twelve years old – some fifty two years ago. Time flies.

I’m now back in the little cottage I’m staying in, in Norfolk. As I sit here with a hot cup of milky Ovaltine and boyhood memories come flooding back, I realise that great expectations can come to us sometimes disguised as quite small and insignificant occurrences. Treasure those times, and revel in those times when nothing seems to happen – perhaps, then, we really are standing in the new life!

 

* [Apologies for not earlier accrediting the poem to Juan Ramón Jiménez. Now corrected]

 

In The Busy-ness Of Life

20190421 IN THE BUSYNESS OF LIFE POEM PRAYER BLESSING

It’s Eastertide, and for some it’s a long weekend holiday, a time to ‘recharge’ those ‘batteries’, to relax and enjoy the first blooms of Spring, as temperatures rise.

Here’s a poem, a prayer, a blessing just for you – because I care, and welcome you as you faithfully read my blog. And so, the following words are penned  so that you and yours might enjoy this Spring season, this time of new life, hope and renewal

In the busy-ness of life,
may you find the quiet repose of the Source of All,
and be blessed.

May the love of Life itself
fill your soul
with the energy of a thousand flowing streams.

May the love of Mary, the archetypal Mother,
pervade every gentle activity
of yours today.

May the Sun’s smile
reside in your heart, the hearth of your being
to seal you as one of His own.

And, may the wings of countless angels
brush gently across your cheeks
as you sleep safely tonight.

Our Primal Calling & Status: City Park Thoughts

20190326 OUR PROMAL CALLING AND STATUS

There is a place I go, when in London, a place in the midst of eight million people; it is a place of relative solitude. Situated at the far end of a pond in Bishop’s Park, part surrounded by mature trees and thick undergrowth you could imagine that you were miles away from the hubbub of a busy city. Tree, bushes, dryads, elementals, and if ancient text is to be believed then angels are sometimes found under mature trees such as these.

I was in that place today. And, I just sat there and ‘basked’ in nature.

It was a delight to ‘switch off’ from the challenges of listening to the politics from across the pond, and politics of the self-inflicted wound this country has caused itself. The question on everyone’s tongue is: why?

But, it got me thinking.

Is our life, the reason we were inculcated with the Divine ‘spark or crawled out of the primeval swamp a billion years ago, depending on your viewpoint, just to be a consumer or worried with ‘things’, possessions, attachments? Why? Are we just saving up for that moment when we can buy this and that?

I don’t believe so. We are more.

Ofcourse, we do consume things (but hopefully, we do so responsibly, whenever we can), we can get concerned with things and possessions (but hopefully, such things do not become the master of us), and we may have attachments (but hopefully, work towards ‘zero’ attachments or at least ‘seeing’ them for what they are. Perhaps, it’s all to do with priorities?

It’s bliss in this place. Trees and bushes, sensing spring, are pushing through leaves, flying insects are starting to buzz, and an assortment of birds fly overheard or resting near the pond, with others swimming in the pond.

And of all the creatures about this place, me, humankind is the only one that can obsess about inconsequentials. And, yet for a short while I was able to ‘switch off’ and merge with nature, to be one with everything around me as though there was  no division (and there isn’t), and any concerns about politics etc were lifted off my shoulders. It was bliss.

The rose is without why,
it blooms because it blooms,
It pays no attention to itself,
asks not whether it is seen.

(Poem, ‘Without why’ from ‘The Cherubinic Wanderer’, by Angelus Silesius (1624-1677), a mystical poet)

In this simple and profound state the rose is, just is. It doesn’t fret about its function or the processes of being a rose. Infact the notion of what and why and how doesn’t enter into the picture. Using the analogy of the rose it is an encouragement for us to exert our original identity, to realise our wonderful status, and revel in the freedom of being ourselves.

We are more than just consumers, voters, workers etc. In one sense, we do not need to strive. Want to be one with nature? We already are! Though I accept that sometimes our actions seem to ‘distance’ us and there is a need to act in accordance with our being. Want to be one with the Divine? We are already at the feast, though we might not realise it, nor act accordingly. Want to step along that path of the journey of your life? You’re already on it, so enjoy it. You’re already there!

Though we need a roof over our heads and we work and buy and sell, I do believe we miss out when we forget the primal calling which each of us responded to, as ‘chosen people’, by virtue of the fact that we are here!

As I sat in that park, today, thoughts ran through my mind: What really matters is what money cannot by. What really lasts in what cannot be quantified? What makes a difference is what is invisible.

We need to develop to look beyond, with eyes beyond eyes.

Once I asked my Master, “What is the difference between you and me?” And he replied, “Hafiz, only this.

If a herd of wild buffalo broke into our house and knocked over our empty begging bowls not a drop would spill from yours.

But there is Something Invisible that the Divine has placed in mine. If that spilled from my bowl, it could drown this whole world.’

(Hafiz)

In that park, in that place of solitude it was clear: we think our life is empty or it is so because we try to fill it with things that don’t really matter, and the bowl is metaphorically empty. However, if our priorities are correct and we’re aware of our primal calling and status, then when the bowl of our life, our being, is spilled, then we understand it contains invisible contents, and  something wonderful spills over.

Now, were those thoughts mine, as they occurred in the park, or prompted by someone else, an angel, a fae, an elemental, a subtle being? Who knows? Ask that question, and we’re back to square one. Ask that and we’ve jumped out of the mystery and into rational thought. When we were infact dealing with the ‘arational’ (above the rational, not irrational). Perhaps the question isn’t important, nor one we should really  be asking. Perhaps, just accepting the thoughts from any origin, dwelling on them, mulling them over is what is most important. It is, surely, important to exert our original identity, to realise our wonderful status, and revel in the freedom of being ourselves.

Now, the park as I sit on this park bench seems even more alive, more wonderful, more mysterious than I had formerly imagined. It is the case, with eyes to see beyond, the same where you are, too!

And so, I leave the park. Those concerns I had, and our need for work and shelter etc still persist, but for a short time, the benefits of that time in the park have put those things into perspective. And, it’s bliss.

 

The Caim And ‘The Inner Accuser’

20190221 THE CAIM AND THE INNER ACCUSER

Here’s a story, a childhood memory of mine.There was a time when I was a wee lad that I would sit on my Dad’s stomach as he lay down, his knees bent forming the back rest of an imaginary car seat, and as he held my plastic toy steering wheel my imagination would run riot, and I would be ‘off’. Off where?

I can’t now remember, except years of watching my Dad move a gear-stick and turn the steering wheel in our car, as he drove us all about, gave me desire to do the same: move my hands, changing gear on the steering column and turning that pretend steering wheel. I loved it, and then, it seemed so real. I wanted to get the movements just right – it was important to my playing. Oh, very important to me! Ah, the power of a child’s imagination. Fun. No responsibility. I loved it.

‘Logic will get you from A to B. Imagination will take you everywhere’. Albert Einstein

There was a time, many years later, when I was sitting in my Dad’s car, with him in the passenger seat beside me, and I was trying to get that, then, elusive ‘biting point’ on the car as I had my first driving lesson. Beads of sweat ran down my brow as I tried, and failed. And, once again, the car would ‘kangaroo’ forward, start-stop, start-stop.

Once, I had mastered it, ofcourse then I had to work out the gear stick, clutch, ‘gas’ pedal, steering wheel turning, indicators etc . It was extremely important to learning to control that car safely. Not really fun, and some responsibility, but I was determined.

‘To steer, you need both the hands. Try to change the appropriate gear and then ensure both of your hands are on the wheel before starting to turn the steering wheel.’ The UK Highway Code.

Shortly after that, I had it worked out, and then, and you’ll be pleased to know, now, years later, all of the abovementioned has become effortless, and second-nature. Working the gear and pedals, indicators and turning that steering wheel had become quite natural, and I am even able to do ‘clever’ things such as stepping down the gears, as I approach red traffic lights, to slow the car and save the break pads, before applying the brake gradually. Impressed? Now, it is quite fun driving, but still a responsibility to get it right.

Throughout the serious business of learning to drive a car, and in other areas of life I’ve found, and you may be the same, that the ‘inner accuser’ surfaces. You will recognise his or her voice when you’re doing something new or important and he or she says things like, ‘you’ll never master it, so why bother?’, or ‘you’re wasting your time’, or ‘whatever do you want to do that for, especially as you’ll look an idiot’, and so it goes on. Or, does that just happen to me?

Tonight, I sat in a darkened room, with just one solitary candle lit. I wanted to perform a caim ritual. The caim is a profound ‘circling’ prayer or ritual-liturgy that ‘taps’ into the power and energy of the Source of All. It was used by Celts of old, Druids and Pagan, early Christians and by others. It is still used in various forms by latter-day Celts, some Churches who value its benefits, and by some wiccans, pagans, light-workers, mystics and fellow-Druids friends known to me. Individuals as well as groups. Yes, it can be used by anyone who knows the value of prayer or ritual-liturgy.

Tonight, I sat in a darkened room, with just one solitary candle lit, about to perform the Caim and that ‘inner accuser’ spoke words of doubt. Normally I wouldn’t entertain such doubt – I can always address such issues after the ritual – but on this occasion it felt right to do so.

This Caim was, like others, opened by making a circle, turning clockwise. Sometimes I like to visualise that I’m in a wonderful forest and enter a clearing that is well-lit. A kataphatic approach.

That inner space that I entered is liminal space. For me, I call it the imaginal realm. Not to be confused with ‘mere imagination’ as some others call it, and then  immediately dismiss it as powerless.

The Caim is an intermediary space, the gap between the physical realm (which we can all relate to and understand – it is the place of the body) and the ouranic realm (the place of the Spirit, where all that is good and holy originates), and it is the place of power, potential and transformation.

With the UK on the verge of making a political and economic disaster on 29 March 2019 at 11pm, I wanted to enter that circle, with the intention of seeking to empower politicians to make the correct decisions over the next few weeks.

The ‘inner accuser’ came to life. ‘What difference do you think you can make? Do you have delusions of grandeur? Don’t you think that the Universe, the Source of All can do this without you? And, so it went on.

‘And I sought for a man among them, that should make up the hedge, and stand in the gap before me for the land…but I found none.’ Ezekiel 22:30, part, The Book

And, that’s where those early driving lessons came back to mind. I recognised that defeatist voice of old. Ah, there may be an element of truth in what it said, but not the total truth. Had the ‘inner accuser’ spoke all falsehoods then he or she could be easily dismissed. But, which was truth and which falsehood? Mixing the two makes what the ‘inner accuser’ says seemingly credible. But, only seemingly.

There was a time when I couldn’t drive a car. A time when I played at it. Then, a time when I went through the motions – moving this hand, moving that foot, checking them mirror, indicating, and then finding that now oh-so-easy ‘biting point’ to move the car.

This memory defeated the ‘inner accuser’ as I sat cross-legged in that Caim, that circle. I had accomplished something then, I can do it now. I might only make a small effect, but that, coupled with many more people doing similar, can have a big impact. And, yes the Universe might be able to do it without us, but it seems to me that the Source of All regards us as co-creators and desires our participation. Isn’t what the way the Universe has configured the universe?

Lucy has to enter the house and read a spell for making hidden things visible. She knows at once that she’s got it right, because colour and pictures start to appear on the pages of the magic book…and wonder of wonder, Aslan himself…is also made visible. ‘Aslan’, said Lucy, almost reproachfully. ‘Don’t make fun of me. As if anything (such as the spell she recited) would make you visible.’ ‘It did, said Aslan, ‘Do you think I wouldn’t obey my own rules?’. ‘The Chronicles Of Narnia’, C S Lewis

You and I can make a difference, and ritual and liturgy coupled with action in the physical world can reap great benefits. The Universe could do it without us but has chosen you and I to be involved. What a responsibility? What a privilege?. And so, what we say and do in ritual is important.

I had opened the Caim ritual as I had many times before. The ‘content’ and aim was different as I had never used the Caim before for Brexit. But, why not? I wouldn’t use it for my own political views – and that’s where responsibility comes in – but it is right, I believe, to intervene and seek, ‘imaginally’, for the right outcome to come about. Our responsibility.

Let your steps dance silently
To the rhythm of the Beloved’s Name.
My finger and my hands
Never move through empty space
For there are
Invisible golden lute strings all around,
Sending Resplendent Chords
Throughout the Universe.

Hafiz

In that Caim, that circle I imagined Parliament and its Members, I imagined ‘cornfields’ of pure power and love, scooped up the latter and ‘hurled’ it, ‘imaginally’ at the former. Later, I closed the Caim, closing that circle. Ofcourse, this is only the Caim in brief, but it was the doubt and overcoming that doubt that seemed to be the important topic, here, just this once

Moving our feet and hands in ritual does have an effect, just as moving our feet and hands propels a car along. Could the car analogy and ritual itself be ‘physical’ metaphors to describe and effect change in the Universe – physical actions leading to deeper, spiritual and invisible (or partially seen) actions? Hafiz suggests so. Hafez, I believe, suggests so. Ritual, moving our feet and hands, as well as uttering words, and intentionality can have an effect, even though the cynic might disagree. Never listen to the ‘inner accuser’ (who is clever enough to use other peoples ‘inner accuser’ against you, if you’re not listening to your own ‘inner accuser’).

Will this Caim I performed be effective? I can’t prove that it will be, but I would like to think that it, accompanied with action in the physical realm, ‘earthing’ action, and with others doing similar will be effective, and good will come out of it. Now, how that then works out  may be the work of the Universe, but we’ll see.

’For as he thinketh in his heart, so is he…’ Proverbs 23.7b, The Book

Perhaps as children, with vivid imaginations there is awesome power at play, in play, but that as adults we grow up and lose that recognition and understanding. Certainly, as a wee lad sitting across my Dad’s stomach and driving that pretend car, it seemed real at the time. Maybe, as ‘children’ in the Universe it’s our work and delight to be imaginatively involved in co-creating. Not as children, childishly: but as adults using that powerful and child-like power and faith in ritual, as enabled and empowered by That Which Is Bigger Than Us.

Now, as regards the Caim, I am determined to take it further. Some have emailed me, many others have read and re-read articles about the Caim from yesteryear, and expressed an ongoing interest. And, it seems to me that that interest and the power, and benefit of the Caim is something that can be taken forward in workshops and in online videos.

Ofcourse, you guessed it. The ‘inner accuser’ just woke up. ‘No one will come, everyone is too busy’. ‘Who on earth will watch that kind of video’. ‘You’ll be better of taking it easy and putting your feet up, Tadhg’, the ‘inner accuser’ says. But, guess what? I’m not listening to him or her.

Do watch this space – and for information about the Caim and future events and articles do ‘sign up’ so that you’re notified when articles are published online and events diarised (if you haven’t already signed up to with my FaceBook site, or TadhgTalks (the worpdress blog), or contact me direct.

 

That Celestial Café, That Magic Café: A Story From The Heart(h)

20190125 that celestial cafe that magical cafe

And so, there I was in the Magic Café in the heart London, today. It is one of my favourite haunts to rest, relax, read a deep and interesting book, and meet dear friends and chat. It has a ‘magical’ quality about it. Walk past it and you could be forgiven for thinking it is just another café. But, it isn’t. Things happen here. And today, in one of those moments of cosmic significance, as I sat there I gazed into a cup of coffee with a ‘galaxy-shape’ dollop of cream swirling around in the cup, and I pondered. And, I was reminded of something from oh so many years ago.

I was about five or six years of age, and was sitting at the foot of my grandmother’s rocking chair, and I was probably too near to the open fire in the hearth and so would constantly shift. I had been playing outside for some time, and had got bitterly cold, and was now trying to get warm.

My grandmother came into the room, gave me a cup of hot chocolate, and said, ‘This’ll warm you up, wee one’, and as I looked at it, there was a dollop of cream swirling around in a ‘galaxy shape’. I was mesmerised. My grandmother noticed and half-laughed.

‘Your heart knows the way; run in that direction’. Rumi

‘Imagine’, she said, ‘that in your cup you’re gazing at a galaxy containing a billion races of beings of all shapes and sizes, all living their lives without knowing that you’re looking at them’. I could imagine that, and I was in awe to think that I might have already sipped a few races to oblivion!

She told one of her stories, and the moment she opened her lips I was enthralled.
‘Imagine’, she said, ‘ that in your cup you’re gazing at a galaxy containing a billion races of beings of all shapes and sizes, all living their lives without knowing that you’re looking at them’. She continued, ‘Perhaps we all come from some kind of celestial café, and all the people we’ve ever known or even briefly met we’ve met before are in that galaxy somewhere.

‘I think there was a time when in that celestial café you and I, along with everyone else, were having a cup of hot chocolate. Oh, it was a wonderful place. No one got ill, not one died, no one aged. It was bliss’, she said.

‘And then, one day you and I, and a few others were chosen to go on an amazing adventure. As we looked out of the window, we saw a wonderful created galaxy, or perhaps as you looked down into that cup of hot chocolate in the celestial café you saw it too. And as you released a cube of sugar, even before it fell into the hot chocolate we left. And so did millions of others who were chosen for that adventure.’ she said.

‘But, why leave?’, I asked. ‘Ah, she replied, ‘ that’s the mystery. There is always a reason even if we can’t fathom it out now. But, one day we will’

‘And so, having left that celestial café for a very good, but unremembered reason, adventure started here in Capel Curig for us, and we’re living our adventure now. Others ‘landed’ in America, France, Germany, China, Russia and on all parts of the globe’, she said with a slight glint in her eye. ‘And it’s a most wonderful adventure to be lived to the full each and every day. And everyone you meet ‘down here’ will be people you’ve known ‘up there’ but might not remember right now’.

‘And, here you, a wee lad of five, gazing into that cup of coffee with what looks like a galaxy swirling around on its surface.’
‘One day’, she said, ‘it’ll be time to go home. Hopefully, that’ll be after a hundred years ‘down here’, and can you imagine what it will be like ‘up there’ when you get home?
I pondered, trying to put all this cosmic timescale into some kind of order, and then after a number of minutes looking up to the left, then the right, starting to mouth an answer but stopping before even a word was uttered, with furrowed eyebrows I calmly said, ‘no!’.

She laughed as only grandmother could. ‘Why, she said, ‘we’ll be sitting in a celestial café, drinking hot chocolate, and as you look into the cup you’ll notice the cube of sugar just hitting the coffee’.

Now, even at that young age I had noticed what I thought was a flaw in her storytelling.

‘But Granma, when you told that story, right at the beginning you said I had just started to drop the sugar cube into the cup, then you said you hoped we all lived ‘down here’ for a hundred years. But, if you and I lived for a hundred years and went back to the celestial café, how come the sugar is only just hitting the chocolate as though only a second has passed?’ I was quick!

‘Yes, you’re right, little one, but a hundred years ‘down here’ is only like one second ‘up there’.

Years later the story was still poignant, and it was only years later that I could ‘unpack’ the story for its full meaning; a message of cosmic proportions told by an elderly Welsh woman of some great age, many years ago.

‘It’s as though we’ve stepped out of that celestial café for one second, lived a full life of a hundred years ‘down here’, and returned to that celestial café and picked up where we left off. So. only a second (or less) has passed’. ‘Infact, many’, she said, ‘believe we never left that celestial café, but we just think we did. We’re still there, looking down as if we’re gazing into a cup of hot chocolate with a dollop of cream on it resembling a spiral galaxy.’

That story was told to me many years ago. But, it makes you think doesn’t it?

We think of the after-life, but what about pre-life? And, if there is such a notion, and I, like my grandmother believe there is, then we’ve either just stepped out for a blink of an eye and lived (or are living) a full life here on Earth and one day will return; or we have never left, but maybe our ‘dampened consciousness’ has, and it’s that revelation we come to understand when it’s our turn to pass on and return to that celestial café.

‘…a day is like a thousand years, and a thousand years are like a day”, 2 Peter 3.8b, The Book

Either way, I do believe it’s a story that encompasses a fragment of understanding of our ‘beginning’, our current life, and our return ‘home’ for everyone. No wonder there are some people I seem to know and give a friendly nod to as I pass them in the street, but can’t ever remember seeing them before. It’s as if our memory of that celestial café has been erased for the time being, but we get a glimpse every so often.

Perhaps that annoying neighbour, that traffic warden, that good friend or infuriating friend is, even now sitting with me (and you) in that celestial café looking down and watching events ‘down here’ unfold?

As a young lad I was mesmerised by my grandmother’s story. ‘Drink up, your hot chocolate won’t be hot forever’, she said. But she knew! She knew of a place where hot chocolate never gets cold.

My grandmother passed-on in 1986. She went back to that celestial café, known by a myriad of other names: the Summerland(s), Bliss, Heaven, Paradise, Moksha, Nirvana, Ynis Witrin (Glass Island), Glass Mountain or Fortress etc,, and in that kind of celestial time-scheme it could be that she never really left or if she did it have been me (or you or one of your loved ones) that may have been waiting at the table awaiting her return?

‘I firmly believe that when you die you will enter immediately into another life. They who have gone before us are alive in one form of life and we in another. ‘ Norman Vincent Peale

My grandmother told some wonderful stories. I know we might each have different views on pre-life or the afterlife, but you have to admit (I think) that my grandmother’s story, well,  they make you think, don’t they?

 

 

We Live In An Ocean Of Air: Connectedness

20190115 we live in an ocean of air

And so, I and five others waited in that darkened room. Suddenly startled, my eyes saw a myriad of trees around me and in the distance. Deep, dense green. Wonderful. There were birds flying around me and above me in this tropical rain forest, and I could hear their birdsong. Golden airborne seeds seemed to be wafted towards me on the wind,  and then away. Bliss.

To one side stood an old, thick, majestic and immensely tall tree. It was a sequoia tree, ancient and gnarled, standing over 200 feet tall. I moved towards it. As I did it got larger in my sight.

‘If a tree falls in the forest there are other trees listening.’

air cBreathing out my breath was a myriad of blue bubbles – about the size of garden peas. I inhaled. Exhaled, and there they were again. I moved my hand through those blue bubbles and they swirled about, affected by my hand’s swishing movement. My hand consisted of thousands of red bubbles denoting my blood supply, but always forming a handshape as I moved my hands about.

I was concerned about the other five people. Where were they?

I looked behind and to the left, and human shapes passed close. Millions of red bubbles, in human form, showed the outline and exact place of the others. Living cells of blood came closer. Male or female, local or foreign, black or white? I didn’t know.  It made no difference. Red cells full of oxygen and life, representatives of humankind, were coming close, then moving off, in some slow dance. And as they moved, their hands moved to experience this event. They seemed to be doing tai chi. Tian.

As they breathed out, so many tiny blue bubbles filled the air in front of their faces. I breathed out and moved my hands to show them where I was. I saw them, they saw me. No words were exchanged, but we communicated in some silent, deep, ancient and primal way. Summerlands.

’It’s like a ‘wood wide web’.’

air aI moved even closer to that large, splendid tree. Suddenly, as I looked down I saw winding ‘cables’, about six inches thick – some wider, some smaller, ‘cables’ with yellow light emitting from every inch of it. I could see the mighty tree’s root system, moving nutrients from the distance to its trunk, under my feet. I was in awe. My feet were it its root system!

I turned to see the tree roots become entangled with other trees in an amazing network of connectedness and mutual support. I turned back towards the thick trunk of the tree and stretched out my hand as if to touch it, and walked forward. Eden.

My sight changed. Around me were now a myriad of luminous ‘wires’ embracing me, and running down and up. I looked up and saw them disappear high above me. I looked around and moved my hand to touch these spaghetti-like ‘wires’ of luminous light – phloem, the trees ‘vascular bundles’ which draw water in and deliver it to all parts of the tree – those ‘wires’ of pink and white, yellow and light blue gently moved in response to my touch, and then they moved back.

I was ‘in’ that ancient tree. Part of it. Connected.

‘If a giraffe starts eating an African acacia, the tree releases a chemical into the air that signals that a threat is at hand. As the chemical drifts through the air and reaches other trees, they “smell” it and are warned of the danger. Even before the giraffe reaches them, they begin producing toxic chemicals.’

I remained there, in that tree. It was divine.

As I stood motionless, I could see light pulses moving up the tree, could see my breath as blue bubbles, could hear the tree moving water around its trunk and branches, and could hear my own heartbeat, could see the tree discharging oxygen: the tree and me (us) in a harmony of light and sound, together. Jannah.

But, it was time to explore, more so, and so I walked around.

A few minutes later, this green vision of that ancient forest disappeared and my vision went black. I stood motionless. The experience was over, but what an experience to remember!

air bAn assistant, one of two, who invisibly, were in the large room to assist fellow sojourners during this experience, took off my headgear which projected that ancient Gaia forest scene and which monitored my breathing. Next, she took out the earpieces throughout which I had heard birdsong and lovely forest sounds. Then, the wrist attachments, which showed me my hands in that ‘vision’, were removed. The strap around my chest which monitored my heart beat (and let me hear my heartbeat sounds) was unstrapped, and finally the backpack (which presumably contained battery and some kind of computer, and which weighed about 15 lbs) was removed.

I was ‘back’.

Along with the other five we discussed this moving and spiritual experience, and later, as I sat on the top deck of the number 22 bus in London I looked around at people – red blood vessels of light; trees containing ‘wires’ of light and wondered about the wonderful world we inhabit.

‘When you know that trees experience pain and have memories and that tree parents live together with their children, then you can no longer just chop them down and disrupt their lives with large machines. Machines’

I marvelled that humankind, animals, plants, the local and cosmic environment are one: we are all connected.

 

This ‘immersive’, thought-provoking and spiritual event is ‘We live in an Ocean of Air’, a virtual reality experience where the invisible connection between plant and human is revealed through breath. Visitors are invited to step through the canvas to explore a magical world where the invisible exchange of oxygen and carbon dioxide is beautifully brought to life. The event takes place for a few weeks (more) at the Saatchi Gallery, Chelsea, London.

The indented quotes above all come from the book, ‘The Hidden Life of Trees: What They Feel, How They Communicate – Discoveries from a Secret World’ by Peter Wohlleben,

 

I’ll Show You Something To Make You Change Your Mind: Perception

20181211 ILL SHOW YOU SOMETHING TO MAKE YOU CHANGE YOUR MIND PERCEPTION

I’m still in London and it looks as though I’ll be here until after Christmas, when I’ll then journey back to Wales for a while. It’s easy to understand Wales as the land of ‘myth and magic’, for that is was it is, but what of London?

The world exists as you perceive it.
It is not what you see, it is how you see it.
It is not what you hear, but how you hear it.
It is not what you feel, but how you feel it.

Rumi

London is a bustling modern city of more than eight million people, a ‘powerhouse’ of activity and trade and modern buildings that reach to the sky. But, there’s more.

Look deeper, and it too is a place of ‘myth and magic’, and I do believe wherever you are, if you scratch below the surface (metaphorically) there is more there than meets the eye.

Look at it one way, here, and you see a twenty-first century, modern city, perceive it afresh and you also see, almost seemingly superimposed onto it, a place that is altogether otherworldly of which many people only get glimpses that are fleeting and easily ‘drowned out’ by modern life. But, not you.

Let me take you by the hand and
Lead you through the streets of London
I’ll show you something to make you change your mind.

‘Streets of London’, song, 1969, Ralph McTell

‘Myth and magic’ all around us, around me, around you wherever you are? Take for instance, the story of Bran. Bran the Blessed, sometimes called Bendigeidfran or Brân Fendigaidd, which means ‘ Blessed Raven’ in Welsh). He was a giant, a king of renown in Britain as recorded in the Mabinogion.

In one of the many battles mentioned in the Mabinogion, only seven men survived the battle, and they are told by a mortally wounded Bran to cut off his head. The story goes that they did this and (as sometimes happens in these ancient stories) Bran’s head continued to speak for some considerable time. Once silent, and some time later, the seven men take Bran’s head to (what is thought to be Grasshold Island, near Dyded in Wales).

There, they and the head remain for eighty years without perceiving the passage of time. They are later instructed to take Bran’s head to London, to White Hill where it is to be buried. Once there, they buried Bran’s head, and the thought was then, that because of that act the Kingdom would be protected against all foreign invasions and the country would remain and not fall. This is a wonderful story full of great meaning, imagery, ‘myth and magic’.

‘We are not makers of history. We are made by history’. Martin Luther King Jr

But, what of modern London?

Nearby is Subways (food), the Gourmet Burger Kitchen (food), and Wagamama’s (always my favourite food places, but I really don’t always have food on my mind) and there are many offices, tower blocks, businesses; and nestling along the bank of the River Thames on one side, the approach to Tower Bridge, Petty Wales, and the A3211 road and Tower Hill underground station on the other sides is the site of the Tower of London. This is one of my favourite historical sites in London.

That site, surrounded by ancient buildings and with other notable places within such as the Executioner’s Mound, the Torture Room and Traitors Gate, has, at its centre the actual Tower of London complex. The significant building there, built on a small hill (or mound) is the White Tower, built is the early 1080’s.

Could the White Tower be built on White Hill as mentioned in the Mabinogion? I like to think so, that there is a connection.

There is a long superstition, and if you’ve visited the Tower of London then the Yeoman Warders who guard the Tower will also tell you, that the ravens that hop around the grounds are important. Whilst they remain within the grounds of the Tower of London the Kingdom would be protected against all foreign invasions and the country would remain and not fall. Does that sound familiar?

Could the promise of protection for the realm be connected to Bran’s head and that ancient story, and the promise made when it was buried? I like to think so, especially as Bran’s proper name of Bendigeidfran or Brân Fendigaidd, means ‘Blessed Raven’ in Welsh.

There is a connection.

Brans head, I believe is buried there, the promise was given then, and still operates, perhaps conditional on the ravens, a reminder of Bran, remaining in the grounds of the Tower of London. Fortunately, the ravens have never left the Tower of London by their on accord and never will! Thus,  the realm is safe. There is some irony here.

Again, those who have visited the Tower of London and have heard the Yeoman Warders recite the myth will know that the wings of the ravens are ‘clipped’. The birds can hop, but not fly, and because of that the promise of the country’s safety is guaranteed against any foreign invasion.

‘It is above all by the imagination that we achieve perception and compassion and hope’. Ursula. Le Guin

And, so I’m still in London, a place of unbridled myth and magic, a place where another realm seems to operate unknown the many business workers that travel in daily, and I suspect that that is the same wherever you are, if you ‘scratch below the surface’, perceive afresh and suspend that twenty-first materialism that so easily clings to us and blinds us. If we don’t look anew we will only see the same mundane view; but if we look anew, perhaps using our imagination, then a whole new world, a world of both the physical and spiritual opens up, for, there is really more, oh so much more around us than meets the eye.

‘Ask and it will be given to you; seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened to you.’ Matthew 7.7, The Book

Look around your locality. What do you see? Now take another look. Use your imagination. Take your time. Pause. Relax. Look deeper, and then deeper still. What do you really see?