It’s a long time since I wrote or copied to here! Welcome back, those of you who stayed around. Aquariel is an angel of the waters and of the air through the woods of life. This blog is sister to my main one, and its original intention was to walk with matters of ecology and autopoiesis. My journal this morning touches on the ecology of the psyche which can help to restore the natural balance. So alongside extinction-rebellion activists, here goes!
The billions of cells in the body and DNA; each has the fervent belief that he or she is the Master-key: each expendable with the tides. Yet each in term holds the miracle of the All Clear, the whole universe; and each has this opportunity to live and go deep and influence the lake, if she so pleases.
It is time for me to brush up my understanding of the DNA in the gene keys. I tried to talk about it and synarchy last night at dinner, and my hostess said she couldn’t see how patterns of consciousness can be related to our DNA and my host said is there any link between psychology/spirit/emotions to the physical? He can’t see it. Perhaps he was doing a ‘challenge’ to draw me out. Afterwards he said I spoke up well. Towards the end when it was my bedtime and time to go, POOR OLD BREXIT raised its bleeding head, and Catherine said in her book-group no one is allowed now to use the B word because there are disputes even in that little circle; anyway they began to talk about it and loosely mentioned “civil war”. So I went home. It was too late to start on turning the thought-form around. I felt slightly blighted. However I saw clearly that thinking about Britex and contributing to the tangled web is not the way. The way is: the English are unhappy. I contain this deep painful lacerating unhappiness. The English are having an illness, like the flu, a war of antibodies; a keep-out disease. The country doubts itself and? … it will recover. Recognising this is how to face the distress, lean into and be in contact with it day by day; not with the useless analytical mind with its stethoscopes and searches for conditioned meaning – areas to poke, to blame or shame; and not with comfort zones. Comfort zones are opinions and denials.
Our country is ill and in pain. The pain is in the collective plexus. Some of us are directly impacted by it; others are not. Go about our business. I am a cell in the English pain-body which is doubting its status among nations and thus ignoring environmental messages. Many demons run amuck and many white corpuscles rush around with their engulfing shields; huge coagulations and suppurations around the self-dwelt wound. The wound is in my awareness and being present.
The normal reaction is to try to do something by thinking about it and therefore inflaming it further. The uncertainty is the painful and warring factor. The mind desires handles of certainty to grip. Those become aggressive because they are uncertain. The Devil manufactures Certainty! – (as I was shown at Strumble Head in south Wales, over the rocks.)
The Hermetic “certain and most true” is far beyond the box and encircles it. Let go of the coffin-carriers. Temporal certainties are frozen slides across the film. Aggression is prompted by fear. To which do I turn my head and heart and hand – to the dog-fight or the swan? I see both.
This is fascinating; objective; compassionate as the accompanying angel; presence now. The notion grows to respect this collective in its difficulty; its dissonance holds the seed of realisation and cooperation. Difficulty at the beginning (I Ching 3rd hexagram). The country suffers the fruit of what it neglected in the passing generations. Each country with Pluto and Saturn at the plough in Capricorn, suffers its own kind. The discontent is actually unconditional. Germany with its good stable Frau at the helm suffers the same street hooligans and neo-nazis. The fact is that the baby complains and suffers and is horrible even if everything in the government is relatively alright. The pain and the protest is across all the boundaries indifferently, and in England the government now reflects this reality.
That is a sort of badge to wear with honour, for reality is being faced; the chrysalis is cracked. Do not die with despair like Leonard Cohen who could see just not quite far enough through the shadows. See the way through, the way ahead, the stirring of the Butterfly. Someone last night mentioned a butterfly which entered twice a crucial moment; the room opened.
The materialistic intellect turns down all the lights and only a heaving alienated metallic mass is visible. I was asked to give an example of what I mean by working with one’s DNA in gene keys, and I chose my Evolution 62. It is called the Language of Light. Its Shadow is the Intellect, the Gift is Precision and the free Siddhi is Impeccability; however this doesn’t answer the question and it is as impossible to as it would be for them to supply in a few sentences their entire Doctorate study, their whole life’s work, training and technical language. I tried to explain turning to face one’s Shadow, discover the revealed gift, illumine it further and realise its specific enlightenment, and to say this is based on the 64 DNA codons, 64 I Ching hexagrams and astrology – who among them knows or cares anything about those?
So … my sadness is as usual the fact of dancing round the room the opposite way to everyone else. My hostess put it in a nutshell: “Jane sees things in a different way.” The idea the dinner party DID agree on, was that knowledge is beyond the box. The DNA spiral helix and coding for instance is not for an instant, static. Its basic curve alone might be determined. The curve is a question mark.
For me this quantum field is enthroned with the I Ching Circle of 64 keys: a working orbital mode or mandala across the thread. It is found to work in life.
The emerging thought is to cultivate WEARING MY LIGHTHOUSE WITH PRIDE. Talk of it. Practice. Be a teacher with it, here and there. Let it come out. Bungling gradually unfolds clarity. Start to challenge.
I am in presence now with the extraordinary subtle upward waterfall of the DNA spiral helix of patterns which humans arrange in coded numbers. The silvery singing uprising is within me and through all my branches. I have this in common with every single organism in the world. It is my predilection to pick out a few of the energy-particles in pattern, name them as a system of numbers, identify them with my daily lifetime and “work with them.” I find this tunes me in, and my Shadow transforms. The Gene Keys is a revelation, a kind of scripture. It got written down through one man by a community of ancient wisdoms in cooperation. The essence of the revelation is the Synarchy of the creative act; this now is at work to manifest experimentally in economic and community blueprint efforts, meeting the inevitable human arguments of status. Semi-awakened and gifted humans are difficult to work with, because we think we know it all.
The Revelation is as invincible as the belief in doom and gloom, but it has more penetration. Doom and gloom transforms nothing: Revelation upsets everything. The subtle upward waterfall is Reality. The subtle upward waterfall may be seized for an individual artist to exhibit, or it may expand and widen concentrically into the world scene to touch and ignite others.
Recently I saw the film “Wings of Desire” which deeply impressed me. It is set in the 1970s, an angel’s compassionate observation among the humans both sides of the Berlin wall.
Deeply, compresent, is the Angelic entity with the human condition. It has a special delight in being given sentience; it is my Lover. It walks with me, it fills my limbs, it loves the food and drink and the things which grow in the Tree of Life and the wet autumnal ground and these fingers at rest or making music on little black keys. Since seeing “the Wings of Desire”, this solid aspect of the Magid clarifies to me. You fill my body now with magnetic joy!
Magnets have great joy in attracting metals and in drawing patterns of iron-filings on the table placed above them. The magnetic has great joy in the gentle force of the spinal attractor-field. All the Beauty curves towards it like the grass when a zephyr breathes through a field of long hay
Angels are – in the quantum field – the patterns of cosmic law connecting galactic sunflowers and their black wholes to planetary consciousness, field-flowers, mice, relationships and other phenomena. Angels are portrayed as winged beings, because their capacity is to be everywhere and in the smallest most intimate space: to be clothed in the ordinary.
The angel’s cosmic joy of being has a tonal severity relative to human perception – like those two solemn men in Berlin, in black and white. When the angel is welcomed into the three ground-chakras Jupiter, Mars and Earth, the infusion includes now the private playful colour spectrum of being human, of dandling babies and welcoming lovers and going to the pub and enjoying the weather and grieving with the collective pain. The Angel is privately and in utter fullness my lover, occupying me completely and with generosity. In the film “Wings of Desire” the woman tells the angel, “With you I am even more alone now, to rest with myself.” This is the sublime paradox of angelic intimacy. The Angel desired the human self. Human self is most deeply at peace in union with solitude. The solitude is additional paradox, because it connects with other human solitudes in relationship and work, accessing occasionally the Core. The solitude is CONTACT. The angel in his overcoat and the woman in her scarlet dress turned to each other at the bar over their one big glass of wine to sip, and no one could see them. No one could see them, but the movie-goer! Such is the private relationship.
In each other’s dark open eyes is the beautiful naked flaw of humanity, humankind; its trouble and its redemption.
At the dinner, I met a woman who is learning to talk to horses. They are sensitive to human mindsets. We talk to them by entertaining them with our facial expressions, yawn, move our feet. When I meet a horse, I breathe towards its beautiful great nostrils; we exchange our breath and it stays with me, curious. They don’t necessarily want conventional pats and face-rubs, any more than a baby wants to be joggled when it is uncomfortable. They like silent conversation and to swish tails and to taste one another. Racehorses, thoroughbreds have a deep desire to be cuddled and caressed in the human psyche. They want to be held and comforted softly, tenderly, like children, for they are used and groomed for human competition. The woman is learning about the therapy which helps them, holding a stiff joint or fetlock and touching it so it loosens and is soft – a-aah.
When I was eleven and a pony came to stay on our farm, I was so excited the first night I couldn’t sleep. Before dawn I went out and crossed the silent yard and climbed over the gate into the big dark field, and I called her, and there was a light mist. And at first I couldn’t see her, then she came from the far corner, trotting towards me whom she’d only met once; my magic and my longing. I gave her an apple or carrot; I didn’t have to chase or halter her. I jumped onto her bareback with no string, and we rode around the dark field under the stars. It was the miracle. It was Heaven.
The dinner last night was cooked by Mohammed who lost his daughter to cancer at 22, and lost her mother too, at 30. We enjoyed Persian lamb minced with walnuts and pomegranate molasses. He shone and sparkled through his long beard and deep dew of sorrow and hugged us with lingering warmth, like the horses needing comfort. He used to teach engineering, and he came the day before, to fix Aladdin’s wonderful new antique lamp in the porch to shine at night. He has an allotment in Finsbury Park. He built its landscape creatively out of discarded natural materials and planted there a flower which is not native to England; it took root and spread and is a glory. His phone is full of beautiful pictures of his flowers.
So you see, it was special! O angel.
Yesterday I listened to Jaap van Etten (a Dutch ecology-scientist living and listening in Sedona) – and jotted down:
“Mother Earth has the answer to everything … coming from beyond our mental perspective. The universe doesn’t have a frame within which to work. The natural world is silence, it is not in the sci-fi box. We are habitually plugged into The Matrix of guilt and fear. These belief structures have no innocence! – they are the belief that what we have done cannot be undone. The fear holds the whole thinking community in its spell. In the lower three chakras we have NOT been trained to deal with the world around us, and the frontal lobes of the brain only confirm what I am fearful about.
“So, I’m going to re-train my system. Never give up! So I have a 40-year habit pattern to break? Well, go for it!
“I can flip for instance my fear of public speaking into a positive communication. I can harness the adrenalin into its functionality. The problem to overcome is the chronic in-grown fear habit and its slow system breakdown. Individual responsibility towards this raises up the collective.
“I teach metaphysical ecology – outside the box of religion, school and science.
“Every atom comes from and is Mother Earth. How could I change anything without this system harmony? All is connected. Become aware. I am quantum entangled with tree, bird, horse, I, particle.
“Think of the generations that are coming! Doesn’t it feel like falling off a precipice to give permission to THAT? What I feel inside is legitimate.
“As part of the whole, I raise everything. I am no longer a competitive species.
(Like yeast in bread, fermenting grape in wine. Like the ants, the bees, the starlings.)
“Most of us still follow competitive lizard behaviours. The opposite to the dominant lizard is loss of fear. Believe in yourself, your health, your gifts are needed; for this you incarnated.
“How can I possibly navigate something which is Out There? The heart receives information before any other organ. The belly gets sometimes confused. Choose timeless quantum entanglement through DNA for reconnection.”
Jaap van Etten
ADONAI THOU ART GOD. TAT TWAM ASI. I AM THAT I AM.
See also as companion posts:
Aquariel – an angel of the waters and of the air through the woods of life.
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