Mysteries of Master R (18) – Trinosofia 10 part two: Join up Stars and Wings

Here is Part Two of my reflection along Master R’s Trinosofia Chapter Ten.  This stage of the Alchemy moves between “Incineration” and “Fermentation” and is ruled by Sagittarius and Capricorn  The initiate passed through negrido – the “Putrefaction” stage  – and arose from the darkness into light.  He waded a lake in which the shadow paled to turquoise;  he reached a palace of light with a butterfly over the door.  Effectively he emerged from chrysalis.  What does he find?

The text and commentary are in “Trinosofia Texts” above, in the title bar; scroll down to the beginning of Chapter Ten.  My previous post began to explore a concept of solar energy – the conscious life force as a living battery or crystal.  Now read on:

The lighting up of the Solar battery, diminishes the small-i of its own accord.   I give attention to the current rather than to the so called problem and its literature.  All problems lead to the Current, which is why teachers and sages ask for questions, to get them going.  It is why Krishnamurti travelled around the world to give talks, rather than stay quietly in one place.  Great souls include the currants in their cake!

I dreamt I was with an interesting tall man in a wood. I think we walked down towards a brook.  He was a sheep farmer.  He had two dogs to work the sheep in the wood.  They were not collies, but they were quite fine looking animals, coloured sorrel and blond, with shaggy fur all over their heads. I wonder if they were poles of the battery.  They were intelligent at their job.   It was part of a story.

The sheep are thoughts, woolly:  the shepherd and dogs are guardians of the mind, they are upstream of the sheep.   Magid.  Attention, as Jiddu Krishnamurti would say, is to the river of life, in which the small troubled i is floated away.

Krishnamurti at Gstaad

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A beautiful walk up into the Quantock hills last night as it grew dark, with the wind’s orchestra in the trees and gentle sure feet, yielded hips to soft steep ground.  Practice intentionally my Solar battery’s independence of manufactured power line.  It is our food. Its sleeping potential is our fuel supply – the abundantly subtle clean energy … inside and out. To keep invoking, remembering and intending it is the Great Work. Quintessentially it is timely for me to move with Master R; the sweet Solitude with the Companions of the Light.  Winter: try to be more out of doors in the wet leaves.

Original illustration in “The Most Holy Trinosofia”, Chapter 10. The Commentary says he wears the green robe of Venus

There is a strange mixture:  the profound peace of the Solar battery’s current and of gravity … with the processing of  alchemy which makes the water flow thickly.  There is too much in the woven silk of life to frame it with anyone’s teaching product.

As the focus deepens, so I have access to ask more: how best to serve the strange solitary yet deeply connected role, “outside the village”?  Give the Magid more room in my being and breath, this harbour of the Sea.  Follow the Wind’s Gentle Direction when scribing in or out of community and visiting my mother on the Quantock hills.  She looked better yesterday.  A chest cold with antibiotics – especially at 95 –  takes a while to regain strength from; she took rather a turn after a nip of hot whisky, and I stroked her head as she recovered.  She discovered her body’s firm resistance to dying. She lives in her house, with good neighbour support.

I found this letter from her to her father, written in 1960:

“No I don’t think it’s really true that there is a special need for the sea.  I do know just what you mean and when with the sea, a certain need is often deeply fed and satisfied.  But what there is for us in the sea is there also in the trees and sky and clouds and grass, if it is there in our hearts to respond.  If we have to seek it out by road, rail or air specifically at chosen spots, it hasn’t really any significance, it’s just another kind of telly.  I do think we all need sometimes to be alone and quiet and in communication with things which are not manmade – but if we feel that the sea has this focus which the sky has not, then I think we need to sit down quietly and empty ourselves of chatter so that we can be more receptive … Mind you, I have a fearful feeling for the sea myself, and often a powerful yearning – but I think this yearning is very physical – so much so that it goes right back to the beginning of life in the earliest oceans. Inasmuch as there is no separation of the physical and spiritual, I suppose you might call this a spiritual need – but I don’t really think it’s a need at all.  I think all we need is here, where we are.

“Today I was crippled – but even if this was to go on for the rest of my life, I don’t want NOT TO BE any more, just because I can’t run on the hills and swim in the sea.  These are just ways of being myself by becoming for a moment the moors or the sea.  But if I am in direct communication with everything about me, then there is no ‘ME’ as an entity apart from all else, and so I no longer need to lose myself in the sea or the telly or social welfare or anything. 

“I think it is up to each of us to make our lives quiet and simple so that we can understand these things.  I am very, very privileged, because I have been allowed to grow in comparative freedom.  But I am no more privileged than any other human being ought to be.  We have stunted ourselves so terribly – so obliterated our natural abilities and perceptions, that most of us after we are two years old, can see nothing as it really is, but only in a warped and twisted light.

“… …Loving is true living, and we all fall short of that.”

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The core integrity keeps a good trapezoid fluidity around the centre of gravity.  Practice establishes it at the heart of life.  My Tai Chi friend Mrs B talks to and soothes her irregular heart in this way.  For her, like for me, the Treasure opens up and it is wonderful – and vulnerable – to be Old.

How to tune to the ongoing Grace?  Flow into it, intentionally letting go.  The intention is nothing but clarity. My body’s own knowledge and balance follows through, without the mind.  The movement enters the Body of Light.  It is good to recall the Body of Light in any manifestation.  The conscious intention is enough for it to occasionally spring into That.  The beautiful moments of Flow, at first rare, slowly coalesce to a frequency.

Here is an insight of the Wave, and why it is called a Frequency.  The different pulses of Frequency high or low, slow or fast, determine the Fibre band.  The Fibre connects mountains and river valleys like the grain along the wood.  When thinking of the Light body, slip into the wood, the water and the Stone; perhaps I see Nanda Devi or hear Liszt’s Rose theme.  It hums authentically.  It bypasses the formal instruction’s “Dummy of Light”.  The golem in a white robe – a diving suit for recognition by other higher-astral swimmers – is not my cup of tea.  My clarity with the Light body isn’t conventional but Aquarian and direct.

Early sketch – 2003

Moments of Contact come.  Much of the time, there is fumbling and fatigue.  Each day the morning opens this potential espousal with the fountain, there is heat, Master R is near.   His tentacle towards me enjoys mountain climbing! – to ascend the allegory of the Ground.

Ascension is Contact, Embodiment, Embrace.

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I walked over to Belsize yesterday.  In wet autumn leaves I strolled round the small woodland conservation area behind Downside Crescent and applied gentle Gevurah to my emotions which arise.  I am bereaved don’t-you-know, of “my old friend’s” presence in the district.  My Gevurah is to notice but not indulge or brood.  Those woods in the old days were a hidden tangled web, they are not green but wild dark autumnal brown and grey, and in my Watershed they were an eastern sea-board washing up to the hinterland of Haverstock Hill.

What rich untidy rooms to revisit! The story is in my blood stream but not trapped.  That steep wood now is “managed” with constructed paths for walkers and illustrated notices of the foxes, birds and wildlife it harbours.   Around it stand tower-blocks, the Isokon flats and the Royal Free hospital.  I spoke to a joyful couple who saw a woodpecker.  At the top is the ivy clad tower – the chimney, the well which ventilates the Northern Line tunnel deep below.  His spirit in my wandering has this landscape now.  Do the memories hold me back?   No – for I don’t cling to them, but recognise the impression passing through, and monitor changes.  His limited outline in life turns into my Unlimited Life.  That is OK business.   Grey woods.

I walked up the Heath after Belsize but I don’t care for it much – too many people and trampled mud.  Yesterday I typed the Trinosofia chapter Ten and commentary into Aquariel’s Trinosofia Texts page. There is kindling for further deep teachings from the Maestro.

But I am still in the Belsize wood, for out of the damp dark ground comes my old dream about the man in prison and the fishes and the scars on his thumbs and his question about astrology.  He was fettered.  As I write, the force of it fades.  Small eruptions of captured life in death:  the Underground chimney out of which the wound spoke.  There are themes as in a symphony or Sonata form.  At first the poem is silent.  During the night, it ferments and joins up stars and wings.

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In Chapter Ten the initiate dances out from the tomb, striking the inscribed stone lid with his lance or Rod.  I feel the release of the beauty and purity of life through the dead.

The completed drawing: 1 – 9 December 2019. “The drawing depicts the final victory of the spiritualised soul over the limitations of the bodily tomb.  The green garment reveals the adept to be clothed in his illumined soul, which is under the rulership of Venus.  The breastplate bears upon it cryptic letters which mean LIFE.  The Initiate has achieved immortality.  For him the tomb will be forever empty.  He has become one of that small band of the enlightened ‘whom death has forgotten’.
“The Arabic characters on the lid of the coffin admonish the Elect that they should seize upon a certain undesignated mystery ‘when the sixth sign or age is to be the breath.’
“These words evidently refer to the parts of a ritual.  That which is to be seized upon is the ‘master secret of alchemy.’  (MANLY P. HALL)

This was a difficult drawing to realise and then adjust to the scanner’s tonal “interpretation”.  I wanted gleams of  rainbow mother-of-pearl  in the “steam” …  The steam is alchemical condensation: the distillation of an intensity of life.  It heats up into droplets on the athanor, through which sparkles the Sun.

Here is serpent/sperm in egg, with Capricorn/Cancer nodal polarity – on a foliating nest.  (copy of the decoration in the text)

 

It is enough now to touch base with each profound Key of life when it surfaces its poem – like today, the essence of the Bear (34th I Ching Hexagram/Gene Key) – the shadow which is Force transforms through the Gift of Strength to Majesty when I go climbing; and  revisiting the Belsize wood.

I am sure my old friend is free though grumpy at times with what he doesn’t understand. In my heart he is free and that is huge.  As in the smoke on the moon’s face I, the bent and shawled old lady, tend the garden.  Lilies and roses arose.  The heart of any soul when it is huge and untrammelled moves through all other hearts in the deep.  Here I love him. Here in Hades playing my lyre, I need not turn to see if the beloved is following.  I am she unashamed who bears the children, and he has his domain.  The love is gratitude: to scribe each morning the collected poem of yesterday.  Yes to the day!

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Aquariel – an angel of the waters and of the air through the woods of life.

COPYRIGHT – All art and creative writing in this blog is copyright © Janeadamsart 2012-2020. May not be used for commercial purposes. May be used and shared for non-commercial means with credit to Jane Adams and a link to the web address https://janeaquariel.wordpress.com/

Mysteries of Master R (17) – Trinosofia 10: Solar Battery

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I would prefer to add a short succinct impression to Master R’s meditation and Mr Hall’s commentary on Chapter Ten in the Trinosofia Texts (see title bar and scroll down.)  But skimming my journal of the last few days, teachings appear.

These teachings arise spontaneously in the movement with Magid; so here they are:

It came clear to me that we outgrow the need for practices or ritual.  The form was built in during the “lessons” and it is the Tree of Life.  My writing is my body of Light to enter, to travel and to encounter existentially.  Though I feel foggy and groggy, I remember that stepping into body of Light is the Tsim Tsum itself (God beholds God) – step into the unknown day of the Holy One’s room …  Creep along wet autumn ground-leaves among birch and oak like a rabbit.

Master R is near.  I love the simplicity I am brought to – this gradual tentative way to connect.  The so-called weak force (gravity) brings me Home.

Original illustration – Trinosofia Chapter 10

My SOS call to Master R invokes the Tree. Just able to reach Tifareth, again and again I try, not as the talisman the shallow mind proposes, but in the inner work to get the door open again – lift the lid; listen, receive, notice, allow room for the picture to develop.  The Beauty is to be aware of flat-screen habit and consciously observe the depth of field.  The famous tsim tsum genesis of the Holy One to create a space to behold the Holy One  – the big bang – is potential in every instant.

The human linear trap is sad indeed and due for overhaul, and lucky I am to see above the waves sometimes.  The landscape reveals that the Great Change is true.  The present co-dependent infrastructure cannot prevail for long.  Yet there are a vast quantity of rooms for it all;  parallel universes, parallel lives and times work out their span as history erupts.  Mostly we cannot see this and we labour along one groove, in peril or as habit continues to form.  A sea of rooftops and hard roads surrounds us.

It will become a flowering spring wilderness.  As the feelings deepen into my heart the “Thou art God” opens.  So there is the undulating field-and-urban North country landscape (intra-Pennines) with its sharp hills and sprawling industry cities. Most of the people (except for the homeless) are living inside tablets of luxury.  Into the land going deeper are the cracks and creases of wet woodland, a high gritstone crag and clear brown river, even with the paper-mill puffing smoke and lorries up and down the lane. Great moss-covered slabs fell from the cliff and are overgrown. Around the populous twisted valleys gleam the high cold moors.

I feel, seeing the complicated north country, more than ever convinced of the underlying Change, even though the juggernaut grinds on faster than ever against the brake.  I differentiate between my way of seeing and the inertia way of dreaming.  It is natural for the majority to sleepwalk.

Decorations accompanying chapters 10 and 9 in the book.  The pencil notes are jottings from Anthar  Kharana’s teachings for human/Gaia, which I listened to, while I drew.  “Territory in palm of hand lines – transform territory out there by taking care of territory in here. The cells put together form creative blood.  Families … villages … continents.  Transform my Wind, the way I think.  As my actions change, so does the wind and the cloud.  Give attention to the inner waters, the blood flow.  Let’s clean the rivers!  The 4 elements IN HERE start the Change.  The human asked for Light and got the Shadow. (The human gets to illumine the Dark.)  My purpose is taking care of the seeds for the new time.”  (Anthar Kharana, Colombia)

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The Tsim Tsum here is simple.  Step into the room.   The whole movement is an apple, a form of sacred geometry, ever alive and forming itself.  It is for giving. It is as alive and rounded as that, today.  There is no time.  There is ripening and continuous alignment – the Fruit of the Rose.  This is real: not the flat-screen telly product.  Depth, and more depth, in seeing, perceiving, feeling, being – into the crevices of the land and behind the mind.  Illumine and drive out the beetled doubts.

 

I dreamed I walked with my late forgiven and much loved nemesis up a wide path in a wood.  I had just seen a film which moved me, like the 6^th Sun and he had too.  But he was grumpy and said it meant nothing to him.  He was in late middle age, quite tall and bulky, and disappointed that the treasures humans offer him are so slight and superficial.

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I feel concern at my inability to continue a course of esoteric study –  am I losing my Contact?  Too much world and relationships?

Then Master R in his Merlin aspect came to my Flow and said,

“Do you want to stay in a bubble, or do you want to flow as the river?   No course of learning is permanent.  They are means to an end.   The end breaks open the graduation cell, and you feel the world rush in.   It bruises the nerve ends.   I say to you – keep swimming with Providence.   The landscape by which you find me, is roped and ridged with hills and valleys like water stirred by the wind, or ripples in the sand, or waves in the sea, or the grain in the wood.   The hills and valleys have woods, villages and fields.   Convert the solid to fluidity:  be at home in every element – the tumbling cube.    Keep learning to listen, concentrate and ascertain your friend’s need, a situation’s need, without fussing and without suffering:  be flexible.   We assure you – you are never without our regard.  You are never without our guidance.   You have not strayed.   How can you stray?  Where to?

“The oak tree –the red queen pulled Alice – is too vast to run past, however fast you run.   The oak tree is all your life and understanding.

“Consider this – study and working on yourself has little time to stand and gaze at the oak tree in all its glory.   Be this the lesson of this present year:  stand still, raise your head and look – like a deer in the forest.    We packed you full of learning.   Now receive.

“Discard glamour and embrace the Good.  It is for giving.  It is like the oak tree.  The oak tree is life.  Keep going.   Climb up it sometimes.”

Here is Menes – an aspect of Merlin in my world.  He lives on an island in a lake, a smallholder, and he can live on very little – I wondered there, about his supplies.  But the ancient and new wisdom is self-generating, without need for much “supplies”.  It is the interior crystal or power and nourishment source. All it needs is to wake up to and tune in to where it hums.  It is there: the conscious battery-cell.  There are some outward forms to make it manifest – like harvesting apples and keeping bees – but it is timelessly easier.  There is little resistance.

Like Master R he is adequately fuelled by oats, honey and fresh water.   I am sure he keeps hens.   He presses strong cider from his fruit trees.   He is quite busy.  Profoundly Virgoan, he somehow manages to grow and grind enough oats and wheat for his bread, and for visitors. He has the gift of the Magidim to expand his present supply – the well never empties.   It is the Way of handling the physical environment, a way of touch.   I can learn everything from this, to nourish the way I accompany my loved ones.

Such a being is maintained physically through his well-fed students.   We give him manifestation.  It is a high Beriatic Law which in lower Yetzirah gets perverted to vampirism.   Vampirism is not just Dracula tales, it is rampant through ignorance in relationships and the commercial world.   But the Law between student/disciple and the Inner-plane being, is the Law of love – a two-way current of regeneration.   As Ramesh Balsekar used to say, there is no Guru until the devotee discovers and makes him so.   Guru manifests in dialogue, in relationship.  Guru takes shape and eternal fluid form, according to the desire for space, for peace and interior contact.

The interior contact established, is Antakharana or pipeline for the Maestri.   It is the conduit from an electron orbit of life, to a higher one.  Through Daat on the Tree, the quantum leaps. Profound distress is often the prompt.   Out of the depth we cry to thee, and we leap.

Parker Stafford, a glass worker whose writings waken the Infinite, wrote to me once – his own hermit speaking:  “… a peculiar way of learning to see or look … can stir the two energies enough to get them moving in this grand experience which is awakening – which is the heart of alchemy in the body.  Bringing them forward in this way is like connecting the negative and positive ends of a battery.  The light comes on.

“… perhaps you are ready to die to that tight restrictive self you have inhabited bubble … snake skin … constantly being shed over and over … perhaps ready to watch the shell of it slip into the deep quiet as rays of light beckon for you to reach up into the sparkling surface of what is, in truth, a great ocean of cosmic consciousness … a sea we all swim in whether we know it or not.  You lose only what does not serve you …”

The battery comes on, as the poles are touched.   This feeling I know well;  and when it comes on gently, it conducts.

I had an old fascination with a dark woody twig, wand or pole, which is the battery to awake.   When it is awake, it is simple; no skins to shed – the battery and the Light.   The  torch illumining the coal face is SO SIMPLE.  The old relationship was a battery.  It battered, and light came.  But it is actually a little long-life battery cell with + and – ends. The couple sleep head to toe. My nature converted it to original light and power, not just a congealed memory.   Thus it is not an attachment but an instrument.   “Convert” is the root of “conversation”.

The token offered this morning is RESPONSE, as in the button pressed which joins the poles and gives light.  My solar battery is the pair of snakes around the staff;  the battery is the Fountain:  the battery is Kether-Malkuth.

This is a sequence of battery paintings in my past work – lovers costing too much blood, the snake, the horse cantering round the mud, the naked She sitting by it, the torches at the coal face … and perhaps the male thrusting through the wall, the shaman forest and the heart-strings.

Clearly, I use a CONVERTER.

To CONTINUE

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Copy of a design in the pages of the Trinosofia Chapter 10

Aquariel – an angel of the waters and of the air through the woods of life.

COPYRIGHT – All art and creative writing in this blog is copyright © Janeadamsart 2012-2019. May not be used for commercial purposes. May be used and shared for non-commercial means with credit to Jane Adams and a link to the web address https://janeaquariel.wordpress.com/