Covid19 – a Creative Contemplation

“Tree of Life – Coronavirus” by Kabbalahsociety.org:  a study of the phenomenon in principle through the Sefiroth, and the potential of our collective and individual response to it.

This post contains a meditation to hopefully assist in surmounting (or transforming) Covid19. My way in this is supplementary to the other more obvious precautions. If the words don’t resonate for you, or the language is strange, reflect on just the images and pictures.

This morning I think there must be viral chaos in my system;  all the usual bugs ferment and compete with our ubiquitous Covid visitor.  Along with its biological origin there has formed by now an emotional “carriage”  where the psyche interfaces with the physical body; a collective expectation.

This happens through capillaries of “Daat” (unknown cognition or Union), rather like the interlacing branches of trees, chorionic villae of the womb or flora of the lungs.  It thrives where the receptors of Spirit and body interact.   The region between material and mental worlds (Assiyah and Yetzirah in Kabbalah) sends a message of “yes” or “no” or “not sure” to the visitor.

I feel over-sensitive – have I got a dry chest or not?  This isn’t about being tough and repellent.  It is about being precise, to find a way to see and step around the viper in the room.  The way is gentle as the Tao and often feels weak and upset.

I received deep wisdom over many years with the Power of the Gentle.  You can let things pass through you, without building up the stress against them which admits them for bed and breakfast.   Even when the heavy anxiety rules my thoughts it can pass in the same way.  All phenomena rise, settle, change and fade.  This in theory is practice; of course it is touch and go.

Listen to my flesh and bones whether we want to step out of doors today or not.   The chores are done for the moment.   The battery on my Mac seems not to be an emergency – that was a great worry.  This evening there is an online transmission about emotional alchemy as a Covid prophylactic. Will it tell me anything I’m not doing or being already?  I am wired into the antiviral waveband whether I catch the disease or not.  The healing thought forms being put out are ubiquitous and creative.

We all have the virus in our system, unless we live in a desert;  how do I react to it?  The collective fear cloud may have enriched the breeding-ground.   I do not have control over my unconscious, but I do have feelers down into Her – the Priestess in the Tarot reflection (see below) is the harbour.  My interior susceptibility rises and falls.

Rose Egg gives me a little earthing practice.  The rose quartz in my centre of gravity feels en-whole-ing.  A subtle silk thread of joy gleams back into my root.  Find your own centre and spin the thread as you will.

Tarot oracle reflection – circa 20 March 2020

 

THE MEDITATION

Settle a place anywhere inside where you feel at home – in your own body, in one you love or in your house – and cultivate it tenderly.  Water it like a planted tree.

Nothing more is needed – just this plug-in point to source.  I am like an electric car !   Meditation – the woman of Tarot 17 – happens without my doing anything.  The silver current flows and warms my core.  It plants me in a space of potential ecstasy;  a Now.

The Tarot Fool Aleph breasts everything adventurously along the line of Earth and Sky.  He carries his spine, his staff jauntily over his shoulder along a slanted ray from the White Sun – echoing the angle of Ankh and Key in last weekend’s Dakini Oracle – and when he is tired he can sit down and rest against the spinal Staff and recharge.

Wherever I rest my spine is in contact with every other surface of the whole world.

To contemplate the Fool in the BOTA Tarot is the deck’s natural antidote for depression.  He uplifts every condition.  He moves along the mountain tops at dawn to connect …

I was depleted by the end of yesterday, but now recharging.  The things which deplete are emergencies which rise and fall through fantasy and construct.  I LOVE.  I marvel at this strange phenomenon I am, constantly producing my thread as I write from spider’s tail, from silkworm, from the Store of Beauty.  Isn’t it a strange sensitivity to detect a slight vibration which emanates from a rose quartz lens within.  It stills the thought process and I enter the Medium ship.

Orpheus – November 1987

My fingertips on the keyboard writing this are quiet, skilled antennae.  They as seaweed float in the sea while attached to the Rock of my embodiment. I am cautious to use my tools only when I can be sure to fully attend to them and not get distracted by my life-stories, thought-loads or passing mental tensions.  It actually waterfalls through my system like a pulse.  It can be detected by and through the in-tuning.  Why is this?  It is because  healing is a two-way process, a dialogue, a relationship entered into and committed to from both sides.  When I walk truly a step, the Holy One mirrors it with 20 or 1000 strides.   Am I able to see?

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So as the Lighthouse is received, may the Lamp travel to those who need it, out there on the sea.  May it unite us and give hope to all the mariners.   Naturally I feel rather strange with the Signal transmitting through my metal.   The metal is the Mercurial rod in body-mind.  It is an attractor-shield.  Micro-organisms falling on metal live and thrive and they meet corpuscles of Light which engulf them.  I LOVE again.

The Medium ship is the Grail ship, she berths gently alongside the rocks.  The sea rocks the vessel up and down as I step on board, I am cloaked.  She has a square sail and on her fo’castle is carried the Grail.  Sometimes you can see the Grail and sometimes not.  The Grail is a Cup-like presence whose form flows and changes with the Light.  I take my seat on a crimson velvet throne amidships.  The anchor is drawn and we slip out from the rocks.  The voyage with the Grail is inner silence and willingness.  I know not whither we go – to investigate that, would be to invent, and it would harden obscuring thought forms.

I am given to the going and to the being.  It is up to the Archangels where this goes.

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goddess with triton – circa 1957

The Archangels transform to Tritons, mostly invisible, who lead the ship, the Goddess.  I do not know what the Archangels are doing for others, but I am willing with the ship of Light, their vessel of solace to those unknown.  The Priestess wears their Compass over her heart; the four directions.  Prayer is the willing to be silent.

The Hermit standing in the dark night upon summit snows looks not at what his upraised lamp illumines for others on the path, but deeply into his own heart.  He grasps the Way-shower’s staff firmly in his strong left hand – the subconscious side.  He wears the masculine cap of Yod whose Tantra (art of touch) is coloured blue; it is permeated with the Priestess.

Have a care to each thing I touch in life – to venerate and receive its quality.   Marvellous are the fingers and their tree-like sinews and delicacy; the digital miracle.  Slowly, slowly!   May the healing currency flow to fingertips in the dark sky, and into the etheric Beyond.

Orpheus – November 1987

The Tree of Life is my drawing board:  Crown, Wisdom, Understanding, Mercy, Severity, Beauty, Victory, Splendour, Foundation and the Queendom … with all the operational triads and paths of life that link these spheres in sacred geometry.

Pollen is carried from flower to flower, from male to female in the tail; and also the honey and the sting of the bees.   The Magus in the garden of lily and rose carries the Hebrew letter of BEIT, meaning a house or dwelling.  He is the cable sheathing the electric current of ALEPh the Fool.  The Magus conducts lightning with his wand and points with his other hand to Earth.  Mother Earth, Thou art my body.  We empathise and suffer now all the regions where the over-prolific human has choked Thee.  Make them stay indoors and seek inner refuge and resolution, for your little ones to breathe and to grow back.

Nature’s power and practice of recovery astounds me. Sometimes Nature takes over and master-minds a dark paranoid thought-form to weaken the blind human dominant and its infrastructure for a while.   What buds beneath this?  Persons who turn to help each other in the emergency, and who grow long arms to embrace each other across widening gaps of the seas.

The tools are on the garden table: kindness, practical imagination, adaptation and thinking out of the box.  Only turn to look!  Next to the Rod, Cup and Sword is the Pentacle; our earth currency coin to live by.  The hoes, forks and trowels are to hand, to tend the springtide in the ground.   The spring is rising through every spinal stem.  It makes me feel peculiar.  It trembles and puts out boughs and buds.  The blackbird sings.

An early sketch of young Ramana, the Mother and Siva with trident

She, the woman by the well, is mother naked.  Seven stars which bathe the chakras in her spine – these seven stars encircle an eighth, a Star of Infinity.  The well is an infinite source within the ground; the Tree’s questing, fountaining taproot. A galactic spiral ripples across it:  the galaxy – the Milky Way.

That is the Law we are truly under, and we come to know first-hand its liberating confinement.

The Law upholds and contains a strange evolutionary quickening throughout the greater Universe of which our problem on Earth is a particle.  The matter is simple.   Select between the dark obscurity and the Light.  In due course all of us choose the Light, without which we cannot breathe.  Find it in simple, unselfish acts.  Touch your children and improvise with the restricted livelihood.  Blossom and Zoom.   The teachers of Five Rhythms now dance online, for us to dance at home.  Be at home and discover your Self!

We can do this here and there.  In other places it is desperately difficult.  Even if you are a homeless person with hungry expectancy fixed on every passer by … retreat when you can, to find your root in the ground, to feel proactively your bum on the pavement, and the condition might begin to alter.  Only the thinnest veil of belief divides us from the Magic of the Miraculous Life where all is serendipitous and someone arrives with an open hand; an offer of a job.

Catch the light of stars and pour it on the ground to mirror them.  As above, so it is below!

Overlooking the whole “reading” – as apex of a pyramid – is planted again the Hermit in the Upper Worlds with his lamp of Grace.  The Lighthouse shows the way.

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In Tarot alchemy, the Hermit rules Virgo and the womb and intestinal region.  Consider the actual purity and sweetness of all interior fluids and substances before they leave my body into the rot and decay and prejudiced engraving of my outer life.  Enjoy their secretion and their action.  I am a walking well.

This startling thought arrived, with the essence of what the old alchemists advised one another through sigil and symbol.  I think it is what they meant when they said, “Do not let the dew touch the ground.”  In the mystery of our corporeal body are held secrets of the Sun’s Action and of the Philosopher’s Stone which our conditioning life is mostly blind to.  A very different attitude may be cultivated, to decondition our blindness.

Against panic stockpile of lavatory paper and the sacrifice of trees for instance, what of the Indian way with left hand, soap and water? Consciousness is economy.

Scriptural interpretations east and west, have sorely misled us through the ages.  Our physical bodies are not misery, dirt, disease and guilt to “ascend” away from, or to compulsively “exercise”.  We are bodies of Light.  When I walk, when I climb the rocks, indoor walls or trees, when I feel the sunshine and rain, when I am indoors, when I stroll home at night or write my journal in the morning, I sometimes feel and am that – the body of Light.

I offer this contemplative idea regarding awareness and respect for the actual purity and cosmic regulation in our interior body, as a profound and supportive antiviral measure.   It arose spontaneously, and I feel within it the Treasure of the Well.

As we become willing to start to transmute this and other embedded attitudes into an unexpected wonder and un-knowing, you and I are truly SAFE AND WELL.

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Ceres and John (1987)

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https://slippedisc.com/2020/03/believe-it-orchestra-plays-beethoven-9th-from-their-homes/

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/

 

 

 

Hashaq: A Tree of the Tao

Firstly: A Reminder –

“The Time of the Sixth Sun” collecting together many elders and sages of the global human community was first launched in April 2019 and again on 6 November by Theo van Dort, Nikki Luna and Uquala, for two weeks. A wonderful and unique heart-opener about positive environmental initiatives and new technologies around the world – spiritual, community and scientific. Profoundly recommended!  For more information and to keep in touch, visit timeofthesixthsun.com

The full package is now available to buy until 6 December 2019
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HASHAQ – A TREE OF THE TAO
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In this beautiful award-winning film by Bibi, now on Vimeo
the ocean breathes through her silent dance with the Tree of life,
combining the ancient movements of Tao and Kabbalah

Bibi is my dear friend and soul sister;  a grandmother, a visionary gardener of her life.  She is an inspired teacher of Qi Gong and practitioner of Tai Chi.  Our friendship  began just 30 years ago in Warren Kenton’s contemplative group the Kabbalah society.  We have embraced Ramana Maharshi’s kettle, our problematic menfolk, Gene Keys and the Goddess’s divine sitcom slapstick on planet earth.

Bibi (Barbara Brown) is co-author of Qi Gong: The Chinese Art of Working with Energy (Harper-Collins 2001).  She wrote two superb novels: Looking for Doris (The Tenth Bull 2008) and Han returns to Earth (Bodytao Imprint 2013).

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Above is my impression of the ninth-century tao sage Han-Shan.

In his time he inscribed his wisdom in the trees, stones and waters of Cold Mountain:

The final glimpse of me was when I disappeared through a crack in the rock, avoiding the official Lu-Ch’iu Yin who was sending food, incense and clothes to my two companions Big Stick and Pick-Up.  I left behind poetry written on bamboo, rocks and the walls of people’s houses.  I left behind memories of my wild hair, birch bark hat, patchwork robe, big wooden clogs and gnarled staff …“.

Bibi’s book “Han returns to Earth” developed over a period during which a wise voice counselled her from within, with poetic precision over the field.  Descending to visit her new book, Han-shan is the author’s companion of the Light. With compassion and humour, he observes from outside time the relationship tensions of 21st century human beings in North London –  an unobtrusive alchemical catalyst.

For a while, you could  ask Han a question on his blog,  I did, a few years ago. The reply was most helpful.  For now, if you want to know more about him and about Bibi’s work including Hashaq and the three books, go to her website http://www.bodytao.co.uk.

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This is my painting for the cover of Bibi’s earlier book Looking for Doris:

…  for her creative mentor Doris Lessing:

Doris Lessing

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In this post I planned a series of trees, rocks and rivers to accompany Bibi’s beautiful presentation of Hashaq.  But our old friend Han dropped in, and changed everything. I do hope you will visit him, as well as enjoying Bibi’s silent dance by the sea.

It is profoundly restful to replant the fluid spine and breathe the salt.

Mother-waters!  The goddess rises everywhere on earth.

Woman awakening in the night (2015) – detail

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Poem No.268 from Cold Mountain by Han-Shan:

Ever since I ‘left home’
bit by bit I’ve acquired an interest in nourishing life.

I’ve stretched and drawn back, making my four limbs whole;
with diligence listened, making my six senses complete.

My coarse woollen robe is with me winter and spring;
unpolished rice sustains me morning and night.

Today, earnest and eager, I practice,
hoping to run into the Buddha.

Translation by Robert G Herricks
“The Poetry of Han-shan –
a complete annotated translation of Cold Mountain”
(c) 1990, State University of New York

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Parvati waters Trees – Seven of Lotuses in The Sacred India Tarot Deck, copyright Yogi Impressions 2011

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My feeling just now is like Hashaq: silence. Indeed today Mercury stands still. The connection is full and warm.  It is like milk, it seems to stretch the perineum, a slight earthy ache of rootedness, of reluctance to do anything.   Nothing in all human knowledge and spirituality is fixed in rock. Nothing is the final or definitive version.   Time of attending may be a minute or an hour, it is all the same, it flows.  It is blessed.  It is the thanksgiving.  The angel’s Tantra lowers warm wings into Aquariel.  The silence of angel’s feathers!  The sensitive dermis inside seems to fill and to stretch.  Woman’s work is to stretch and to let it come through. Human fences of time’s duration and enclosure are irrelevant.  Be still and know I am God.  I am You. I am what I utterly do not know. Not knowing is now.

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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 2012-2019. 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/

 

 

 

Snow drops in February …

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snowdrop bowl

I dreamed of an enormous field of rich green grass, quite hummocky, in which just two or three big dark cows or bulls grazed abundantly.  I also dreamed of a healing or esoteric adventure with some companions – we went out along the street to another house.  I wore my white cotton robe.  I forgot to put my shoes on, so my feet were bare on the February pavement, washed with recent snow.  A younger woman held my left hand.  When I woke, I thought – I am this older mature woman place space, to occupy and be her!  I have no other choice in all the world.

fountain tree breath

Move into the soft and problematic space and be her conscious choice:  the electron state moves into orbital wave-particle – the standwave.   In fact we but rarely LIVE INSIDE OUR SELVES!   We live and work and struggle around the gap.  We smear the mobile displacement with cosmetics, clothes, dubious glamours and doubts.

My body of light is here and now the waterfall:  the local bloodstream is connected through the subtle body, with every “other” flow of Life.   Standunder the Waterfall.

On a browse in blogland, I dropped onto this image of a white waterfall.  For anyone in my concern, surround them with the descending White Water light.  It is beautifully simple.  For my unwanted thoughts and worries, bathe them likewise.  Deluge them with light and the lemon tree.

And what is animism?  The awakened human root in nature … plants, soils, weathers, smells and stars … the moon bathes the land’s poetry, dark trees, nine cold sea waves to swim under;  the fiery potions of soil, the song of the blood.   These are earthy pulsating impressions of the Spirit – Venus hula-hoop.   My aura begins to heal – shadows to pass.  When aura is well she is vibrant, of a springy turfy rainbow mixture.  Then the river in my local body flows, rich in loam, sorceries and silence, irrigating roots of all the Trees.

At other times of the day, she feels old, flat, tired and smudgey.

venus hulahoop

I watched on TV a Grand Design about a couple restoring a remote ruined castle in Yorkshire – a fragile shell:  grass and small trees crumbled its remaining turrets.  They had to contend with the Saturnine slow plod of English-heritage permissions, archaeology and extra cost.  They were at the edge of financial ruin.  The inside of the castle collapsed to rubble during the work.  But the masonry and new stonework – dovetailed delicately into the old, during two years of Yorkshire weather and mud – was wonderful to see.  The ruin transformed to a home of enduring Beauty.   They had to make it into a classy b&b to pay for itself and the long labour of love.  They are in hock for the rest of their lives.  It has a wonderful open view of green undulating grass, trees and cattle – not a house or hedge to be seen.

lily in field & tower Emblem 7

Think of someone and – silently, see the Tree.  No more is necessary.  Lilies are also sorrow.  The Tree of Life is the waterfall of light up and down … any problem small or large.  White waterfall, green tree.

11 vizier in palace j&d5

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In conversation with the devas, white witches give the same time and concentration to their altars and the Moon’s journey and the festivals, that I do to my writing.  My writing is a daily “shrine”, a little of which I share.   For the umpteenth time – resolve to keep my house cleaner and tidier and more cherished, get some regular domestic habits …

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Snowdrops, fox and owl_2

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On Separation, but Pushing Upward

Why do I feel sad and bitter and weak?  Why so dragged down?  I should be relieved and energised, having decided! – having discussed, agreed, and to keep in touch – it is time to let go of each other, and move on.

Logic cannot fathom the tones, and the links and pathways a partnership forms, however unconventional or difficult;  the years and days of expectation, bonds of joy, anger, confusion, toil and love, grown organic in the psychic body like the green-stuff in the crumbling castle turrets – all stored by repetition in the subconscious.

At this level, bereavement drags my steps.   Oh!  All the protect-him hassle!  That is a tough old rope which binds, but it dawns on me, that seeing the cookie crumble, he shrugs shoulders and does not grieve, nor miss me.  He is an adventurer, and the time for a new adventure dawns.

It was a task of the soul.  The love I gave to his trouble, over the years, reaches its mark, about now.  Does he recognise this, or thank me?   No.  But he does thank God – and that is the whole point.  He thanks God for his inner strength.  The soul we “practice with” keeps God in sight.  Of course I am personally FURIOUS that he says I am and always was, selfish.  This helps me “wash that man out of my hair”.

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A few nights ago, I dreamed I saw many foxes in a London field … more and more appeared, behind each others’ sylvan comings and goings in the grass and the sly street.  The Fox and the Owl are my old familiars.

owl dance fox

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There is also an ebbing of … the familiar creative pulsating tide which fills my mornings and in the afternoon is an empty beach.  A male YANG half – a binary I was used to being part of – fades away from my side.   The process is matter of fact;  the fragility tenuous and tenacious.  I find it helpful to contemplate that a projected YANG is gone, leaving a space beside my YIN.   Now!   Wherever I am on my way to, the details come in one by one, to take care of. Recognising my writing is my prayer and craft – no need to load my shrine, but perhaps watch again the planets and Moon around the zodiac … new practice.   What is this part of me now available for? 

I Ching I think!

The oracle refines and reiterates the Water over Water I got last weekend.  This morning, 46, Pushing Upward – earth over the wind – dissolves to 29, the Water over Water again.   The abyss, the ravine, the river’s destiny.

I ching 26.2.13

Wood (the wind trigram) pushes upward through Earth – a vertical effort with the Will.  Modesty, adaptability – the time is propitious.  Heap up small things one by one, to achieve the high and great, without haste and without rest.

Old Yang in 3rd changes to Yin:  I push upward into an empty city!  It proceeds with ease – profit by the propitious moment.

Old Yin in 5th, all used-up, changes to Yang-creative-tangible – keep sober, step by step as if hesitant.  The Earth trigram floods to the strong current of water/dangerous.   The wind of the wood blows steadily up through the winter ground, the open YIN earth.  The movement is into the power of a great river flowing (hexagram 29).

Body tree tao

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The wind is the Tree of Life, whose roots are nourished by the Great Water.  You don’t have to cross the great water, for you already are.  The old sages of the Tao appeared hesitant, YIN and shy.  They ford the streams cautiously.  The cosmos flows through them unobstructedly.  This is the Power – when the personal power seems at her lowest ebb.

old tao sage

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To honour my YIN fragility feeling in full, permits spontaneous YANG.  Pushing upward is the YIN way of invincible growth, as in February’s spring …

Snowdrop 1969 - detail

Tao T’ai Ching 15

“The ancient adepts of the Tao were subtle and flexible, profound and comprehensive.
Their minds were too deep to be fathomed.
Because they are unfathomable,
one can only describe them vaguely by their appearance.

small flower

“Hesitant like one wading a stream in winter;
timid like one afraid of his neighbours on all sides;
cautious and courteous like a guest;
yielding like ice on the point of melting,
simple like an uncarved block;
hollow like a cave;
confused like a muddy pool …

“And yet who else could quietly and gradually evolve from the muddy to the clear?
Who else could slowly but steadily move from the inert to the living?

“He who keeps the Tao does not want to be full.
But precisely because he is never full,
he can always remain like a hidden sprout,
and does not rush to early ripening.

shrine..

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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 2012-2013. 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/