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For Llewellyn and Anat Vaughan-Lee. May their work continue to beacon out Seeding Light.





The Dark Sun


Spiral of Becoming




Gathering Together


Being Present


Tree of Life




Return of The Warrior Spirit


Enfolding Angels


The Single Eye That Sees


Dawn Matrix


Seeds of Light



Hopi Elderâ€&#x;s Prophecy 2000 To my fellow swimmers: there is a river flowing now very fast. It is so great and swift, that there are those who will be afraid. They will try to hold on to the shore, they will feel that they are being torn apart and they will suffer greatly. Know that the river has its destination. The elders say we must let go of the shore, push off into the middle of the river, and keep our heads above water. And I say, see who is there with you and celebrate. At this time in history we are to take nothing personally, least of all ourselves for the moment we do, our spiritual growth and journey come to a halt. The time of the lone wolf is over, gather yourselves! Banish the word struggle from your attitude and vocabulary. All that we do now must be done in a sacred manner and in celebration.

For we are the ones we have been waiting for.


INTRODUCTION This compilation of writings and images have emerged from a number of small gatherings held in the West Country and London over the last four years. The inspiration for these groups came from the words in the Hopi Prophecy where we are told that „the time of the lone wolf is over‟ and „to gather yourselves‟, but primarily from the teachings and writings of Llewellyn Vaughan-Lee on the need for the return of the feminine in our lives and world. Llewellyn has continuously stressed that there is a work that only women can do and that if that work is not done, then something new cannot be born at this time. As is the nature of the feminine, you don‟t get an instruction manual on how to do this: with any deep connection to the feminine this comes naturally out of a direct lived experience, when we are fully present in the moment. What occurred to me was to invite a number of women friends to come together for a weekend, as an exploration into „ being‟, and life has responded in the most remarkable and unexpected ways that have touched us all. Life is so hungry for our full participation and wholehearted engagement. Mostly these gatherings have taken place in women‟s homes, we arrive with food to share and an intention to be open and receptive to whatever happens. We have also learnt to watch what unfolds when we step back into our everyday lives and not to see these weekends as something separate, that ends when we climb in the car and drive home. Each gathering so far has had in its mix several friends from the (Sufi) group and this has been an essential ingredient. For together we are naturally able to create and hold a 'space'. I have watched how the space 'opens' and how a certain quality of presence that is born out of our connection to the Path is tangible. Over time we are being shown how to work in this new way and the work continues to surprise us as it continuously unfolds and deepens. Inherent in each group so far there has been an implicit challenge from life: To move away from the personal To take responsibility for the life of the whole and for what we have done To dare to live who we really are „to be magnificent and unafraid‟ To live with a prayer of remembrance for the world and for life as a whole To live in service to life Again and again we are confronted with this question: How low can you bow? Making this selection has been very hard as life is neither linear nor necessarily sequential but here is a taste for you….





THE DARK OR BLACK SUN The Dark or Black Sun has arisen as one of the primary archetypes for this new era of the world and for humanity. It speaks of the mystery behind and within all creation: that of the divine light hidden in matter. The symbol of the Dark or Black Sun evokes all that is in potential regarding this next stage of evolution, which is an evolution of consciousness. The Dark Sun is found at the deepest place within the Earth. It is the mystery of the womb of creation and the mystery of The Great Mother 'giving birth to herself'. Giving birth in the same sense as a human being is 'born again' when their heart awakens to its Divine nature. In life re- awakening, life is both giving birth and being reborn into a new level of awareness of its true sacred nature. The Dark Sun also speaks of the mystery of the 'heart‟s hidden vault', the divine within a human being, of how 'God longing to be known hid Himself within the heart of man'. The Alchemists refer to the Black Sun as Sol Nigra, or the Sun at Midnight, the midday sun referring to this manifest world and the midnight sun to the un-manifest. They also speak of the culmination of the visible sun, taking place at noon, and that of the Sol Nigra, or 'spiritual sun', occurring at midnight. On the mystical journey of the individual back to God. the Black Sun is also seen as representing 'the dark night of the soul', the stripping away and letting go of any worldly attachments, spiritual illusions and delusions, until one discovers the kind of faith that can pass through even the darkest hour, 'the one who can hang by the silken thread and not be moved, even when the hurricane comes'. The Black Sun is to encounter the darkest side of love and the destructive side of God. We can regard the sun in the sky and experience all light as coming from this single source and know that 'all light' emanates from the One God, whereas an encounter with the Dark Sun is to experience the 'dazzling darkness', the fullness of light where any notion of a single separate self is annihilated. Here there is no single source of light to be named or fixed, but only the unknowable Void out of which everything arises, the divine as the unknowable, omnipotent mystery that the mind cannot comprehend, yet whose face is to be found „wheresoever we turn‟.

The sight of a total eclipse in the heavens can serve to remind us of the Dark Sun. With the moon passing in front of the sun such an occurrence can be viewed as representing a „coniunctio‟, the union of the masculine and feminine elements, and thereby reconnect us to the mystery behind creation and the agency that brings everything into being. My initial encounter with the Dark Sun was in 2002 and again at the first Anima Mundi seminar in London given by Ulrike Pahl in 2005 During the active imagination I was taken to the very core of the Earth to witness the 'Black Sun Rising'. At the time it was utterly confounding, the potency and impact of this archetypal encounter impossible to ignore. This only increased when I spoke to several other people who had similar dreams or visions. As a result a few of us decided to meet up for a whole day in order to „sit‟ and „be‟ with this archetype, holding a space of unknowing alongside a willingness to engage. That day set the foundation for all the gatherings that have followed. Our experiences of the Dark Sun have opened us more fully to awe, touching as we have in moments the mystery behind creation, and to experiences of the divine sparks present in every atom of creation. These sparks or scintillas are the Lumen Naturae, the light in nature. This light is that of the world‟s soul, the Anima Mundi, and its source the Dark Sun impregnating matter. This 'light', these scintillas are not experienced as coming from a single source like the sun in the sky, but as present in everything all at the same time, from a source that is everywhere and in everything in every moment, God Immanent Maybe we started to call it dark light or developed a notion of the Black Sun when we split spirit from matter, for then the sacred nature of life became veiled and most of Humanity is now unaware of its existence. Generally we have lost the capacity to see this hidden light. Maybe it became dark because in turning away from the divine we are now too blind in our hubris and ignorance to perceive it.


Dark Sun Will you say yes to the Heart‟s true yearning? A Yes! That takes you down and out and far beyond Your „need for safety‟ self. Down into the deepest dark, Right to the core of mystery, The Sunspot eye at this Earth‟s core, The Black Sun at the centre Devastation deep, Its flares, the dark fire of creation and dark passion. Only a heart true in service to the Real Can venture here, Down into the Void Desolation deep. This womb of life, Creation‟s cauldron. Dreadful maw That eats back all time‟s tumult. As you watch, Remember His Remembrance is All. Remembrance is the moted spark that ignites The light hidden in dark matter, Catalyst of all that‟s coming and longing Into form. Just as you can watch the flow of your life‟s breath, Breathe you into being every moment. Watch as this darker breath crosses the threshold of your blood To penetrate every cell, To kiss the sun speck hidden in the blackness at the centre. The current of this unseen wind Flows into the dark place within woman To fan the spark of new life just ignited, Making it glow, making it grow, Future‟s child. So it is with all of life This Child of the moment. A new unknown, conceived in the emptiness at the hub And nub of all things. Will you breathe and weave the spark of your divine remembrance Into Time? To set the heart of the World Singing, Ringing, bringing Soul to form. Form from out of formlessness is this Time‟s challenge.


Can you fathom any of this? To sit with Unknowing. It‟s like seeing with your skin when Your day world eyes are blind, This new treasure wrought in the dazzling darkness at this Earth‟s core, And from your body‟s wisdom, Ancient, ageless. How? you ask. Yet there you sit digesting your breakfast. Just how do you do that? Likewise the ego and mind have no part in this. Something within you stirs, something primal, Yet so ordinary. The ordinary and the extraordinary wedded together in each moment Heralds Birth. Can you go yet deeper? Plummeting the depths of desolation and despair To comprehend a Darker Deity? Dropping all those cosy notions of a God Sitting comfy on a cloud, all unknowing. There is but One Lord terrifying in His Majesty. Lord of the Primal Emptiness Lord of the Winds that blow through the Vastness Lord of Non-Being Lord of this violent Universe Violent in all its passion expressions of His Oneness! His darkness could eat up all your tiny notions of the world in any moment. Just in an instant. You are living at Annihilation‟s edge! But do not know it! Still worrying over trifles: The bills, what to wear, Or whether will it rain. Wake! to the Realisation Of His primal powers here! See the Divine Dark Sun In all creation! Awe and terrifying beauty Dancing in the Ocean‟s swell of A dreadful love So uncompromising Demanding nothing less than your whole self In service to the whole. Bow down or bow out !


The Light Is Slipping Out Of The World Like a full eclipse of the Sun at noon, This long shadow stalks from West to East To compass the whole Globe. The birds of hope and aspiration Fall with the temperature Plummeting out of a sky Draining all blood and life‟s colours Into terror‟s murky hues. The light of Humanity once beaconed out Now shrunk, a barely discernable flicker, Fading fast in the vortex of this storm, A storm beyond all imagining That‟s dragging at our senses, As they strive to screen out Its inexorable inevitability. This Dark Sun that‟s rising Has eclipsed the ego of our grasping mind Though we wilfully deny it! This Dark Sun Bright as a diamond in the making The weight of all our faithless forgetting Is forcing down Forging down This Mystery!


Dark Sun Rising Dissolve as snow Melting on the mountain Into earth mound Into Earth. Sink down deep Until you drop into the ocean Of the Universe at the centre. In the blackness of that Void Witness this Dark Sun that is rising Both here and there.





SPIRAL OF BECOMING At the start of this millennium many more voices were added to those already speaking of this time as one of great challenge and potential, with the possibility of many new doors opening. Much talk has been of a transformation in consciousness, of „a Great Turning‟, heralding in a new cycle in the evolution of the Earth and for Humanity. The compilation in this book has been made at a point where there has been a noticeable shift in the nature of our gatherings that seems to have coincided with our collective failure as Humanity to take the necessary leap and wake up to any real responsibility for all our greed and the terrible consequences that this has wrought on the physical and spiritual body of this our world. There was noticeably a period of time just before the first gathering when the image of the spiral seemed to meet me at every turn. This was so marked that eventually I set aside a whole day to explore more fully the nature of spirals. I drew them, I danced them, I surrounded myself with images of spiralling galaxies, with coiling sea-shells and flowers. I watched the movement of water flowing down the kitchen sink. I trawled images on the Internet for early cave art, ritual body tattoos, paintings and any descriptions of them. I thought about the cyclic rhythm of the body, the seasons and of time. I reflected at length on how a straight line represents a quality of the masculine, and a circle the feminine. When they come together there is this spiralling dance, the dance of Shiva, the dance of creation bringing things to form. I thought about the path that the pilgrim takes in walking a labyrinth and the path of the wayfarer back to God. For many hours the spirals seemed only to have movement in a couple of planes, either upwards or downwards, in or out, above or below. However, there was a moment right at the end of the day when the spiral moved from an inner plane outwards. I felt a movement directly into the body at the level of the chest and enter my heart. When this happened there was an „Aaah!‟, a visceral moment of „knowing‟, something in me just knew the spiral: this was a felt sense, not something I could have given any rational explanation to at the time. What the spiral spoke was of life in potential and of something completely new moving closer to our consciousness but as yet without a recognisable concrete form. It was a Spiral of Becoming .


The first gathering was held some weeks later and during each subsequent gathering it is as if we are on a new turn of the spiral, looking at life from a new perspective or slant. We are being shown how to open and be with and welcome this new unknown. The primary archetype underlying this „movement‟ has as previously mentioned been that of the Dark Sun, which came so strongly to the fore in 2002. Then in October of last year (2010) there was a dramatic and sudden shift in the life of the whole that was reflected in these groups, images of a „blood red dawn‟ started to emerge and it quickly became apparent that we, that is Humanity and all of life, have stepped over a threshold. It is as if a line was drawn, a light flickered and died, and all that was familiar now lies behind us, a thing of the past. There is a terror and freedom in this.


No History Books No history books No sorry tales No whatever we are told To allow an argument unfold. No more this is me an Irishman A landed king or queen - it‟s an old scene, Been here for so long the curtain rail has fallen Time zones gone long past the piping post. Old ghosts walking the planes The pains the terrible hungers forest fires, Old habitual liars scribing delusions confusions Illustrious illusions of, it‟s like this it‟s like that – Let‟s put it in our witches‟ pot and boil till it‟s all forgot, Forgotten – gone rotten in the compost heap. Shear the sheep. Let‟s no more weep for people who set up a war machine Of killing that has become accepted. Release me from the chains of false gold Sold, sold, sold and sold. Oh no more looking back making Pillars of salt dotting landfills full of rubbish. Oh no more looking back. Sure that‟s a strange direction to point a finger. Let‟s no more linger on this track packing The family silver broken records so scratched The melody of screeching is surely a strange sound To my ears, now clearing of wax Old tracks roads byways highways Where robbers stole a thing or two And left few pennies in a pot – Rot and rot and rot till forgot, forgot And forgot till the mists of old time


Leave no more traces names of races – Black white in-between. It‟s an old scene past tense money spent. Heaven scent a new perfume smelling of Something never smelt seen known understood. Take the hood off the hardened shells Old hells of fear deceit blame Name, name, name is an old game. But I shout out. – No history books No sorry tales No what ever we were told. Old, old, old Never again to be looked at Packed with this or that fact, No labels anymore the store is choking and we, The wise and wistful crones Women of the no-name ways say What is to be said as the dawn breaks The lark sings The sparrows flap their wings. Dong, dong, dong Ding, ding, ding. Out of the horizons valleys highways Sing, sing, sing – No looking back It‟s a heavy old sack It breaks the back!


Atrophied Limb Of Perception What is this atrophied limb Of a long lost perception? What was the capacity We so direly need to recover? An ear listening in the silence, An eye watching in the blackness. Touch dissolving any barrier. Taste telling every story Smelling the air of a higher intuition, A heart that feels and sees and knows. All senses in service To life In each moment As it arises. So why are we avoiding The Void?


Sea Change This existence is rather like being cast adrift On a small raft of the senses upon the vast ocean Of the Universe. How to navigate the tides, currents and constant Swells of emotions As they rise up to engage and engulf us? They are but one drop lifted out for a moment Then cast back. My raft has been caught on this new current Tossed far out Away from any shorelines Those safe havens of certainty All I have to guide me is my senses Alive to the moment Quickened in this salt tang Of some great sea change Donâ€&#x;t you smell it on the air? Even the wind is holding its breath in anticipation. Everything is moving, moving fast As something stirs in the deeps. Like a seismic tremor on the ocean floor To dark to fathom. Something has turned about The tides of time have switched around Then turned again Like a pebble dropped in a pond The wave moves out rippling round Sending shivers of gooseflesh. The butterfliesâ€&#x; wings have flashed silent on air And given rise to this hurricane That just longs to be felt!


Living In The Moment If I let myself I would Melt into the ocean of a single stare. What is clinging to this old raft Of forlorn hopes and separation Drifting along the ocean‟s tow, Now tugging at all the unlived moments, Unravelling the tight knitting Of a well ordered life? Drink down the chaos of the ocean‟s depths. Don‟t fish in the empty bucket of your fantasies. Ride the current of the moment Not that old roller coaster of emotions. Spiral within the swirl of this time‟s pull That longs to lift you out and far above all caution‟s grip. Don‟t let the fishing net of expectations Hold you in its grasp floundering over the next decision. Dance! Like the waves dance upon this newest shore Beyond night and stars and universes calling. Dance! At the place where love comes pouring in All joy, delight and singing! Dance! To fling off all death‟s fears, Then as you laugh in wonder Swim into the present moment This very moment Savour it Whole!


Advent Spiral Dark Matter Keeps this Matter dark. No Matter. A single eye may grasp the birthing of this Star Advent Spiral of unfolding night Blackness confounding ordinary sight Swirling, stirring, shifting, shaping. Moulding forms from possibilities Loveâ€&#x;s deepest Mystery within all things, Churning, yearning for expression; Just to Be. Giddy, eddying motion to the mind Stop! See but the One Sun at the centre. Move in closer The spark of your attention Will light the spiral Whole, Vivifying this subtle dance of birthing To capture all hearts and imaginations Home.





INVOCATION One of the other motivations behind these gatherings has been to come together in order to honour the sacred mystery of life and that of the divine feminine: the Earth, the Great Mother, the Goddess, Gaia, the Void, by whichever name you know Her. Through exercises of awareness such as meditation, active imagination and incubation, we give a space for the deep eternal energies of life to move us and speak to us in the ancient language of symbols and images. Often we employ spontaneous drawing and writing to give to whatever arises, however baffling, form and expression. These energies referred to are those that constantly arise out of the great biological ground of being and influence everything in life, that cause our lunch to be „cooked‟ by the digestive system, a child to be born, the grass to grow, a dream, a vision, the impulse to dance or sing, they are life in play. This „dialogue‟ is not confined to the specific practices listed above, as we also remain attentive to everything happening within the room, and the world around us. This can be as simple as the sudden cry of a bird, a car siren or the line of a song that just pops into a conversation. Rather than viewing these events as background noise, we may stop and take particular notice if we sense that there is a deeper level of meaning dancing before us. The „work‟ takes us to great depths, places of joy and pain, but one thing is for certain, that when life is in play, humour is never very far away, especially breaking in at those moments when we need to stop taking ourselves so seriously. There is an urgent necessity for humanity to re-establish a deep and intimate relationship with the life that is going on all around us and to come to know that everything is longing for our engagement. In these gatherings we are gradually being shown and taught how to relate to the Earth in a new way. With this has come a deepening respect, appreciation and honouring of the tremendous living spiritual being that is this Earth.


A call An echo The call


Vastness. Unending vastness she is Expanding to all corners Unrestricted in her reaching The stars the land, The everything that is. In her opening She swells herself, Gives birth Makes mountains, Earth.



Invocation Out of darkness into light

All there was and all there will be

From all the worlds seen and unseen

We call your name Madre


Life Blood Ochre, Cadmium, Lapis, Burnt sienna Life blood of the Mother Granite, Limestone, Slate Bones of the Mother Oak, Beach, Sequoia, Whale-song, Leopard, Mosquito, Starling, Motherwort, Ladies mantle Juniper, Rose, Jatamansi, Sandalwood, Myrrh Sing her song Saaaaaaaaaaaaaa Suuuuuuuuuu Aaaaaaaahh Ooooooooooo Mmmmmmmmmmm Songlines


Ode To The Great Mother Hello Beloved Earth, my Dear One, my Beautiful One, my One With no name-my unknown unacknowledged –dishonouredWounded sleeping Earth. Earthmother, Earthworld, Earthheart Here I am my Beloved Earth, with you, in you, embracing you, In service to you, dissolved in ecstasy within you, one with you, Alive in you, spark-meeting spark in you, alive in you, loving you, Fire in fire, matter in matter, mortal and eternal, red and black, Red and white, black and white, light and dark, containing all forms, All desires, all emotions, all thoughts, embracing light and dark, Birth and death, creation and destruction, the great dance Of the eternity, great ecstasy of life dance, life mischief, Life playfulness…………..and order and chaos and becoming and Dying and movement and stillness, ascent and descent……... Earth Mother, Great Mother, Great woman of Earth, Made of mineral, made of vegetable, made of animal, Made of all that is, all that was and all that will be And yet concealed from us, Unknown to us, but wanting to be known, veiled from us For your protection and for ours, wanting to unveil but still Afraid, longing to show your beauty to us but wary of what

We will do to you, cautious through so many centuries of our Abuse of you, sleeping in half wakefulness-after-sleeping, But wanting and me wanting to come home to you and You to me, to be reunited, to be together you and I, to dance Together in joy and ecstasy, our limbs entwined, our sight One sight, our ears one hearing, our noses one smell, Our lips one taste, our skin one sensation, no boundaries, No separation between us, as is, as was, As will be.



O Nameless One One of nothing Of everything And you sing to me To us to all, Falling falling Falling & you Calling calling Calling, singing Dancing being In & out Breathless-breath Ocean, Depth & waves Caves of treasure No measure No why or what A dot of nothingSings brings So sweetly, Oh! So sweetly an echo. O my heart your heart, Heart of All creationO nameless One One of nothing Of everything And you sing to me.


Drawing Down The Light I draw down light and Connect with the infinite; divine Energy through creativity, dancing, Singing and all joyous activities. Joy of being – My personal mother Gave me life My Big Mother Gives me the earth All of nature and all other possibilities Why then should I not be joyous and celebrate you. When I make the connection with you Myself disappears What joy! Oh Mother help everyone To know these joys and therefore know you.


Calling I am calling, calling since always. No! I am not calling, what is this „I‟? For every cell is calling Every heart sprung fibre of life‟s longing to engage In a wild play of lovers. Dancing in your spark light, Moonbeams on water Drumming out the beat To light and show us the ribboned road Opening up before us in this dark soul night Where all hazards draw together. The coldest, oldest place before Dawn.


Unutterably She Unarguably Unutterably Utterly She Neither wanting Nor craving Just living to Be Not sleeping Nor dreaming Awakened At one Forever Unbounded Becoming Become.



Journeying All silvered with sand we sit Circled about with companionship Shimmering on the shore. Gulling sounds arching above us We wait to board ship That harbours our intention To journey from necessity To wilder shores of desolation Beyond any tumult of the heart‟s hesitation. Shore-less and shipwrecked Washed-up on a far island of desolation. The darkest gloom pierced by a single star, That lasers the landscape with its focused beam. Molten rock bubbles as it passes Carving out the way Down, and ever down. Only with the right eye staring out behind the left Can I make any sense of such blackness Marking out the menace up ahead, A ravening slavering beast barring the way. Dismembered in its rapacious jaws I watch as something within me is torn limb from limb Out of necessity. The Earth cried out and my heart takes up the refrain I am calling, hearing and responding Now Behold! The Great Mother Venting spleen. Fuming her fury A dark miasma, palls and Masks her figure So cloaked round with raging Grief and sorrow for this time of dismal desolation. Yet She suffers my presence Prostrated I await her judgement Death or life, or life in death She gave me life so she can take back my Life Anytime, of her choosing A hand flashes out offering a seed She plants it through my skull and cries “Now Go!” To live what she has planted. whatever is demanded This seed of something new? Or of my own undoing? This seed a token A trust never to be broken





Oh Could This Be The End Of The Way We Were? Oh Could This be the end of the way we were? No marked posts no boundary lines Horizons of a different kind and colour Stillness reaches out for us To be cradled in Her arms.


GATHERING TOGETHER We take this time out simply to be together. In much the same way as we would set aside a time for prayer, or meditation, thereby creating an opportunity to relinquish the list of what we think we should be doing and step into a space of dynamic receptivity and reflection. It is an opportunity to be fully present in the here and now, just quietly attentive to whatever is. Generally as a society we seem to have forgotten that we are human beings, not human doings. We sit together in a circle, which is such a timeless activity, one that humanity has engaged in over millennia, whether just in seeking the company of others, or in order to share a meal, discuss problems, listen to stories or share the warmth from the fire. By the very act of sitting in a circle we can become aware of how this connects us to all who have gone before us and to those souls who will come after us. There are also some things that are only possible when a group of people comes together with a focus on the life of the whole, rather than fixed on its separate individual concerns, which is reflected in this saying of Christ: „When two or more gather in My name, there am I also‟. This sitting together can become a stepping into a temenos, into a sacred space, into a place set aside which encompasses the Heart, and our world as the garden of the soul: a place where the divine can be experienced in a different form. And why is it a circle of women? Women have always supported each other, whether in the home, in the fields, in preparing a celebration, in the birthing of children to name but a few. As women we hold the threads that connect us all as a sacred trust, and these threads spread out from our family to our friends, to our community, world wide, an integral part of the web of life and the rich tapestry of creation. I read somewhere that each one of us is only a maximum of seven steps removed from anyone else we just happen to meet. One human family, which gives a whole new perspective to the edict: „Unto the seventh generation‟. We are all responsible for and accountable to each other, and the harm we do to another we inflict on ourselves and will impact on the whole. At the beginning of each gathering we start by consciously acknowledging the need to shift our primary focus away from „me‟ and „mine‟ towards „we‟ and wanting nothing for ourselves in order to embrace the life of the whole. Alongside this we hold a prayer that we may be shown how to be of service: We do not ask to see, we do not ask to know, we ask only to be used‟. Although we may not know with our day-world minds why we have come along, we bring our awareness to that within us which has responded to this invitation to gather, to the call that has drawn us to take part.


We use awareness of the breath to become fully present in the moment and enliven the five senses. Awareness of the breath also helps centre us within the heart, in that deep place of silence, stillness and dynamic receptivity that is a core quality of the feminine . We become a container, a vessel, trusting that something will emerge and make itself known. Together we hold a space of „Unknowingâ€&#x;, open to whatever wants to come. What then follows arises out of that moment, maybe a prayer for the world, active imagination, or a practice that opens us up more fully and thus enables us to embrace the group and the earth as a single integral whole.


Gathered Here Within the strands of shifting time A moment of stillness With many hands grasping mine Creating a circumference Circling the centre That empty space where Life arises. Red raw and ready Awaiting the signalled green When the heart spins Sighing “go!” Which makes the Worlds shift And the Heavens spin As the Dragon lifts its head His forking tongue flashes through From toe to tip Snaking out with this cry into the Void „ The light must come down!‟ Flooding through it enters in, Shattering all illusions With divine remembrance.


Call to Adventure: Active Imagination: We need to go naked, vulnerable, free of wanting and conditioning. Willing to move away from a focus just on „meâ€&#x;, this is not for us but for the whole. Traditionally when a society is in trouble we need to venture where the society is not looking or where it fears to go. We may experience that we are journeying alone, but we are all travelling together. Begin with awareness of breath, then add awareness of the pulse of the body, the heart beat of the world. Sitting in a circle with nothing, no-thing at the centre, we form a living mandala, with the dome of the sky above, the arc of the Great Ones who keep watch on and for the world. We also have roots that go deep, feel that depth. We are a living circle inside the square of the 4 directions. We are to set off in the 5th direction and to do this we must unfold our five senses. Let them each unfurl like a flower, until we are both in and outside time, at the place where the two seas meet, the sea of life and the sea of death, at a place where the sun and moon are equivalent lights and the place where the sun both rises and sets. This is a place of paradox, of the reconciliation of opposites where all becomes whole. This is a Holy place, a place of wholeness: maybe here you can perceive the Angelic plane, you may sense to remain here and witness an unfolding or maybe you are called to venture on. If you start along a path, notice what draws you on, a note, a call, a wind, a thread, an animal or guide. Ahead there is a fork in the road and we need to choose the left or right hand way. On the right is the path of the Warrior Spirit, on the left that of the Deep Feminine. Which pull is greater more insistent? Or which are you avoiding? This is a threshold place, there may be a guardian, you may need to ask permission to continue or you may be asked to surrender something, to leave something behind or to give something up. Once you are over the threshold, the landscape may have changed completely, it may be familiar or utterly new. There may be water to cross, a forest or a mountain, a land of desolation or some other obstacle. Remember you can always ask for help as long as you express gratitude for whatever is given, even if it is completely baffling.


Follow any instructions, as it may be necessary to undergo some inner purification. Now journey on until you arrive at a place: Here you may be asked or shown something as a sacred trust and duty. Something that needs to be brought back into your ordinary everyday life. Whatever it is, whatever is shown, know that it is a grace and blessing, even if utterly mystifying. Remember always to give thanks to the giver.





BEING PRESENT We begin each meeting with the breath. Awareness of the breath brings us right into the present, into the moment. Only in the moment can we be fully awake and receptive to what life wants us to hear and to show us. The present moment is not born out of a continuous progression of past moments, as we have been taught, but arrives complete and perfect like a newborn child. If we can truly live in the moment, it makes a total nonsense of any plans or anxieties over the future, for how can we possibly make any real plans, when there are so many variables and when the world we are experiencing now may have changed beyond all recognition by tomorrow. To be fully present is also to inhabit that liminal space, to stand at the threshold. It is to say yes to all that is unfamiliar and unknown. This can be challenging, daunting, sometimes very painful and often completely disorientating. In these groups we openly acknowledge an intention to be with this „unknowing‟, so very quickly we can become removed from the known and all our usual comfort zones. It can be like standing at an unfamiliar doorway or in a potent space between two realms of existence. This can bring up fears and resistance at first, until gradually we become familiar with this new terrain. We need to bear with it, whilst remaining connected to that place in us that says yes to life whatever the cost: then something changes and, if needed, help is given. Now anything is possible. Whatever arises out of „the space‟, we hold it within and if appropriate draw something or write a few words, much in the same way as staying with a dream on waking. After a while we share these impressions in order to come to a greater sense of whatever has been shown. In this way we come to learn how to articulate unknowing: this again is like the sharing of a dream. It is like looking at the many facets of a diamond in order to come to sense the shape and colour of it. This may not be apparent straight away, but usually by the end of the weekend something tangible has emerged; this can be on many levels, from the archetypal right down to the personal. Alongside this, there is always an inherent or even overt challenge to change the nature of our relationship and attitudes to life and the way we live. We have been faced with challenges of integrity, surrender, and of willingness to engage and, above all, to live what we are shown, not just to go home and fall back into old habits and fall fast asleep again. There is often a wonderfully playful and mischievous quality in all this, especially if we become too dry or serious. We have to become as children with eyes open to awe and wonder and definitely not afraid to jump!!


Quiet Reflection So still So dark So silent From what flows this source? A mystery too dark to grasp A place of beginning Arrival and departure A mirror of marvels Reflecting liquid gold And the face before life was, Or Earth, or thought Or any creeping thing Or windstorm Or imagining. This dark pool Within my being This place of quiet reflection Of intense listening Of listening to life Whispering secrets Within and All around


Infinite Space Lying on grass looking up at sky Childhood memories of creation.


Silence And In The Stillness Is Everything Remembering the African mask

That rendered me dumb Without a word- just a presence Perceived as darknessThe Most feminine + eternal The un-comfortableness of it. The freedom of it

Being The spirit of the void Allah


A Wind Is Blowing From The North From Isles


Somewhere A breath Not found In rooms In company By words Or thoughts Enclosed None holds Contains This ancient Draught Knowledge Older than The trees First stones And skies Or waters Cold. Pure Air alone Yet finer Clearer Purer still Breathe Drink deep And fill Thy heart Of old!


Generosity To be present? No Deliberation To attend to that voice whispering behind the eyes Behind the bars Getting louder, perhaps beginning to scream? The gates are guarded. Good. What losses? What gains? What danger? Let me remember my dream again. Again the cry, the invitation: “Open up!� You can do this, With a little concentration. Step out into the dark Give way to the river of the heart And find that the gates stand open. Is this surrender? A choice I make? It is not nothing. We find ourselves bathed in light.



Nothing Is Everything When day and night are one Time stands still The heart awakes and stands gazing at the sky Stillness Eternity Silence Love and hate, dark and light, all one. The dark void full of light The Sun so stunningly black Opposites moving towards union The Beloved recreating His beloved creation Let go of everything you thought you understood Let go of every conception There is nothing but Nothing Nothing is Everything.

The Music Of Light A powerful energy In unexpected gentleness Reflected. Colours curve around Central Source; Sun and moon One Light. Eternal stillness Supports all strength, Visible birthing of being. Now. Listen. Look. See & hear the music of light. Silence and in the stillness is Everything.


Love‟s Ocean This moment Centred through the breath Brings awareness of the ebb and flow of life Linking soul and Self to whoever is writing this. Follow the breath within Down into your heart Where it touches the divine spark Making it glow Lighting the Way This path of longing Home. The flow of life‟s breath This life of the Spirit Breathes us into existence Every moment The flow of life‟s breath Connects my heart with The very heart of all. This heart‟s breath Leads me far beyond my island Isolated self Out into Everything!


Mercurial Life This mercurial life Longs to engage us In a wild play All unexpected The moth of your mind hovers Should I? shouldnâ€&#x;t I? As it dances round the flame Such a game. Last life? Lifeâ€&#x;s last chance, To wake up from this nightmare. The blackbirds cry Heralded the instant That we all came awake If only for a moment.



“After the last gathering I had a question about personal and impersonal/ collective. The experiences I have, in what way are they personal and in what way impersonal? This latest gathering, the answer to that question starts to emerge; somehow the insight emerges, then how the paradox of me and us comes together. How to describe this insight? The me and the us are in a way together, are one - if one does not separate the me out, if one does not grasp it. If the I melts in the „us‟ and the us in the I. It is a dance. No, more than a dance, a union. The importance is to let it happen, to change my perception: move away from a separated I to a We. It is how one looks at it. Something like that. In this last gathering there was such a togetherness, a melting of the individuals to a collective and yet: valuing the individual. The individual was given importance: all the different experiences, skills, modes of expression. But the Individual did not sabotage the collective.”


What Is It? What is it that is finding the words To speak into this moment That casts a lingering trail Upon the air? Why are we sitting here Giving ear to this strange new voice Singing out of the Earth‟s long silence? Was there a song that life forgot Now waking up upon life‟s stage? Remember those precious moments when Life was fully alive This very moment! Everyone is extraordinary A new colour added to the Rainbow‟s glory A marvellous image reflected in life‟s wholeness. Yet life has been so shattered Splintered into pain Labelled and filed away For safety‟s sake. Now comes this time of gathering. So here we sit knitting words together Weaving threads of experience Within the heart‟s yearnings. Patching up the empty places Of dark despair. My piece fits so snugly next to yours. Though the warp and weft are so very different. No matter. Oneness was never Single, solitary and the same.


In This Moment In this moment You elude me, Like walking through the sky of air. Elusive like the Autumnal flower Touching Winter. You elude me Like the wisp of that kiss Felt in the embrace Where no arms hold No bodies meet. You elude me Like wispy clouds ever changing In the sky of day, Ever moving Becoming Fading away. And the dance more real Than anything seen or tactile touched. And yet. And yet in this moment Communication sings her song of love, Of embrace, Of chatting on the bus with a stranger, Smiling with a mother As she wheels her child along the path, Or gets onto the bus. A smile of the inner heart bringing forth More than words can ever say. And so it is. It is forever this ever-changing dust That shapes itself constantly. Ever moving, Staying still. Being in this moment here And nowhere together, Not able to hold the sky of air.





TREE OF LIFE As each weekend has progressed, it has always been possible to identify an underlying motif that is informing the whole gathering. Often, for example, the same symbol or image will emerge in several different people‟s drawings or writings at the same time. The value of being in a group is that everyone responds in a uniquely individual way to these images and symbols, which is so helpful in bringing to light different qualities that maybe, as individuals, we would have overlooked or not even considered. This brings in a much deeper appreciation and understanding of the archetype or symbol, it helps us move closer to a fuller appreciation of just why this particular archetype is present, closer to what is being asked of us and how we can find ways to relate to this, how it touches our ordinary everyday lives and the life of the whole. The symbol of the Tree of Life is one that will be familiar to all, since expressions such as „family tree‟ are part of everyday parlance. What then is so fascinating to watch is just how such a familiar symbol comes in and finds new modes of direct expression that touch and move us. The symbol is not experienced as a static concept or as a fixed entity, but as dynamic and alive, with us, there, present in the room. And how hard it is to describe all this away from the moment, because at the time there is a spark or charge in the air that cannot be transferred onto paper. All I can try to convey is that the nature of the relationship between humanity and trees became known to us at a much deeper level. It changed the way I have responded to every tree ever since, and I was already someone who loves trees. They are our kin; we rely on them as much as they rely on us, for what they breathe out we breathe in. Of course this is a fact we all had learnt in school; however, we came to a real appreciation of this interdependence and a real understanding of why the native American Peoples refer to trees as „the Standing People‟ or ‟The Standing Nation‟. The nature of this change was qualitative, like in the difference between receiving a letter from a loved one and seeing him unexpectedly standing before you, arms outstretched, with every fibre of your being wanting to fall into that embrace.

The Standing People The Standing People, The tree and you and me Live forever together, together, Lungs, brother and sister, Twins, together, together Always together, Canâ€&#x;t be any other way Today forever and forever together, One breath in and out, in and out. What can one say about the mystery of things That makes a tree and me and you and all of us together Breathe as one, one and all together. The trees and brother sister humans Indispensable un-detachable, Cant live without each other, And the joy of knowing We are one breath, One dance of Wind Air Ether


What The Tree Breathes Out We Breathe In Whispers Of The Wild.

Ahhh! Aging Like A Tree

Bending And Holding In Balance, Standing Tall And Bearing All


A Single Flame The One light Reflected in the tree at the window Whose branches etch mysterious pathways in the sky Ephemeral as the flight of birds Across the inner visioning eye. Once Joseph* ventured to this Isle Planted his great staff That took root and flourished. Now that tree too is felled And the ribbons of our tattered lies Are shredded On this wind of change. Today a new tree has been planted Rooted in our hearts.

Note: *Joseph of Arimathea who, as legend has it, was the first to bring Christ’s message to Britain.



Great Tree Oldest of Trees Ever Green Ever Changing as the Eons Pass Here from the Beginning Branches Uplifted Worshiping the Light


How Far Does A Candle Flame Reach? How far does a candle flame reach? How far can it be measured, held still? I cannot see a measure that stretches that far. One made of metal of strong endurance Held in a hand that cannot be seen May hold the answer to the question. For as sure as I'm sitting here on this blue chair No answer reaches my awarenessâ€&#x; cells, Chambers of my brain. Knowing there is a dance between human and tree Pulls me away from such questions as these. And so with the standing and moving people My attention goes to the flows of breath moving out And breath moving in - one receptacle. And o and o again and again this dance, Mini second upon mini second, Always itself to the melody of in and out of time. And there are no placards headlines newsreels spinning the story, No great minds bowing down in wonder At the thunderous second where no minds meet, No thoughts to be understood, No measure of moments to be written down while the great clown Puts more red upon his cheeks and nose, Makes a humorous pose to distract us away from thoughts such as How far does a candle flame reach? The answer to the question is simple. The flame goes and goes and goes and goes so far where no line Reaches, no defining point ends, and it goes and goes like the Sound of an echo, a dart of light in the day or night or any time At all. Fall down fall down on my knees please, please. Please hear the call of the wild, The naked child rolling about in a mud bath Skin sparkling as the rains wash down, And the river rolls her mud along the banks To be made into vessels to drink from, To pour holy incense into, drink holy wine from. And the light has reached soooo far, Soooo far into the night that my heart beats A thousand beats to rhythm of this hymn.


World Tree This tree is the World Tree. All trees! The maypole fulcrum of this Earth Around which we dance As children. Ribbons of bright colour Link our hearts to Yours. Make merry in Her lap Drink wine, Eat bread, A bed beneath a spreading canopy of wonder. Wrap us in your cloak of leaves And in this seeded moment Where all hazards draw together Weâ€&#x;ll watch And wait The new.


Wild Fire Great Tree Can you weather this wild fire? The heat and smoke and searing pain Of this timeâ€&#x;s passing? So many familiar things will sweep away The dross of centuries burning up In a flash of moments. Lying in our smouldering ash of greed May these few precious seeds Find the rich soil and body Of this dear Earth Within my human heart. Such a fragile beginning Too vulnerable to contemplate This root This shoot of prayer and hope.


Vision Of A Young Girl Aged Nine I have added this simply because it was told to me out of the blue and so resonated with this section that it begged to be included. It speaks of the tree of life, not only in terms of an individual life, but also of the tree of life itself, of how they are one and the same. Here is the struggle of a child to stay connected to the realm of the imagination, to the wonder of life and to stand tall and straight, true to her own nature and to her innate gift as an artist: a struggle that most of us have faced in some form, at some point in our own lives. „I can see a very tall woman with long brown hair painting an enormous tree. As she paints I can see that the tree is really alive and watch all the colours of the leaves as they fall to the ground. So it must be Autumn.

This is such a valuable tree that someone steals it. My friends and I decide to go in search of this painting. We hunt and look everywhere, all over the world. It takes a very, very long time. Eventually we find it in Japan. It has been put into a glass case, like in a museum. It is not damaged but looks different, sad. So we take away the glass so that it can live again‟. When asked where this tree is now the answer was at first a hesitant „I don‟t really know‟, that quickly changed to: Everywhere!





WOMAN As women we carry a sacred light without which we couldn‟t conceive and give birth. Without this light we would not be able to participate in the great mystery whereby the light of a soul takes on physical form, a form that is woven out of the very substance of our own bodies. To give birth is to participate in this mystery, a „participation mystique‟. This light is present in every woman, even if she has never had children. There is also a deeper level to this mystery, and we are only just beginning to touch the edges of it in these gatherings: as women, we are needed to help the spiritual body of the world weave this same light into form, to weave it into the physical substance of the earth, the everyday world around us, which includes all the concerns and practicalities of our individual everyday lives. Through coming together we are beginning to recognise and awaken to the knowledge of this light within us, how we can offer this light back to life from a place of love, surrender, and devotion so that, with the grace of God, it can go where it is needed to help the world heal and transform. We have been told that without this light the world will slowly die and nothing new will be born. Life, as we have discovered over these weekends, is so hungry for this active involvement; her response continuously surprises us: life desperately needs our full participation. We are also being asked to live who we really are, to live from our simple and essential nature, reconnected to our deep instinctual selves and knowing: it‟s a demand that is as simple and challenging as that, for „just being yourself‟ may sound easy, but it requires that we dare to be the „me without all the veils‟, to drop all our old excuses along with the cry „ but I don‟t know what to do!‟, to relinquish all that old outworn conditioning that says: „I shouldn‟t, I wouldn‟t, I couldn‟t!‟ All this has to go, now, today, as an urgent necessity! The Ancient mysteries of the sacred feminine maybe lost, but over the last few years we have seen how a light suddenly enters the space: we are being shown and given ways in which this light wants to interact with us, both as a group and in our own individual life‟s circumstances. Witnessing this knowledge being given back to us is akin to watching an exquisite bud unfurl, petal after petal; it is a gradual unfolding, an experience of many threads, coming into our awareness on many levels and slowly being woven together. Initially some women thought that any work for the whole meant that there was a denial of the individual, or thought that because we are still so ego driven as individuals, we could not possibly be in real service to life; the two seemed irreconcilable, but „the whole‟ means just that, everything, and the fallible individual is included and held within that wholeness. We just need to drop our limited perception and idea of ourselves, and relinquish any notions of how things should be. As mentioned before, what is required is to step aside from our usual stance of wanting to get something for ourselves: when we are able do this, the space opens up.


It is then possible to experience who we really are and what actually wants to live and come to expression through us. It is again as simple as that. The challenging part is then to go away and live what you have been shown. This may necessitate giving up a well paid job, or saying no to someone else‟s plans, or leaving a relationship, but more often than not, it involves making a space in our hectic lives for that which we most love and for doing that which comes most naturally. The relationship between the archetypal dimension and the individual in these gatherings is so fascinating to watch. There is always such diversity and richness of expression, qualities unique to an individual can become apparent and serve to enhance the depth of understanding of the particular archetype in play. Perhaps, most importantly is how the pain, wounding and suffering in our personal lives reflect the wounding at the core of life, which needs to be acknowledged, but not fuelled by our rejection and denial. What we have been shown is that as far as we are able we need to step away from rage, anger and blame. Then there is direct access to the deep instinctual wisdom that heals and renews. It is through our own pain and wounding that we learn empathy and compassion for others. In acknowledging and suffering to bear the pain within life, women can help heal the deep feminine. Sorrow and pain can be the doorway, the path that takes us through to reconnection. It is said that „God enters through a wound‟.


Earth Woman Singing The Sadness

The Deep Feminine I have No Place, Placeless, faceless, unnamed, unseen, unheard, unheeded Of whom no news returns or is even asked after. Buried This strange limbo Empty desolation Lying soundless Senseless numb Dumb unyielding stone Chilled to the head and hand And heart and bone Heartsick Heartache

Is any one there!? Are you so afraid, Still avoiding intimacy? Secluded No tongue No sound No word No call No impulse to articulate No move to movement Static Stasis Denied Wiped out Erased Gone Forgotten Suspended Strung between the worlds Head and heart sundered Grief stricken Plundered Entombed Do the dead cry out? Do they have a voice? Do they even listen? Whilst lying icy cold


Implacable Immobile

Are you waiting too? But for what ? Banished No memories No thoughts No connection No desires No impulses No flicker of fantasies Nor flashes of perceptions Walled In Shut out of sight and mind Imprisoned Captive Caged

Does not my silence scream your isolation? Roll back the boulder This great stone of negation You locked me away Forsworn Forsaken Here I lie under your heart Under the Earth Under the rib of the Great Mother Do you not long for that meeting Of a man and a woman in the garden In His heart, Her soul delighting The Barzak And all worlds uniting? Tomb-Womb Today a new Child walked into the garden A bright star within the womb Carried on the vast Ocean of the Cosmos Not yet caught in duality and separateness Tabula rasa The white page yet to be written on Tomb- Womb of a Real inception of Hope Life and Resurrection.



Cry the warrior cry - A warrior of the feminine Where are the night owls? I feel You, my heart beats with your heart, Oh, my beloved wildness I throw away the neatness, Ahh! the smell of moist - the earth, Oh wind carry me - carry my wildness and let me run with the wolves, Earth, oh earth have me - letâ€&#x;s do this together, Let us awake into our real nature Wild and unpredictable and wonderful. Eagles, foxes, stags and all the magic creatures of the forest Unicorns and elves Let's throw a party - with the trees bellowing their laughter, Let's all be who we really are - one family with different expressions. OH! I want to throw away those pristine clothes - put mud on my body And dress it with leaves, No thorns will harm me when I walk through rosebushes. I know where the wild berries are I live and breathe with the whole forest I am surrounded by all of them, I am never alone. Oh WILD WILD WILD! I want to be, wild and me and no longer Concerned with THAT being a problem! I allow my knowledge to awake - I talk and hear them all Plants and wind and earth and Beings and animals and colours - especially colours! Let the Greys be washed off - ripped of - and let the true colour come Through. Oh allow myself to bring the wildness back into my eyes - to hell with it They SHALL see it! I am wild and true and the earth and something else - like She is Part of me and part of the universe - She is in me - I am in Her She is just playful and magnificent Important and also not. Let the colours return Let the new rivers come to life Those turquoise and jade sources. I am HER and She is me. When I am me, I am Her.


I Am Tigress I am Tigress! I am Woman! Roar and raw! My body, heart and soul All blood and electricity I am Shakti, Power and Life Unmanifest - Behold! In-forming Be-coming All-owing Be-holding Be-longing Longing, longing To be Loved and Known. I am the Core The birth of all things Power of the Universe! Lightning stripes my tigressâ€&#x; back Electric trees and Lava flows, unspent, Unending Possibility. All Becoming emanates from me!


The Circle Everything is round Everything comes back to itself With or without refinement. My womb - my earth - my centre I am SHE - I cannot be other. My mouth, my eyes, my breasts, My head, my birth canal, My energy centres in my body Like the earth - round. The wholeness is in everything. Once I look from this place When I align to my earthiness Then trees appear, then longing: My inner wind; Then longing to get physically Near HER To get out there Where SHE is waiting. To open up to my SAMENESS My ONENESS with HER. Oh! that never-ending pain That rises in the heart And grows and grows into universes: That is what keeps me distant, The pain is all engulfing It is bigger then everything It takes my breath away It squeezes my heart so much, I want to cut off from it again. I know why I guard that gate, How to function and bear that And live and work. Laughter'd be stuck in my throat Not to identify, not to identify. The man in me can, Woman in oneness with HER can't. Circling around the shaft of pain Circling deeper and deeper Song comes Lullabies Needing to sooth HER We are in this together There is no SHE really There is the CHI energy That is having a dream.


Silence Secrecy Soil


Woman Sexuality and spirituality soulfully wedded within woman, Once and in ages past Just when was that? And when did we finally divorce Spirit from all matter That the Earthâ€&#x;s song fell silent At this dreadful sundering? Todayâ€&#x;s challenge is To live the sacred sparkle back to life In all the little things. Notice as you walk the street If the hips swing how the heart sings. Let down your hair in whatever way grabs you And feel the freedom of the moment Of pure being without bondage. Let the wildness show if only a little As the petticoat slips below the hem Of a life cut too short to fit the fullness of the cloth. Let your senses whisper the secrets of the rose. Now be that rose! The petals and the fragrance how they do beguile. They say that romance is all hearts and flowers. Be all of this and more and more and yet just very ordinary, Nothing special! Just yourself Wonderfully, wantonly, shamelessly wild! Be luscious as a plump cherry ripe for the picking Be all in love with life heart singing! Even though not everything is great all the time Start to see the whole World whole And discover His oneness in it all!


Women Laughing Women Laughing, laughing In this spontaneous celebration of creation That can break through any ordinary moment. This release from formal, normal sense of self, All socialized and civilized. Back to nature, back to essence, All generation and regeneration, Sometimes lude, often crude, but always Wonderfully live!



No words. This has no words. The women are holding silence and stillness in the secrecy of the Earth Waiting holding empowered within themselves down below The above not ready nor prepared for their coming The above concerned with individual trivialities whilst the deep gestates Incubation, gestation. Real things grow in silence, the seed in the soil, the child in the womb, Until the time is come for them to be born. The dawn is coming, blood red on the horizon. The time is coming for women to be reborn For women to take their rightful place on Earth again.


“This last meeting is still with me...something happened. I don‟t quite know what... but it was / is real. There was a real meeting with other women and also a touching with something in the earth / planet. This definitely wasn‟t a fantasy”





THE RETURN OF THE WARRIOR SPIRIT These gatherings may be comprised of women, but the masculine is always present and how could it be otherwise, for we are acknowledging and embracing the whole of life, life which expresses the masculine and feminine in all their rich and varied forms, attributes and qualities. Without the writings of my Teacher Llewellyn Vaughan-Lee and the unconditional support of my husband these gatherings would never have taken place. The call from life was made potent, seminal, through the words of Llewellyn, the power of logos, the power of the word to initiate. From very early on, there were masculine archetypes appearing and sometimes they were not fully welcomed or able to enter fully into the space until we had openly acknowledged our fear, resentment, anger, rage, coldness and blame towards the masculine. We named these feelings, but did not fuel them. We have learnt to make room for these feelings, but not to act them out. They are acknowledged, included, brought into the space, but they do not become the primary focus. If some thing that disturbs comes in, it is recognised, named and allowed to find its place and to „settle down‟ with us, it is not ignored or pushed away. As women we have a choice to make, either to stay locked in our anger and pain, out for retribution and revenge, or to acknowledge that yes I have suffered, and yet also have the strength to draw a line that says “this stops with me”, that “I will not fuel this terrible fire”. Such an attitude gifts life a space in which to breath clean air and open up. Maybe if enough women are able to find in their hearts to do this, then something can change on the level of the collective. There can be no blame attached to those of us who very understandably will find this impossible. Archetypes hold a very real power and demand great respect; to subvert the power inherent in an archetype towards one‟s own goals and purposes, such as for material gain, is to play with a dark magic and unleash destructive forces. This work is not a game or to be entered into lightly. What has struck me most about the masculine archetypes that have emerged in our small gatherings is that they have the quality of something very ancient, of something that has been lost to us that is now waking up. What has been called to mind is the legend of King Arthur, where we are told that he and his Knights are not dead, but lie sleeping and will arise again at the hour of greatest need. They will come in response to a Call. The Shambhala Prophecy found in the 8 th centaury Kalachakra Tantra, really captures the essential warrior spirit that has found its way into our midst. It speaks of a moral and physical courage combined with compassion and insight, which belongs to no particular gender, race, colour or creed. This warrior spirit coming to reclaim the land as sacred, can also give us the wisdom to recognise the real challenges facing us at this time and to understand that any action that we undertake now has repercussions throughout the web of life. Embracing this warrior spirit enables us to see more clearly how our inner attitudes and intentions, both individually and collectively, are affecting life in ways far beyond those which we are able to measure or discern.


Vision Vision of a very tall Native American leads me through passages, coal black, to a cavernous region below. I only see his back view, and at times he has to bend low. It is dark night - inner and outer night. I sense something below, perhaps water, and a very faint reddening like dawn on an internal horizon. I begin to feel - to hear - the presence of horses. The shaking of bridles, stamping, snorting. And a great silence, as if before battle. There are many, many horses and riders, gathered far below in the vast canyon. It is dark, yet the sky is reddening. All is very still. I become aware of the riders, some with headdresses, and of their countless numbers waiting. A vast sun rises as a blood red line in a flaming, livid sky. Dramatic clouds part and stream above us. We are in the open and although dawn is coming, it is still dark. The horses and riders begin to walk, streaming past. No words are spoken. They are giants of men, Indians in all their still power, Streaming out and up on every side from where they have been waiting in the Earth. Dawn begins to break as they finally leave, and I become aware of the Women down below... of the colour they hold, pale sky blue, and of their stillness. Holding to the earth, crouching on and embracing the earth, the ground, their just Being is enough. Their dynamic peace and held concentration is the driving force of the re-entry of the Great Ones into the world. The women wait, still, embracing air and water, earth and fire in the sky. Breathing, being, waiting. In the open air and clear light of day, a single rider holds a silver disc, the size of a coin, up to the sky. The demand of the Now is just to be, no matter what, and to profoundly hold to the reality that WE KNOW.


Coming Back From Above Coming back from above Coming back from below From all around Into the heart The sacrum, the sacred Compassion for the wounded Sweetness for the bitter Softness for the fractured Strength for the new Night within day Stars, nameless space of the sun Rocks, ocean, light, life Deep, deep, deeper Into fathomless nothingness Arising from knowing Becoming And one Nowhere to go Nothing to do Witnessing I Remembering anew Leave behind old No longer needed Irrelevant, Gone Relating in trust Being, reaching Connected And true


The Warrior I am the silence of the sword The sharpness of steel The cut that heals Sparkle of silver moon beams. There is no curve in me For I am the sound of straightness Directness Clearness Swiftness of cutting air. No sound hears my speed Knows my name On earth standing I cut the heavens Hold nothing Guard the frontiers of time immortal Woman beautiful Flowers Showers of grace No word seeks me – I am the silence of the sword



Your voice echoes in the winds Rises from the lands where once you walked Proud warrior Like a prince Head erect to the rising and setting suns You are forever with us Moving with the wheel That moves us all


Time‟s Sentinels Men as sentinels stand around Guarding this space. As the drum beat Protects the traveller Into Shamanic realms. Man protects the field So woman can birth the future. Feel their focused strength Encircle you with care. With this love between Women will risk all pain and even death To bring life‟s children here. Take hold of the key To the heart of the World Behind these doors That are joy‟s threshold, Gestate moments Just longing for fulfilment!


Reflections I am very aware of man and woman...of a need to be with the men and of a growing readiness for this. I have a sense of vulnerability and of great longing, beyond a personal one, for a new connection between man and woman, of the deepest spiritual, emotional and physical connectedness. As soon as I began to mould the clay into two embracing figures, I felt such tenderness, and tears began to come in response to the openness and longing in me to be truly feminine in the presence of the masculine. An intermeshing and a being together, beyond old collective wounds, without fear or grasping, being vulnerable, opening to who we really are together and what we can be... of answering the call to be together. I have an inner feeling that when we come together with the men as a group, there will flow deep inner tears of joy, release and love, that the energy generated will be a driving force – not „us‟ but far greater – for whatever wants to be, released from shame or power over, vulnerable, receptive in oneness.






ENFOLDING ANGELS The biggest surprise in all these gatherings has been the times when the veils have thinned and „other beings‟ have entered and joined our circle. One time when we were just discussing how some Indigenous people are beginning to find their voice and power again, suddenly these 'spirits', for want of a better word, of all these indigenous peoples just came into the room. Everyone present was aware of their entrance, so we closed our eyes and invited them into our midst and asked how we could help them. Each person was given very particular instructions or advice, or was shown something, or given a specific experience or challenge. We were encouraged to live with utter simplicity, to breathe with the earth, to open our hearts, to bind everything together in the way that one would plat hair, and as women to be magnificent and unafraid. On one occasion an ancient being, a being so ancient that he has been present here on Earth since the beginning of days, entered the space. At first he was experienced as inert, dormant as if held in stone; then this being drew breath, rather like the first drawn breath of an infant just born: I felt the fire of new life entering in and quietly settle down into a natural continuous rhythm. This ancient woke up in me, woke up the memory of a sacred remembrance within, that of Humanity remembering God, which he then challenged us to make totally conscious. I watched as he looked around our circle: „So few‟ I heard him sigh, „Is this all that is left that remember?” and „can I trust you?‟ We do not actively seek these encounters or try to summon them. A few times we have had the grace to behold and be in the company of Angels, enfolded by their care. These are occasions that I struggle to find adequate words to express. One afternoon, quite unexpectedly, the Angel of the World was present, there in our midst, asking us to look at something. Some women saw other Angels arrive and we were filled with awe at the power of their pure presence. The Angel of the World was present in a small room in London and at the same time spanned the whole horizon and could hold the World balanced on the tip of one outstretched finger. At one point the Angels challenged: "Can you bow low enough?" Some women were shown visions that the mind struggles to comprehend and fails utterly. So I for one am left pondering the imponderable and wondering if something will become clearer over time, but maybe we don‟t need to know. That afternoon we were just asked to bear witness to whatever they were so intensely focused on and involved in, something that was in part concerned with the fertility of the Earth and the peril and potential of this time.



Angelâ€&#x;s Lament Humanity, you strange piebald, magpie creature Comprised both of darkness and of light. Dappled and daunted, forever twisting and turning Grappling within the grip of all your tortured emotions. Behold! A vision of a brighter kinder realm, For I can show you a wing tip of wonder. Even so it will span your limited horizon end to end! For you are like a young child That only knows the cot and playroom and your Motherâ€&#x;s lap When I can open a door upon wider perceptions. Are you still content to idle with all the toys and play things of this World That compass round your day? What keeps you in your cage of ignorance and complacency? For I live in a bright Eden, full of a vibrant life that is Awake and singing, That makes the soul glad and the senses swim to the music of creation Dancing into Being. But your arrogance and ignorance keeps you bound to dull reflections. Life to you is like silver that has lost its lustre Or an exquisite bowl that has a fatal flaw. Life no longer rings but sits heavy on your heart and mind, Restless as the wind you miss the magic of each moment. When the sublime bursts through the clouds of your forgetfulness You turn away As quickly as a hand drawn back from heat. Why does Reality with a capital R so sear your senses? Like a moth you shrink and shrivel from the flame of a truer passion. I Know Love! And when I say that word you misunderstand All the while confusing love with emotion. I know love as a power, I am love! For I am not soft and pink and gentle, The love in me is ruthlessly uncompromising! And I wonder what you comprehend of that! Very little I am sure. What you call love is need and manipulation And all manner of sentiment. With the flaming sword of Truth I stand! Guardian to a gateway that would take you back towards Your true heart and nature.


But you mistake my stance, as a ward and rejection As you duck and cower, hoping that my gaze will not fall on you again Yet I long for you to rise fearless one dawn and to ask me to guide you and then follow For I have dogged and watched your every step Day by day, hour by hour Always attentive Hoping for a sign of signal That you wish to turn Re-turn Home


It Is Too Great A Thought. It is too great a thought Too great a picture You holding Enfolding the earth With your wings – Light white. Largeness of caress Magnificent wonder Soundless thunder Awesome awesomeness Touched beyond touch My heart, oh my heart My heart cannot say The way you entered the space Enlarged Holding Enfolding the earth in endless space Was it grace? Is there any word to speak Of the place you inhabit? All holding – enfolding, enfolding, enfolding And that‟s how it is now Deepness of knowing Your presence is here – Is near I felt my heart could burst My deepening go so deep Deep depth Where words are not kept







The eye of the heart, the single eye that sees, has been very apparent in every group. As humanity we have access to this other way of seeing and knowing when we are open, centred in the heart and not out to get something or just grasping at something on the level of the mind. It is an opening up to inner sight, insight, inner knowing, which can occur during meditation, or in moments of quiet contemplation, or when we have moved deep into prayer for the world. We find this „eye‟ referred to in Christ‟s teachings:

„ Let thine eye be single and thy heart shall be full of light‟ And in the words of Meister Eckhart:

‟The eye by which I see God is the same eye by which God sees me. My eye and God‟s eye are one and the same One in seeing, one in knowing, one in loving‟.


So much that happens in these groups is mysterious: experiences, visions, images that we are unable to fathom; however, we continue listening and watching. This witnessing has for years been an integral part of the spiritual practice for many of those who take part, it is fundamental to being open and not judging or trying to manipulate whatever comes into the space. We have also been taught that to witness in an attitude of prayer, without judgement or trying to change the outcome, is to put something in the mind of God. All life is about our relationship to God. We have come to know that prayer is an innate natural attitude of the heart. True prayer elicits right action and draws down grace and without His grace nothing is possible. The Eye That Sees The „I‟ that sees is not the „I‟ that knows, and not the one that thinks. The part that throws a spanner in the works can sometimes see far farther up ahead – a glitch in cleverness, in things hoped for, unsaid – then the machinery stops, the cogs no longer turn, silence comes at last and then, when feelings burn, awesome senses stretch and open out the way. The eye internal opens up and bears the light–eternal day – and stretching wide a portal to the soul pierces the night to glow with living kohl! The eye that sees is not the „I‟ who plans or tries to grow, is only truly open when the winds of wildness blow. And searing in the brilliance of a trillion stars that shine, gazes open-lidded upon the life divine. The eye that sees is set upon a distant point in space: you never reach that point in time, it‟s not a thing or place. It‟s there within, in dazzling brilliance, alone and vastly swept by cosmic intelligence, and utter radiance and dark, so complete it defies the sight of outer life, yet is there upon the street, in every leaf and heart and stone, every child, animal and bone of being. The eye that sees has vision woven into every fibre, is wired to God, to realise in sight, to know what only can be shown within – and every thing a part and held and loved THE HEART.


Everything Melts Everything melts There is no inside or outside Only an empty vast blackness Out of which everything arises. Like waves on the ocean Rising and falling Coming into being and then dissolving down. There is no „I‟ Just a blackness Which is also bright and dazzling Like looking directly at the sun. Become the pupil of an eye. Then this physicality is an Event horizon. The black Whole of creation Out of which everything arises Constantly streaming.

The Single Eye Sees The single eye sees and sees all, and we see, and what do we see? A universe and a teardrop, all in one. Expanding beyond expansion, endless and tiny and contained, all one. Just existence beaten into being by the vibration of the sacred. Form is emptiness and emptiness is form. The ten thousand things are real and solid, and yet are just atoms dancing around and through and all one. The single eye is the beginning and the endless and worlds between worlds, and it observes us and we it and everything passes through and around it, and it is the whole world as we know it and none of it and more, and worlds and universes we don‟t know and can‟t even imagine. We are very small and in it, but it is in us.


Time Out Of Time This time, out of time This soul time, Where only the moment is. To exist here Is not to exist at all. Here there is just the full power of the Sun.

Awareness Let your awareness Become a sunspot Flaring up for an instant Before sinking down. Just one small flame In the dazzling darkness Just one moted spark of Divine remembrance Blazing out From the Eye of All


The Very Heart Of All All this strange indigo Light Now a single Something Singled out A silent sentinel Which finally Declares itself to be An eye. The single eye, The Very Heart of All. Insect, reptile, fish, Bird, Mammal, Tribesman, spider, Lizard, Owl, chimp, Tiger, whale, The list goes On and on. Each in turn stares Out In a unified global Appeal: See me! Hear me! Touch me! Free Me!


On Having No Head It is like having no head This consciousness, This single eye That can compass All. Nothing separate Everything connected.

The Eye In The Dark Starts To See The Light The Eye in the Dark starts to see the Light. What is this single eye? Searching in the dark, A penetrating sight That pierces to the core. This dark light This soul light Earth‟s deepest mystery Light of life‟s longing Light of nature Light of matter Hidden in every heart‟s Beating treasure.





DAWN MATRIX In October 2010 something changed, everything changed, it was subtle but tangible in these groups. It was apparent that something had happened affecting the life of the whole, it was there present within the collective. This was very baffling and hard to articulate, for how does one articulate such a certain „unknowing‟ with any clarity? All I can say in an attempt to express this, is that it was as if humanity had made a choice, as if we had turned our backs on life and failed to step over a threshold, as witnessed in Llewellyn‟s example of the Climate Change Summit held in Copenhagen, where all the world leaders chose short term goals and vested interest over responsibility for life here on Earth. That a great opportunity has been missed is apparent, we are still behaving like truculent selfish teenagers and refusing to step into the full responsibility of adulthood. The felt sense was also of a line having being drawn in the sand and what was past was now just that, past, gone, that we are now in a sort of freefall where nothing is certain, where there is nothing to hold onto, where everything that we have taken as safe and solid is now shifting, melting away on the flood - tide. This new era in the life of our planet was heralded in these groups by images of a new dawn, blood red on the horizon. Blood red, which brought in such questions such as „just when does blood die? Blood in the sense of the blood spilt in battle, the bad blood between nations or the enmity between yourself and your neighbour, or that within your own family and that lies between man and woman. When and how does blood die? This mysterious life-giving substance that can flow from any wound, whether emotional, physical or psychological. There is something also so potent in the image of the dawn, so ancient, ever changing and yet so familiar, literally an integral part of every day we live. This dawn may be blood red, as a heed or warning, even as an ominous portent, but dawn is ever a beginning, with everything in potential, everything possible, a complete unknown. With the dawn anything is possible because the past dose not really exist. With the dawn we are graced literally with a new beginning and we have been asked to be fully present with the dawn each morning. To do this is to come to know and experience such sweetness and such hope and infinite possibility flooding the horizon, it is to experience everything in potential and to notice how we block and limit this, maybe only moments later, when we step back into our habitual selves and the routines of the day. Expressions like 'with the dawn comes hope' are such familiar clichés, but ones that speak a great truth.


The challenge for each and everyone of us is not to drag the weight of our past into this present moment, but to really take responsibility for every aspect of the life going on all around us, to connect with and experience the sacred in everything, which is to live in a state of prayer.

Breathe with the Earth, Hold the seeds of the new in your heart, Carry the Earth in your heart, As close and as intimate as a child in the womb, Weave her soul light into every fibre of your day.


Dragonâ€&#x;s Breath This dragonâ€&#x;s breath Of mist and fog Exhales the morning Awake with Infinite possibilities. Every day my heart wakes up To salute the dawn This mystery This new sun rising before me. The vulture of my grasping mind Drifts silently on the wind To circle down Now lost to sight. This freedom from the frenzied collective To hear instead The whispering all around Of tree and bird And wind and wild flower, Everything communicating This sacred hum of life. Even when the wind Makes the branches dance And the tall trunks sway There is this sweetness And a stillness Silent Listening Of the Heart of All. Sunlight falling through The canopy of leaves Awakens the senses Elemental beings Crowding round Silent in the spark light Of those Remembering God.


Dawn O to write an Ode to the sun Like Keats' or Shelley's outpourings. It's the same old sun they gazed upon Can we see it - the glory, I mean? Thank God the birds do it Singing and praising As the sun lights up the dark horizon (man is asleep) And they even have a rehearsal As if striving for perfection (only the perfect for the Perfect) Day after day, a witness to the rising light.


Active Imagination: Let your mind settle like ripples melting into the smooth surface of still water. A quiet mind, resting in that liminal place between waking and sleeping, dreaming and deep sleep, thinking and meditating. Now the first finger of dawn touches your eye-lid with an invitation to come see this new wonder! This most glorious day. A day unlike any other. With the first ray of sunlight birds cry the song of creation loving God. Feel the air caressing your cheek, it is so soft, like the breath of those new born. Look all about you, for this is a new day and unlike any other. A vast plane lies spread before you, the whole landscape is your being, is your body as familiar as your hand. Everything communing without words, touching, greeting, sharing, nothing hidden. Even the traffic of the city is part of this sacred hum of life with the soft chant of Angels gilding the morning breeze, and far off the soughing of the ocean reaches you as the tide turns a great turning. The pulse of all sentient beings, seen and unseen, is drumming through your blood, Your heart ceaselessly praying silent on the air. Oh! This is a day unlike any other. See how each dewdrop sparkles, like a thousand suns, and the light filtering through the trees makes the leaves shiver with the magic of the moment. This is a day unlike any other, and one that you have longed for. Look! Even a discarded bag dances like a young girl as the river plays with all the flotsam, tossing it here and there. Listen to the ice melt and the salmon run and the mighty furnace of the sun. Something is calling, calling, and you are willing to go and go and go. You have waited so long for this call, this longing to arrive at this most sacred of places, most sacred of spaces, this gathering, this moment that is both in and outside time. Here are your sisters, here are the Grandmotherâ€&#x;s of wisdom, here are the Midwives of the future, the Teachers and all children yet unborn. Look at the soul-light that surrounds you and enfolds you. Feel their joy, their compassion, their kindness, their devotion, their clarity and vision. There is a womanâ€&#x;s white form approaching within the mist of the dawn. You know her true name, Welcome her, for she has long been denied, vilified and neglected. Ask how you may serve her. There is something she has to give you before your returning, Something given as a trust but only if you are willing . Be sure to thank her.


Hilariously Tender At this time Here we are, Taking nothing seriously Least of all ourselves. So how does one live This life On the shifting sands of time? As the landslips And the light cleaves down A sword of reproaches And the buildings rearrange themselves As the mud and flood storm in. And the old wood cracks and splits In the continuous onslaught Of this mechanised madness, And still falling as we do everyday Into the jaws of a Ravening consumerism. Yet this first finger of a new light Dawn light Is hilariously tender As it lifts the lid off our sleeping selves This gift, this shift of consciousness Is so awesome in its simplicity.



Blood Red Dawn On the horizon A blood red dawn. Birds silent No expectations No night to morn To cry about. Moving above the line In her deep red gown Nothing to define Just awesomeness lingering. She birthing herself Saying nothing at all. O that I wish A picture to form A poem to write itself Heralding in the day, But no Nothing, Nothing and nothing Is her song Her dance Her passage Her birthright Re-aligning shafts of time.





SEEDS OF LIGHT For years now I have been grappling with the baffling resistance within myself and within humanity towards change and accountability. Having seen the opportunities that we have been given, each in our own lives but also collectively (especially in the past decade), the question is always why are we so resistant to taking full responsibility and this question irks me like a persistent nail in the shoe. More recently I have been reflecting on the nature of shame, ranging from shame of the body, shame at the root of self-harming and the shame felt as a consequence of our actions. Then with the summit in Copenhagen it seemed that a deep shame was present at the root of all the anger, at all the failure to take responsibility and that this was undermining our ability to be fully accountable for what we have done and are doing to the Earth. Shame engenders, more than anything else, a withdrawal and a deep resistance to engaging with life or of responding to life in a new way. Is this what is at the root of our collective resistance to the needs of this time? Looking the root of the word up in a dictionary, I came across 'bashful, modest and shy' and suddenly was catapulted back into the Old Testament, to Genesis and the Fall, with Adam and Eve hiding themselves from the Lord. When they tasted of the fruit they hid from God 'in shame', and are most of us for most of the time still hiding for the same reason? And now when Humanity needs to wake up and welcome the Divine back into creation, I am left wondering if underlying all our resistance is a deep unacknowledged and unconscious sense of shame. Is it shame that lies at the deepest point in the Western psyche, from the moment when we first turned away from God, and I am asking if this sense of shame is also held there, present on the level of the soul, which is why it is so difficult for us to face up to it? Has humanity come full circle? The challenges that we are currently faced with, all the consequences of humanity turning away from the sacred, are we now back at this moment or place of 'exile and return' only to discover that we would rather put our heads in the sand and court disaster? Are we paralysed by the fear of facing the shame that arises from the knowledge that we turned our backs on God and His creation? Could this deep shame, if we can move beyond fear and not confuse shame with feelings of guilt, actually be a gateway to the Divine? Though this time we live in may seem dark and difficult my prayer is: May the grace of God flow into the world through the hearts of men and women who love this Earth, His glorious creation Seeding Light.


Imagination Everything in existence comes out of imagination Our thoughts our fantasies Our children and creativity So why does this particular impulse Or that particular notion come to fruition Whilst this one over here or that one just arisen, Silts back down into dark oblivion? Daily we fish at lifeâ€&#x;s pool like children with a jam jar and a string. We have forgotten that we are casting our line into a great ocean. My bucket is drawn up from this deep well of existence One pull at a time. Still I cannot avoid inundation The flood of terrors and wild ecstasy. We are such fragile selves We cannot grasp the whole of it Nor look the sun directly in the eye Nor own the dire responsibility For what we have done This travesty and tyranny of our time A time that has us on the run every minute every moment Gripped in a vortex of desires. Life longs to lift us out beyond this madness Alas our time here is no longer elastic But stretched to breaking.



„‟Today I felt that we touched the edge of something so potent, that is as vulnerable as a baby leveret, but also as powerful as the cauldron and furnace of the Dark Sun. Something being tempered at the heart of creation and within humanity? Which is such a mystery that my mind still can not grasp the whole of it.”

“What has stayed with me from this latest gathering, was that when we went very deep we found that some light has now come into places that were only dark before. In these places, there was now maybe just a point of light or points of light or a diffuse light, but the difference was tangible. It gladdened our hearts.”


A Strange Vision Of seeing an ancient cave hidden within the earth, that has the first drawings of humanity on its walls. Those first steps in the heartâ€&#x;s articulation, giving artistic expression to the mysterious relationship between the human and the divine within life. Alongside this image was a new cave that has just opened up deep within the earth, which was at one and the same time in a city centre with what looked like new graffiti on a wall.

It was reminiscent of watching a very young child grab hold of a pencil and make his first awkward marks on paper. This graffiti was like that, a scrawl, a first attempt, with all the impetus of the spontaneous expression of something so new but not yet in a form that we can 'read' or recognise.


Vision I have a sense of the surface of the water being linked to the way mankind views the world as just being 'for the taking'. The wholeness and vastness of the fathomless ocean, its cosmic power, is ignored. It's all about using the sea for human activity, sadly ignorant of the incredible circular pull and flow of water around the entire globe. A sense of a light - a star - shining inside the lit-up blue-green water, as if rising below the horizon. Bright and coming up from very deep, through the majestic pull and suck of the sea on every shore of the planet. Vision During the inner journey in the Anima Mundi workshop in The Tent (March 2011) we arrived at a chamber under the earth within which was a crystal- clear pool. There was a narrow beam of light from above leading into our hearts, and also the constant chiming of a bell. Within the pool there was a point of light that I recognised as the star that someone had seen recently waiting to be born beneath the sea. As I realised this, the point of light in the pool exploded outwards and light was pouring into the earth all around. We were asked to return to the surface at this juncture, and as I stepped onto the ground I realised that my hair was full of scintillae of light belonging to this star. The quality of the starlight was different from the light from above, brilliant, and a silvery lilac-blue. When I shook my head the drops of starlight fell all around on the dry parched earth.


When True Beauty Is Born When true beauty is born She sings a singing of the unborn Presence before time as man marks it. When true beauty is born – Born of an ageless age She is no more than the presence Of the all that grows a wing to fly, A grass to sprout itself high into the sky That is everything we walk through. O beauty, in my innermost feeling You expand outside to reach the cloud, The rain that falls, the star to shine. O beauty, you take my hand, Caress my heart, Shine my eyes.


The Light Must Come Down The light must come down And we must be the hollow reed Through which His Light flows With every inhil-exhilation From above Down here below As above So below With every breath touching God.


How Can I Tell You How can I tell you as it comes into being seeing and seeing, And it is like that; just like that As the bat flies in the night skies close to earth Or the nightingale, the crab, the oyster opening its shell And I say to you as I have always said it is just like that, The daisy in the grass shining like the sun and moon eclipsed, Joined and the branch of the tree reaching, swaying, Holding the nest of the young ones singing the dawning day, O dearest ones it is for me to say that a galaxy shines in a Dewdrop and a dewdrop is the ocean and the ocean is the river Flowing from the well where the salmon comes to spawn a new Generation civilization that says each sentence as a prayer of Communication and fulfillment desecration reclamation tides Over tides, rainbows arching the mid night hour of a darkened Night that twinkles, remembers who we are and might be, O soul song of a million, million souls spawning into being, Cradling the unborn moment the new day, the new breath of Being, seeing and I say to you as I also say to myself, Take care, care not to take, care not to hold what cannot be held. O the souls song of a twinkling of an eye, O the curve of a new breath O not to be said in the head To be sung from the heart who lives in the soul of all there is Coming going being still as the web spins herself another Joins another knot that joins another and another Round and round and round all together and together And together.


Sitting In Silence Sitting within this silence Not even the fridge Can generate any Real interference. What is in this silence that is so seductive to the soul A dissolution down to essence? Will there be anything that gets up To catch that train home? Something here is waking up But I do not see humanity As I understand it Walking into this future. Maybe only a small tribe Like the Invisible people Of the Amazon. Forest folk Melting in and out like shadows Glimpsed only for a moment Then vanished. Resembling a subtle fragrance on the breeze That captivates the senses But will not be caught Bottled and sold.



What Longs To Be Lived What longs to be lived is almost always what‟s been left undone, Or calls for expression from the deepest place – Barely known to daily life, But longing to be heard amidst the audible, Be seen amongst the visible and felt within the sensible – A scent on the breeze, A note in the air, A flavour longed for on the tongue, Tasting and telling of nourishment in subtle ways – Glimpses of hidden waterways and depths, Of places far beneath the surface where fresh springs are always singing, Always the source of new inspiration Somewhere long ago known, Awaiting fulfilment at the wellhead, Water drawn from a reservoir of delight and ever-renewed wonder. Yet not the same paths, nor the worn route, but secret steps And hidden reaches within each human being – In response to love, to belonging, To accessing the most deeply liveable ways – Not the easy rhythm, but a song calling the soul, Longing to be lived and sung – The inaudible note, the invisible thread, an unknown taste, A perfume not of this world – A touch of the unknown hand.




To Be A Chamber For New Birth To be a chamber for new birth Or clothe a soul in flesh and skin, To house the numinous on earth, And bring alive what‟s yet unseen. The hidden substance in our cells Manifesting power as life Invisibly, within the self, Love shapes the nothing out of light. A vessel for what wants to be, With vigilance to tend love‟s fire, Respond with every faculty And turn to gold as love desires! Soul of the world, no lesser child, Demand the very all of me Such longing, calling from the wild, To be born in Life‟s totality.



The Seeds Of Creation Listening, as usual, to the song of a small bird singing outside the window in a bush. The song took me down an invisible thread into the darkness out of which creation comes, within which I could see the seeds of creation, a handful of small golden seeds. The seeds were also in my womb and in the earth. For the following hour I held the golden seeds in the darkness of my womb and at the same time prayed in my heart. The experience was intense and there was so much light. I wondered if this was how the new creation would be born, through women holding its seeds in their bodies until the time was ripe? Finally the seeds began to open, and I saw the new, Already complete and whole inside.



Incubation Do I know what this is? What does it mean to incubate? To hold in stillness and silence until something is ripe and ready to be born? A premature baby is placed in an incubator - but this is not quite it. A mother chicken sits on her eggs - but this is only a part of it. Incubation has to be a time of waiting, a time of stillness, a time, most of all, of unknowing. We cannot know the moment when the process is complete (if process it is), when the old will break away and the new will be born. Incubation is not about thinking; it is not about doing. It is an active state of inactivity. The mind knows nothing; even the heart goes still. It is neither dynamic nor a state of inner peace. There is an inner knowing that this is what one has to do. One doesn't know why. One knows not what will be born - if anything. Maybe nothing will be born. So one waits in silence, and without hope. Incubation demands trust. It demands acceptance, patience, poverty, renunciation - those 7 stations of the path the Teachers talk about, all combined in one. It is a difficult place for us so used to action, creativity and usefulness, for all these things are taken away. Instead there is helplessness and vulnerability, in the knowledge that there is nothing that we can do and ultimately it is not up to us. There is no one, nothing, no future and no past, in other words no sense of time. There is neither light nor darkness, neither emptiness nor fullness, neither joy nor pain. It is intensely still, even when one is moving, intensely quiet, even when one speaks. Some deep inner alchemy may be taking place – or maybe not. All these words merely touch the edge of it. And the staying with it takes all there is.


The Cataclysmic Ordinary The cataclysmic ordinary swept us all away And the flood of atomic newness flowed in. Washed clean but bewildered, where do we stand? Looking around, Dripping and tattered, what do we see? A cleansing and something so new that the mind canâ€&#x;t comprehend it. Colours beyond colours and such magnificence that there is awe at The Majesty Of the origin and the Originator. Wait and see. The excitement of the new.



With deep gratitude to all the women who have opened up their hearts, especially those of you who have hosted these gatherings and helped with all the practicalities, in appreciation of all your warm hospitality and generosity of spirit. Thanks in acknowledgement also to all who have gifted the work within these pages and for the joy of just being together, listening to life sparkling all around.



The Return Of The Feminine And The World Soul

By Llewellyn Vaughan-Lee www.workingwithoneness.org Ulrike Pahl Anima Mundi Seminares www.anima-mundi-seminare.org Black Sun www.alchemywebsite.com Shambhala Prophecy www.bethechangeearthalliance.org

Back and front cover: ‘Khidre’ The Perennial Teacher who is found at the place where the two seas meet and the dead fish comes alive again



Profile for Jackie Crovetto

Seeds of Light- from Earth Song  

This compilation of writings and images have emerged from a number of small gatherings held in the West Country and London over the last fo...

Seeds of Light- from Earth Song  

This compilation of writings and images have emerged from a number of small gatherings held in the West Country and London over the last fo...

Profile for isthmus

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