Tag Archives: Synchronicity

An unrecognized alien

I have not done this for a while. To randomly pick a book and open the page and read a paragraph. It is a type of trance effort. Some of the worst and best loved characters that I have read or studied live in a kind of trance world.   A place of myth, magic and raised consciousness.  William Blake, Carl Jung and the pitiful creature known as Adolf Hitler. I am studying Hitler’s biography now. I was amazed how his and their lives moved in the same worlds.

William Blake “Pity”

Blake is a marvelous visionary and artist. He inspires humanity to think and brings beauty in reach of our grasp. Jung heals humanity with his depth psychology. Hitler inverts compassion and goodness. He shows us what the worst part of human nature is. They all use their unique wills to inspire or destroy. Blake and Jung show us that humanity is a wondrous reality. They have dived into their unconscious, and show us luminous stars and a good conscience.  We find our history and our future with inspired foresight; what it is to do good for humanity. Blake keeps the best and the worst at bay while focusing his will to ascend to transcendence. Hitler did this too.  To understand him, his world, one becomes aware of a trance of darkness; he is a mythologist of national German superhuman qualities…of what it is to be demonically insane!  He is without a touch of human soul or spirit! No sparks make him human. Hitler is the trance of a monster! How can anyone in their right mind address such a hideous freak as him with a salute?

Mozart Magic Flute `Karl Friedrich Schinkel

The place of science, math and technology works in our modern age.  The worlds of Blake, Jung and Hitler are different. One cannot superimpose our current world upon theirs. Which leads me to the randomly picked book and paragraph today.

“It is one of the wonders of human existence that a person can live a long and happy life without once becoming aware of the reality of consciousness and its ability to transcend the immediate physical level. At the instant of death, will time suspend its rule long enough for such people to realize what they missed?”

~ Pg. 153 Jacques Vallee, Confrontations; A scientist’s Search for Alien Contact.

I love Vallee. He is the scientist that places himself in the world of myth, magic and raised consciousness! He does not ignore art or music either. He rings the heart of a compassion that wants to know. He transcends a nationalist myth blending with Blake’s “universal humanity,” or Jung’s “collective unconscious.”

“In his late works, he embodied these and other ills in the nightmare ridden figure of the cosmic giant Albion, or universal humanity, who has fallen in to deadly sleep of mundane existence. In humanity’s coma, the divine is a remote and forbidding sky-god: nature a sterile heap of atoms, lovers and family members, enemies; and one’s own innermost being, an unrecognized alien.”

~Blake’s Poetry & Designs ` A Norton Critical Edition.

 

 

The traitorous Monostatos appears with the Queen of the Night and her three ladies. They plot to destroy the temple (“Nur stille, stille“) and the Queen confirms that she has promised her daughter Pamina to Monostatos. But before the conspirators can enter the temple, they are magically cast out into eternal night.

 

 

 

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/trance/

August: Spear of Destiny

“In Goethe’s world conception, which is of a magical nature, both man’s [humanities] spiritual and physical existence is related to the whole Universe of Stars, Sun and Planets. Just as man is not limited to his [hers] physical body, which Goethe conceived as the garment of both soul and spirit, the stars are not considered as simply meaningless massed formed in a three-dimensional space time continuum. Rather , Goethe regarded the heavenly orbs as the outer physical expression of Spiritual Beings, higher nonhuman Intelligences, which radiate spiritual and qualitative forces with their operative orbits. ~Pg. 162-3 The Spear of Destiny  by Trevor Ravenscroft

I hate August. I am whispering, in case she is listening. It is the heat, humidity and trials that come alone. This month we have retrogrades, a moon and a sun making a big deal about their place in the heavens. I get it. It is a lovely galactic symphony. So come the trials. Some are big and some very subtle and diabolically a pain in the ass. I try to keep sensible and logical, which I learned from my  oldest son. It is hard to sometimes be logical and  I turn to my passions. So the books start to come. I show a little interest in something from my past and the books will come. These are two of them another in on the way.  Not my doing it is my darn husband. He has a statistical and chess mind. He thinks that by getting me these books that interest me, he can buy more chess books. So be it. I guess those Rosy stories have been whispering in my ear as of late. As I said, it is that time of the year when chaos can be a good thing. From the cracks in the universe we find special gifts like pearls. I shall go with the flow now… so have a good August… stay hopeful.

The Pearl image I created when I originally read The Chemical Wedding of Christian Rosenkreuz…. years ago.

To my lullaby surrender
Warm and tender is my breast
Mother’s arms with love caressing
Lay their blessing on your rest
Nothing shall tonight alarm you
None shall harm you, have no fear
Lie contented, calmly slumber
On your mother’s breast, my dear

Here tonight I tightly hold you
And enfold you while you sleep
Why, I wonder, are you smiling
Smiling in your slumber deep?
Are the angels on you smiling
And beguiling you with charm
While you also smile, my blossom
In my bosom soft and warm?

Have no fear now, leaves are knocking
Gently knocking at our door
Have no fear now, waves are beating
Gently beating on the shore
Sleep, my darling, none shall harm you
Nor alarm you, never cry
In my bosom sweetly smiling
And beguiling those on high

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/symphony/

 

The Seminary of Praying Mantis Promtion

Happy May Day !!

A Grace for your pleasure, she is one of three that inspires the Muses of the arts…

Euphrosyne

William Blake – From the Nudes category:
The nakedness of woman is the work of God. (William Blake)

 

Red Rose

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Over thirty years ago
Finding a red rose
stained glass
five petals.

At a common thrift store
then, upon my wall
after,  a gift to mother
upon her wall.

Now upon my wall, again
a symbol
now I know
it means good magic
supporting me
all along…

Rose Vase

“Midsummer night upon the sword,
Knights and squires are standing guard,
In the grove knightly dance they tread
With torches and garlands of roses red”

~ Johannes Steenstrup, CHR The Medieval Popular Ballad, 1968

Much Ado…

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“Silence is the perfectest herault of joy. I were but little happy if I could say how much.”
William Shakespeare, Much Ado About Nothing

Tear: Sharing my experience, opinion my subconscious perspective.

crying-indian-tear

A Matter of Life and Death (1946) Conductor 71, professor Snape in Harry Potter 7, and President Obama recently came together for me via a tear. A film, a book and a real life happening. It could be life imitating art or art imitating life. All three made an impression of me within the last couple months.

It was a tear in a film that was captured by a character from a woman in love.  He put the tear on his rose and inspired a lawyer in heaven to win a case for a man in love.

It was in a book where a dying man gave a tear to someone to show his love for another. To save and share a memory.

It was a real life tear that the President shed today, a tear for lost children due to a terrible act of violence.

All three came together for me today. It is a synchronicity experience in a symbolic tear and a real tear that to me represents a subjective feeling part of my human soul and conscience.

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To cry for love, grief, joy or saddens inspired by the art of a writer or real life person is a worthy experience. I was touched by a film, book and the act of a real person and I feel that for me it is wonderful that I can have art imitate life, or life imitate art in my own inward experience.

In one of my first college English classes I was taught that the objective and the subjective can cross over as in a metaphor yet more often as a simile.

“Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?

Thou art more lovely and more temperate” … Sonnet 18 Shakespeare

It may be existential and philosophical to be inspired by a book or a film, and real life tear expressed freely and sincerely shared with the world.

Why a tear comes to mean something to me is amazing. Why it clicked together in my mind and caught the attention of my heart who can say. Yet I know poets and writers ponder on many things… and I am sure I am not the first to wonder about a tear romantically, lovingly, or sadly. Be it form a book, a film or real life experience.

 

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/unpopular/

Leaping times of resistance and change …

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In the Creative Process:

“Make your obstructions or limitations productive by stimulating greater intensity of thought and a deeper sense of spiritual freedom” ~ The William Blake Tarot Cards

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Seldom Forgotten

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“1940 is the year when we approach the meridian of the first star in Aquarius. It is the premonitory earthquake of the New Age.” We see how Jung considered earthly occurrences in a cosmic context, with an eye toward the approach of the Age of Aquarius, which was supposed to come after the Age of Pisces in the global calendar. This fact, differently interpreted by the various esoteric groups, was frequently connected with an “age of enlightenment” and great steps forward in spiritual progress. But it is not seldom forgotten that spiritual maturity carries the price of great suffering and severe trials. As Jung was certainly clearly aware of this aspect…” Pg. 333-334, The Second World War, Jung: A biography.

New Age, Age of Aquarius and “age of enlightenment” always put a little fear in me. At this time of the year the dead whisper their stories through dreams, books and biographies. This Sunday I pulled my random book. I started reading randomly. The above quote from Carl Jung’s biography pulled at me. Directly pulling at reflections and meditations of the day.

After an early meditation outside near the bomb shelter; small rough golden and dark green leaves falling from the Cyprus tree onto my head, then down to my lap. Looking up I saw a small song bird right above me on a branch chirping and giving itself a cleaning. I was focused on it. The coolness in the air calmed me as I looked up away further to see another bird flying. A white bird; a seagul or maybe an owl. It was flying South West. A large bright bird highlighted by the rising sun.  In my wonder I then looked down to see that the little song bird had left a white bird poop on my lap.

“Nasty little bird…I think I get the hint!!”

I got up and walked towards the house. Both female cats disturbed by my movement, as they had found a temporary warm home near my legs and feet.

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/1984/

Kamakiri

John Steinbeck wrote in The Log from the Sea of Cortez, “It is advisable to look from the tide pool to the stars and then back to the tide pool again.”[1]

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Viewing Before Cremation

While cleaning the pool, brushing the autumn leaves away, I looked down to see Kamakiri ! Silently floating. Away to the stars goes this pearl !  So current a message, symbolic and ritualistic, of a little green body acknowledging this season.

Random Pick Book day is Sunday; “shape the raw creative vision.”

On this Super Full Moon in Pisces where my emotions take over every little hair on my body. I think the long hand of mantis is pulling randomly. A green-golden flash pulls forth a book dusty on the shelve. Portraits and Observations The Essays of Truman Capote. The book is opened to A Voice from a Cloud. I usually only read the first paragraph but so satisfied , my eyes wander with my desire to read two.

“…mysterious, deep, very clear creek…wade and swim in the pure water…”

“One frosty December afternoon I was far from home, walking in a forest along the bank of a mysterious, deep, very clear creek, a route that led eventually to a place called Hatter’s Mill. The mill, which straddles the creek, had been abandoned long ago; it was a place where farmers had brought their corn to be ground into cornmeal. As a child, I’d often gone there with cousins to fish and swim; it was while exploring under the mill that I’d been bitten in the knee by a by a cottonmouth moccasin-precisely as happens to Joel Knox. And now as I came upon the forlorn mill with its sagging silver-gray timbers, the remembered shock of the snakebite returned; and other memories too-of Idabel, or rather the girl who was the counterpart of Idabel, and how we used to wade and swim in the pure waters, where fat speckled fish lolled in sunlit pools; Idabel was always trying to reach out and grab one.” Pg. 283 Par. 2.

“In toto” as a whole : totally or completely

” Excitement-a variety of creative coma-overcame me. Walking home, I lost my way and moved in circles round the woods, for my mind was reeling with the whole book. Usually when a story comes to me, it arrives, or seems to, in toto: a long sustained streak of lighting that darkens the tangible, so-called real world, and leaves illuminated only this suddenly seen pseudo-imaginary landscape, a terrain alive with fingers, voices, rooms, atmospheres, weather. And all of it, at birth, is like an angry, wrathful tiger cub; one must sooth and tame it. Which, of course, is an artist’s principal task: to tame and shape the raw creative vision.” Page 283, Par 3.