Spring~From Imbolc to Ostara

Spring is a Magic Cat

So it's coming around again and the air is full of new life. This is for me is a wonderful time of re-incarnation, growth and change. I went to see Liz a few days ago and spent a sunny morning in her garden with my camera.

I like to get in really close - the more fine detail I can see, the more spiritual it all becomes.

From infinitely small to infinitely big. There is a consistent pattern in nature, from the smallest particle, to the full extent of the expanding universe - and we are all a part of it.

Liz has the garden laid out beautifully, with trees and bushes, plants and flowers - and a pond that is home to two frogs, who have survived the winter under the ice. They appeared last spring and have lived under the stones since then. I've only seen one of them, and that was just a leg frog-paddling from under a stone. But that leg was big (well around 4 to 5 inches) but it's quite big enough for here, if not for Texas.

(Unless you've got warp-speed broadband, I suggest you click on play on the video and then click pause - it should be loaded by the time you've read this post. Also, if you then double-click on the screen above, you'll get a larger HD version)

Liz saw them, lying on the stones and basking in the sun last summer - So my ambition is to photograph them both when the weather gets warmer.

Imbolc commences at the beginning of February and goes through until the Spring Equinox, or Ostara.

Ostara is the Goddess and the womb of the earth. She is symbolised by the Easter Egg and her name derives from the same root as oestrogen - the female hormone. Beltane will see her meet and unite with the God. The old religion was earthy and worshipped life and growth in perhaps a more unashamed way than religious practice today. In those times, people lived closer to the earth and were more aware and vulnerable to the change of the seasons. Rural life depended on many hands to do the work and it was important that a new bride was able to bear children and that the bridegroom had fertile seed. In order to ensure the survival and growth of the community, the bedding and the first signs of new life, would often precede the wedding.

But Ostara is still young, she has only just met her suitor and together they dance, with eyes cast down...

...Until Beltane, when the May Queen is crowned and calleth her bridegroom.

The term 'Pagan' can cause people to shudder (or feel a frisson of excitement) as it's meaning has shifted toward that which is considered evil. Paganism actually embraces the veneration of the life-force, it's name deriving from the Latin 'Pagus' which means locality.

In the temperate regions of the Northern Hemisphere, this is a time of new light and growth. A time to open windows in both house and mind and let the freshness of the new air, clear away old fears and habits. A new beginning.

In the locality of the Southern Hemisphere, the Goddess is now the bountiful mother - but her fertility is ending - She sings the truth of Lughnasadh and the harvest to come, as she slowly weaves the silver threads of Samhain into his golden hair...

In Australia, Imbolc occurs on August 12th, followed in September by the Spring Equinox or Ostara.

On our earth and beyond, endings are also beginnings. Gaia the Earth-Mother wears a patchwork dress of many colours.

Below is an Imbolc video from Oz - (double-click on the screen to watch the large version, and then click the HD button to watch in High Definition if you can - it makes a big difference to this particular Video)

A Good Omen

I have learned to listen to the whispers. Last summer, a cat turned up at my kitchen door and made friends with me. At the time I was writing about Midsummer and the approach of the harvest of Lughnasadh - so I called the creature 'Noone'. It seemed to fit, not only because the year was at it's peak but also because Noone was also No-One. It reminded me of a line from the poem 'Anyone lived in a pretty How Town' by EE Cummings

"Noone and anyone Earth by April - Wish by Spirit and If by Yes"

At that time, I had just written the following lines...

It is Midsummer and the Noone-Time of the Solstice has grown to the full heat of the afternoon sun. Leo stands rampant, with the orb of the earth and the sickle of Lammas within his grasp. The Goddess sings the truth of Lughnasadh and the harvest to come, as she slowly weaves the silver threads of Samhain into his golden mane...

...and Noone appeared.

I hoped that Noone would visit me often and I bought a tin of cat food, but that was the last I saw of the little creature, until last Sunday, when I was putting my first video together. I was thinking about Noone as I uploaded a photograph of the creature's beautiful green eyes...then...

Noone appeared around my kitchen door and burrowed it's head in my hand, purring and rolling on the floor by my feet. Noone stayed a while and then left, but not before turning and giving one last gaze with those beautiful green eyes and then leaving me with a smile.

(I shall wear it often)

soulMerlin

ps: I've bought yet another tin of cat-food.

To read about my first visit from Noone, go to "Natural Spirit - Meeting Noone"

If your interested in natural spirituality, try and get a copy of "Paganism" by Vivianne Crowley. The Amazon link is here, they are temporarily out of stock - but order one in advance of the next consignment - it's a small, easy-to-read and beautifully written book (and it's only $12)

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a mooncake and simplicity

My Depression returned last Thursday. The weather in Glasgow didn't help much. It had been cold since our arrival and 'last Thursday' was the coldest night of all.

At times when I could fight with a feather, I head off to the nearest restaurant - there is nothing like good food and a bottle of red wine, to lift the spirit in moments of gloom.

Across the way from the theatre there stood a Japanese/Chinese emporium built in a curious circular shape, like an ancient temple - so I wrapped up (because it really was biting, with a hard, chilling wind) and shuffled over the mucky roadworks and through the queues of gridlocked tin boxes to the haven of peace and warmth at the other side.

(this is the third post I have made recently about crossing a road and reaching a door, to get to safety)

I was half-way through my meal, when the owner came over. "Oh", she said "I thought you were Chinese. "It's the way you eat."

I always use chopsticks and a rice bowl when I eat Chinese or Japanese food. I was taught by a dancer from China, in the late 70's and the habit has stuck. I find the food really does taste better when eaten with wooden chopsticks, rather than cold steel. I personally find plastic chopsticks have a synthetic feel. Simple wooden chopsticks - not lacquered, are the best for me - it's easier to grip food with them (and hold them).

Lin-Lin instructed me with regimental zeal...

"No! No!" - "Hold between thumb and first finger! Also pressing against second!.."

"Rice bowl Up! Up closer to mouth!"

"Now scoop!"

 

thirty years ago.

 

Before my Stonehenge Epiphany, I had a tendency to be a bit of a stand-offish old fogey  - especially if I was busy eating and thinking (and drinking) in a restaurant. Thankfully the magic of the old stone has remained and I now understand why I should try to make it there every year.

I still feel shy, but I like the warmth, when I reach out.

 

So I thanked the owner for her comments on my eating skills and (mistakenly?) told her that I was performing in the show opposite her rotunda. I could hear the strains of "There's No Business like..." as one by one I was introduced to the entire staff. Finally I was invited (dragged over) to join in the karaoke...

 

I declined.

 

(politely)

 

It was a step too far. Even though I chunter through my "Jacob" lines each night "Joseph's Mother, she was quite my favourite wife..." The concept of Old Father Time (I'm 65 on the 25th) shaking his hips and singing "Is this the way to Amarillo?",  together and at odds with a backing-group of assorted waiters and cooks  - singing that chorus, over and over and over again to startled patrons (who had probably just seen me in the theatre) was too much to bear.

I had started to leave, when a waitress approached and handed me a fortune cookie. Most times, I leave them alone at the end of a meal - but the way it was offered to me, made me take it. There was nothing in the outward shape of the gesture, or the quiet voice - the dynamic message came from the impulse within.

 

"Open It!"

 

It wasn't a prediction, it was a statement of something I have always known, but occasionally forget...

 

"All together now!" "Is this the way to..."

 

~

 

Later in my hotel room, the magic started to fade. After all, it was only a fortune cookie wrapped in tin-foil...

...So I looked up 'fortune cookies' - surfed around and found "The History of Fortune Cookies."

"For many centuries the Chinese have marked special occasions and festival times such as harvest and New Year with the giving and receiving of Moon Cakes..."

 

A reminder from the Universe, sealed in a traditional Chinese Mooncake, seemed more plausible and substantial than a message on a slip of paper from a mass-produced cracker. 

It was the same message - but my spiritual snobbery was reluctant to admit it.

 

As I search for complications to justify my belief, I tend to ignore the obvious and simple.

 

The packaging around an object or a person,  has over-influenced me so many times.

I don't want to say 'too' many times, because I know that was my path.  

"in time of daffodils who know - the goal of living is to grow" ~ e.e. cummings

 

Happiness is a Fortune Cookie

 

The Chinese New Year is on the 26th

The year of the Ox

 

h

 

 

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Dolly's Daily Diary: Lovin Lemonade

Dolly's Daily Diary: Lovin Lemonade

Our Harvest

The Autumn Equinox

Monday 22^nd September

Today is the Autumnal Equinox, the centre of the Sun will spend a nearly equal amount of time above and below the horizon at every location on Earth and night and day will be of nearly the same length. Wikipedia 

I imagine a wine glass beginning to ring as a finger is traced around the rim as the earth matures and the yellow of summer deepens, like a rich harmony, through orange, red and brown, towards the Harvest of the year.

I think of myself and I know that I am now an autumn-child.

Last Sunday, Liz and I were pottering around in her back garden when I noticed that the pear trees were in fruit. It made a lovely sight and as I tried to capture the moments of sunlight with my camera, Liz told me how the trees came to be planted.

In his last year, my father and mother came to terms with his approaching death, by celebrating life at every opportunity. My mother loved to travel and her compensation for having a hard childhood, was to take as many holidays as possible – even after Dad passed away, she would plan and book coach tours and sailings to as many places as possible – the more distant the location, the better.

Dad was very frail, but he had the stamina of a man that was used to a life of physical labour. He was also strong-willed enough to persuade his doctor that he was well and able to go on holiday to Italy with Christina. It was to be their last holiday.

 

My mother loved fruit, especially small sweet oranges and pears. She used to love the sort of pear that was so juicy, eating one would become extremely messy, so she kept a small kitchen knife in her bag when she went out on her jaunts, together with a good amount of tissues. She would walk along the river banks in Durham and ‘have a sit-down’ on a bench; there she would take out the pear and cut it into strips, which she would eat – her outdoor banquet was usually completed with a piece of chocolate. I think it would be fair to say that fruit and chocolate were her favourite foods.

Northern Italy is a magnet for people who love wine, cheese and pears and my mother and father had a lovely holiday. Although wine was not to her taste, she would have loved the cheeses and the fruit and when she returned to England, she brought back the ‘pips’ – the seeds of the pears she had eaten – and planted them in her garden.

The first contact Liz had with the trees that now stand, almost in a circle, between the flowers and bushes, was when Christina arrived, bearing the small shoots she had grown from the seeds she had wrapped in tissue and brought home.

It was a quiet and wonderful feeling to know that my mother had eaten the fruit from which the trees that surrounded us had been born.

The passage that follows is one of the most spiritual pieces of writing about trees I have ever read:

"In the growing season, life courses with ceaseless vigour through trees and shrubs; the impression of stillness on the outside belies the intense activity inside. Vast quantities of mineral-rich water flow upwards through the new wood, from the roots to the highest leaves. Sugar-rich sap descends through the phloem, from the leaves to all parts of the tree. All of this energy is expressed in the tree’s growth, in its flowers and fruit, in the seed which it produces in massive quantities. In effect, every tree or shrub is one of life’s richest energy banks, storing food in its tissues, eventually returning everything to the earth when it dies and decomposes, immeasurably enriching the soil in which it stood rooted all its life."  (Readers Digest - Field Guide to the Trees and Shrubs of Britain)

I think of my mother and father and the richness they gave me and those around them.

The trees in Liz’s back-garden were full of their love.

 

My friend and fellow blogger, Robin Easton is trying to save a whole mountain range. She and Robb Kloss have only a few days to get enough signatures to save the Ruahines Mountain range in the southeastern part of the North Island of New Zealand.

http://nakedineden.com/nakedinedenblog/?p=541

Celebrating the seasons of this wonderful planet is a joy – to celebrate by saving not just the nine trees my mother brought back from Italy, wrapped in tissue, but a whole mountain range would be a fine way of giving thanks to nature for being part of it.

The harvest of our years is measured by how much we put in, compared with how much we take out.

My father passed away in my mothers arms. My mother adored him – and that was his harvest.

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Dolly's Daily Diary: I Love Your Blog

Dolly's Daily Diary: I Love Your Blog

Hold My Hand...

I have decided to withdraw this episode from the "Past Lives" series. The story below is based on actual events and experiences I had, whilst working in past life regression, in the 1970's - Therefore I have changed the names of the characters to those which have more personal relevance. I would however, like to thank Lilly of "Lilly's Life" for all the encouragement and cajolling she gave me - I would not have thought of writing the piece if she had not done so... (look for Lilly's posts on the sidebar to the right)

(26th August 2008) 

~

~"Hold my hand..."

Metcalfe lent forward and gently closed his large square hand around the trembling fingers. He had felt a growing affinity with Andrew, an affinity which at first he instinctively resisted, both as a professional man and also on a level he had no time - or so he told himself - to address at the present moment...

"...I have been waiting" she said firmly, with an unwanted smile playing on her lips

Hakon dismounted and studied the young face before him. Every excuse he could think of, flashed through his mind. Then he saw her eyes...

"I'm sorry" he said.

Her brown eyes flashed and twinkled with  the stars, as he took the small hand offered to him.

"You're a Dreamer Hakon. You forget time as you stand the dream and think." She paused  "And what do you think about?"

Brigid was jealous to be barred from any morsel of her lover, who stood reflected in her eyes like the shining god of the sun.

 

"What do you think of now"

Metcalfe chose the word "thinking" with a rapid care - something told him to be careful of going to far, too quickly.

Her young face slowly broadened into a wide grin.

"I am thinking I love you"

he said.

 

Metcalfe often found that he accompanied his subjects during their regression, often staying with them, like a disembodied voice or indeed a 'soul'. This time it was somehow more powerful.

"Who are you" Metcalfe's question was as gentle as it was inquisitive.

"My name is Brigid"

 

'Another female incarnation' he thought - he looked at Andrew - at the blue eyes and sandy-blonde hair,

"Where are you now?"

"Albeun"

 

Metcalfe could see from the corner of his eye, the sudden change of position as Eve leant toward her monitor screen. Then the rapid tap of the keyboard, followed by a silence as she waited for the information - then...

"Albeun was the ancient name of Great Britain, around the time of Jesus, or just after"  her voice was bell-like, but impassive.

There was something superior about Eve; "Damn superior" as the doctor would often mutter under his breath, as he watched her glide out of his office.

"If only she could be wrong - just once"

So Andrew had regressed to the first century, he looked at his assistant - Eve's face was oval and glowing, like the silent-

 

-scream of the ripened moon and the blood on the wheat.

Her grandmother had said to her (old hands on young shoulders) that soon her blood would flow, to course down her thighs and give new life to the earth...

...and there it was at last - but all too soon, as Hakon appeared above the reddened wheat and became, all at once, both still and silent.

"Hold my hand, I am dying"...

..and yet there was a drama of youth around the frightened voice - and a slightly too careful gathering of the brown fustian skirt that hung almost to her ankles - a gathering that somehow contrived to show a knee that still bore the scars of young-rough  games.

 

The nails cut through soft flesh

Hakon looked at her as she stood, below the sun and the moon, in the darkening blue of the sky.

She was all reddened eyes and sticky tears that mixed with the brown earth and the blood on her hands that she smeared across her face - like a prophecy of storm clouds.

The sun turned to fire, as it sank below the waves

"My sisters are older than me." said Hakon, smiling at the shy, burnished face.

And then - clouds of shame and  anger and knowing and happiness. Then - and just - laughing and giggling and making love, in the blood and the earth and the ripening wheat - with the storm clouds raging through the stars, as they hurled and blustered across the impassive face of the harvest moon.

"Your hand is bleeding Dr. Metcalfe." Eve held out a damp swab to wipe the blood from where Metcalfe's nails had dug deep into his left palm. She looked at him...

"...and I will freeze within your eyes"

thought Hakon, as he finished explaining that he would only be gone for two moonths. Suddenly he decided to Decide...

"I will return on the second night the  moon is full" he declared  (looking so young and important)

Brigid knew the truth and lowered her proud head so very slightly

"Are you sure you will return?"

Her face was anxious as she looked up at her young "sol-barn"

"I am sure", he said, not knowing if he spoke the truth or a lie. It would not matter either way to the wild girl who would stand barefoot in the blustering cold of the island, by the sea's margin and wait for him. Wait for him for ever if needs be.

"Then I will stand at this place each month and I will wait for you."

She stood before him - an Angel from the Moon

"My woman" he said, as he knelt before her.

"My man" she whispered - her eyes full of eternity.

 

Metcalfe quietly stood and stretched his legs. He turned and looked across at his young patient. Andrew seemed to be changing, like one superimposed photograph upon another. Metcalfe crossed the room and  leaned over the couch, peering down at the drawn face below him.

Andrew's eyes opened.

and they were brown.

 

A stern look from Eve steadied Metcalfe, bringing him back...

 

"...Where are you Brigid"

"I am on my island"

 

Metcalfe paused, took a deep breath and mouthed her answer as she replied

"lyndysfarne"

 

"Where?" repeated Metcalfe

"Lyndysfarne! Lyndysfarne!"

Andrew had vanished and a wild girl stared at him with wide brown eyes.

"Lyndysfarne, off shore from Bernicia."

 

Eve's fingers worked rapidly on the keyboard, then...

"Bernicia is the ancient name of Northumberland on the north-east coast of Britain and Lindisfarne, it's name unchanged by holiness and sanctity, is a small island no more than half a mile off-shore from the mainland"

It was perfect and yet unsettling for Metcalfe. Each time Brigid would speak, he found the words forming in his mouth at the same time.

Metcalfe sat back in his chair. "Dim the light Eve"

"I think I can see Lindisfarne."

The two lovers stumbled across the natural causeway back to the small island that could only be reached with the moon's permission and the tides abeyance.

"I will sail to the east  as the sun rises"

"Norway lies to the East"

Eve's voice was as faint as an echo as Metcalfe began to comprehend.

"Hold my hand"

Metcalfe held tight onto Brigid's hand, but a force he could not explain drew him away from the couch. His fingers gripped, until the flesh above his knuckles turned white

"Don't go" she screamed

"I will come back" he shouted against the roar of the tide.

"Hold my hand"

Metcalfe's grip finally broke and he staggered backward against the wall. He looked at the girl. She was reaching to him.

"Hold my hand" she screamed once more; then she tilted and fell, crumpling into a small sobbing ball on the floor by the couch.

Eve gently wiped the tears from Brigid's face as Metcalfe crouched quite close, but with care,

for this was a wild spirit.

"Did Hakon return?" asked Metcalfe, already knowing the answer

"No" said the old voice. "I journeyed to Lindisfarne every moonth, when the goddess was full with child. Each season passed and each year and each age. The island became my prison and through it's watery bars, the moon gazed at me from the infinity of her freedom, as my blood dried and my hair became woven with the silver threads of Samhain.  But each moonth at midnight, I would walk onto the margin of the sea and reach out and shout to the sky and the waves and the serpent wind."

"Then one night I heard him. I heard him and I knew that Hakon was calling to me from the sea..."

"...Hold my hand."

Metcalfe gently grasped the quivering hand

The moonlight reflected off Eve's oval face, as she stood in the shadows above them, gazing down as they knelt, with their eyes meeting and forming an endless corridor of reflections that curved and dipped below each of their horizons

.

 

"I have returned", he said.

 

Text and photograph(c) soulMerlin/henry metcalfe

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lindisfarne,samhain,albian,ancient britain,pagan,lugnhasadh,love,norway,sea,clouds,storms,sky,lovers,past life regression,afterlife,re-incarnation

Natural Spirit ~ Meeting Noone

 

Natural Spirit ~ Meeting Noone

It is Midsummer and the Noone-Time of the Solstice has grown to the full heat of the afternoon sun. Leo stands rampant, with the orb of the earth and the sickle of Lammas within his grasp. The Goddess sings the truth of Lughnasadh and the harvest to come, as she slowly weaves the silver threads of Samhain into his golden mane...  

...and it's my 'day off' and time doesn't matter...                        (for a while)

...I was on my third cup of coffee, when a little face appeared around the corner of my back-door.  Cats will always be feminine to me, no matter what their gender (except when they become the lion). My first instinct was to shoo the little beast away - but then I stopped - it might be nice to have a bit of company on a sunny afternoon.

So I poured a saucer of milk and pretended not to notice what 'his/her' response would be (rather too early for undercarriage inspection).

 

 

After a while I heard a tiny sound and I turned to see 'Noone' (as I shall call 'it') lapping away at the milk. The next stage was done with extreme care, as bit by bit, Noone stalked into the kitchen, looking at me with great intent, combined with a certain waryness.

Noone was asking me permission to enter - so I backed off and then turned and sent a quiet invitation. 

The intruder slowly entered...making a point of not looking at me (or the unwashed mugs)...

...It was a sheer delight to watch the investigation; Noone proceeded to  explore every inch of the downstairs rooms, prodding and sniffing and snorting...until eventually I became the target of a 'friendship overture'.

Noone commenced the ritual by slowly pacing around my feet in a circle and then began to wind around my legs, being very careful not to touch them. Cats have a wild and primitive vibration and I could feel the quiver of it as Noone continued the slow-motion Farandole. The ritual dance eventually came to an end.

Noone looked at me...It was my turn to take the lead once more and my carefully offered palm soon had Noone's furry head burrowing into it.

The Farandole re-commenced at a fast pace, with new touching and brushing movements added to the dance - until eventually  Noone  turned toward the door and padded back into the sunlight.

 

It was then I realised just how long it had been since I'd heard and felt a cat purr.

 

 

I won't miss Noone if there is no return visit...

 

 

 

 

...but just in case

 

 

 

(think of what I'd have missed if I'd just said "Shoo!")

.

noone and anyone earth by april

wish by spirit and if by yes.

E.E. Cummings

                                                                                                                                                                                                    

soulMerlin

 

 

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The Miracle of the Solstice ~ Part 2 'The Player'

The Miracle of the Solstice

Part 2 - The Player

So I returned and pushed my way through the crowds and under the massive stone arch, until I found myself at the edge of the inner circle of stones.

   No sooner had I managed to get back into the central arena, than an enormous roar burst from the crowd. It was wild - the whole of the central arena was now packed full and the sound of drums, flutes, and horns, together with  chanting and singing was deafening.

My first thought was to get out again, but that was impossible as everyone was now trying to reach the centre of the stone circle.

Then I realised that I had managed to time my re-entrance exactly at the moment of sunrise. It was 4.58am and it could have been the 12th chime of midnight on New Year's Eve, except for the fact that it was dawn and in the middle of summer - and except the fact that it was louder and wilder. I began to worry about falling and being trampled underfoot;  "Watch where you're going!" Someone had cannoned into me from behind and my loud yell came as much from fear as anger. A single voice answered my outburst "Lighten up Man!

The voice was right - I was behaving like a grumpy old man. What did I really want? I thought that I had wanted to find a natural spirituality about the Solstice and Stonehenge and yet there I was in full-critical mode: "There's no supervision" "Where are the police?" "What about the damage to the stones?" Yet there was a part of me that knew deep down that my 'full-critical mode' was simply a smoke-screen for my own tendency to draw back from being too involved with other people - that and a tendency to be rather timid in team games and athletic activities.

I remembered how I learnt to swim; I was around 9 yrs old and I was standing by the side of the school swimming pool, afraid of the cold blue water and yet desperate to be able to swim. It took the school bully and a hard push between my shoulder-blades to turn my dream into a reality - I swam.

I got the message, so I literally jumped in and joined the flow. Like the Fool in the Major Arcana, I had stepped into the unknown and now the pageant of the wheel of life turned - and I was a part of it.

  At the exact centre of the ancient stone circle, a group sat around a drum, taking it in turns to keep the heartbeat going. A beat that was echoed by other drummers around the perimeter of the site. There were flutes, tambourines and even a 'digeridoo' together with a rhythmic chanting that filled the arena. The whole effect was like an open-air club or disco or rave, with scenes being played out on natural sandstone podiums -

 

 

A hedge witch played a flute to her young friend, an orgiastic scene was played out, together with a man dressed (or undressed) as a Satre - it was only when I waved and shouted a greeting at the group and got the most vivid smile in response that I realised that they were indeed playing out a scene of life, just as if they were a carnival float, turning in the wheel.

 

Then I saw the Priestess and her followers -  It was total theatre and the thought that  "It must have looked something like this - 6000 years ago." kept turning in my head as I viewed the living tarot around me. 

I hope and pray that Stonehenge is never taken from Salisbury Plain, to be transplanted in a different landscape, or for her eroding sandstone to be parched in the sterile air of a museum. Today Stonehenge lived again once more.

 

 

The Priestess had an amazing presence. I have worked with many fine actresses and the same qualities of command poise and charisma radiated from her remarkable face. I wondered what she did in her 'everyday' life Who was she really? I corrected myself: Maybe this was who she really was.

The Summer Solstice is the joining of masculine and feminine - of the Yin and the Yang. The union of male and female was and is at the tap-root of paganism, both physically and spiritually. Midsummer is the time of the male solar hero, as indeed was King Arthur of legend. Arthur fought against the forces of evil and darkness and Camelot was his Valhalla or Heaven. But every King must have a Queen and the Reign of the Sun God occurs during the astrological period of Cancer. The sign of Cancer is ruled by the Moon and is the most feminine sign of the zodiac.

 

So they are wed - the Sun God and the Moon Goddess. Midsummer or Litha is a time for both men and women to recognise the 'other' within them - the true fusion of male and female. 

 

I felt I was in the middle of the wheel of life, with scenes of humanity, from the  base  to the sacred played out in front of me. Then I realised that I was smiling broadly and something seemed to change (and I think forever) inside of me and click into a different gear. I have always been shy and a little aloof, but I started to run up to people and yell "Everyone's Smiling" and the answer was always the same ~ "Yes!" ~ "Everyone is smiling!" I found myself shouting it again and again - always to the same reply.

Then I laughed...because everyone was laughing.

 

"Celebrate Solstice time with other Pagans -- take part in the Pagan Spirit Gathering or some other Pagan festival happening during June. Keep a Sacred Fire burning throughout the gathering. Stay up all night on Solstice Eve and welcome the rising Sun at dawn. Make a pledge to Mother Earth of something that you will do to improve the environment and then begin carrying it out. Have a magical gift exchange with friends. Burn your Yule wreath in a Summer Solstice bonfire. Exchange songs, chants, and stories with others in person or through the mail. Do ecstatic dancing to drums around a blazing bonfire." - Selena Fox, "Summer Solstice"~ from ~ Circle Sanctuary

 

"From prehistoric times, the summer solstice has been a joyous event marked by elaborate rituals, bonfires, dancing, and fervent prayer. The word "solstice" literally means "the sun is caused to stand still." On this day, which falls on the 21st of June, the daytime hours are at a maximum in the Northern hemisphere, and the noontime sun reaches it's highest point in the sky." ~ by Simi Brown

Today (and tomorrow) is the celebration of the Summer Solstice*, also known as Midsummer, or Litha. It is at this time that the Northern Hemisphere is tilted closest to the sun (the opposite being true for our friends in the Southern Hemisphere). It is a time of fertility and celebration: bonfires, maypoles, dancing, and outdoor festivals have been traditional during this time for most of human history. ~ The Wild Hunt

 

 

After Christianity spread in Europe and other parts of the world, many pagan customs were incorporated into the Christian religion. In many parts of Scandinavia, the Midsummer celebration continued but was observed around the time of St John’s Day, on June 24, to honor St John the Baptist instead of the pagan gods.

"In North America, many Native American tribes held ritual dances to honor the sun. The Sioux were known to hold one of the most spectacular rituals. Usually performed during the June solstice, preparations for the dance included cutting and raising a tree that would be considered a visible connection between the heavens and earth, and setting up teepees in a circle to represent the cosmos. Participants abstained from food and drink during the dance itself. Their bodies were decorated in the symbolic colors of red (sunset), blue (sky), yellow (lightning), white (light), and black (night)." ~ more from ~ Time and Date

 

"I will worship to my own natural creed. I will worship by my own natural instinct"

"I will never forget the miracle of the solstice"

 

 

 

 

~

all photography (c) soulMerlin

Technorati Tags: solstice,pagan,spirituality,midsummer,litha,goddess,stonehenge,worship

The Stonehenge Trilogy

The Miracle of the Solstice ~ Part One "The Spectator"

The Miracle of the Solstice ~ Part Two "The Player"

The Miracle of the Solstice ~ Part Three "The Biggest Joy"

Flowers Love and Re-incarnation

We are in early summer or Beltane, the mid-morning of the Pagan wheel of the year and the re-incarnation of plant, animal and human life is all around us. Beltane or early summer commences on the last day of April and runs through to Midsummer (noon) on June 21/22nd. If you want to learn more about Paganism, which is an umbrella term for the ancient religions of the world, including those of the North American Indian, you could do much worse than order a copy of "Paganism" an excellent handbook by Vivianne Crowley - However, this short summary of Paganism by  "Pagan Awareness" should give you a general background and if your appetite is whetted after reading it, then go to: http://www.bookfinder.com/dir/i/Paganism/0007103344/ and get a copy. I note that amazon is doing used versions for as little as £1-80p (around a dollar) It is a beautifully written little book and really well illustrated.

Small-Game Hunting in the Grove

Surprise surprise, Sunday morning was filled with soft sunlight and I decided to grab my camera and go 'small game hunting' amongst the garden flowers. My first capture was a bee who promptly stuffed his head right inside the cup-shaped head of a Mimosa flower.

The Mimosa Flower

"The Mimosa is a name for about 400 species of plant that includes the Venus Fly Trap and can be found in many parts of Bengal, where it is known as lajjabati (literally a shy female) In Russia, Italy and other countries it is customary to present women with yellow mimosas (among other flowers) on International Women's Day (March 8)." Wikipedia.

There do seem to be less bees around than last year, but this one (happily for me) seemed to have no table manners and stayed in position gulping away for at least a minute, which have me ample time to capture him. I was so pleased with the shot that I've made it my Summer Grove header - It's my first attempt at a header and the clock gets in the way a bit, but click on the small version to the right and go to the Grove home page to see the full effect.

The way I approach my small-game stalking is to see which flower, bush or shrub seems to be the most popular and position myself comfortably near, with my camera zoomed and focussed on a bloom or cluster which looks good on my LCD screen and then wait patiently until my prey alights on it. I chose a rather attractive cluster of a wild flower called 'Honesty' - very popular in Victorian times and waited for a harvesting bee. (and waited)

I was just about to give up and go indoors for a cup of tea, when a small fly decided it would be nice to have it's photograph taken and landed 'just right' - I didn't need to move at all, I just pressed the shutter and there it was, my Summer Almanack header -            (click on the small example above to go to the Almanack)      

I then moved on to my current garden favourite the 'Periwinkle'.   The centre of the flower has a perfect pentagonal shape, but also the five petaled construction of the bloom, slightly offset to the centre, also resembles a pentagon, especially if you imagine a line drawn around the entire flower, petal to petal. This time, no bees turned up and so I've re-published a picture I took last year, when the garden seemed to be always full of bees. Go to Wikipedia to read more about Periwinkles.

Bluebells

Bluebells are my favourite wild flower, perhaps because I have happy childhood memories of my mother and father and myself, picking armfuls of the beautiful long-stalked blooms and taking them home to Riverside House where we lived near the boathouse. Although I find cut flowers a bit sad in that they are razored from the  life force that has formed and sustained them, my parents couldn't afford to buy flowers and so the sight of the whole house filled with clusters of bluebells was a treat for all of us. One cluster of bluebells particularly attracted me and Liz reminded me that my son had picked them over thirty years ago, when he was a little boy and she had planted them in the garden. There they were, a natural example of re-incarnation - just right for the "Flowers and Scorpions" header above. Go to Wikipedia to read more about this beautiful flower.

My son visits...

One of the downsides of a touring theatrical life, is that it can wreak devastation on any chance of a family life.  When my son was around 11yrs old, he turned to me during one of my one-day weekend visits and asked me to stay with him all the time. I tried to explain to him that it was part of my working life and that if I gave up my work to be with him, I would not be able to earn enough to keep us going and that I would have to give up theatre work and return to teaching.My decision to continue with choreography and performance was something that has shaped us both over the last 29yrs - no matter how I phrased my answer to my only son, it was clear that 'the theatre' had won.

Although I think I can see the 'big picture' it is also clear to me that the old adage "what you sow, so shall you reap" is simple and accurate. My son has become a busy architect and family man and quite often I ache to see him, but his Sundays are full of taking care of his family and I am most times, just too far away to get to him or my two grandchildren. I was therefore rather excited when Liz my ex-wife said that he had rung and was popping over to see us for a couple of hours, before we set off for Durham....

...I was just transferring the shots onto my computer and I had managed to upload the first header "The Grove" when he turned up. He was impressed with my shots and took over my laptop to download a whole series of pic's of his family. I am still amazed that Liz and I are grandparents twice over and we had a great time looking at them. I felt rather like the 30 yr old bluebells; I could see myself in my son's gestures and mannerisms and I could also see the eternal part of myself within my two grandsons.

Liz and I were due to leave for Durham and my son also had to meet up with his family, so after a really enjoyable couple of hours, he set off in the car....only to return five minutes later to take a photograph of us both, which he later sent to me with the caption "Happy People".

All I can say is that we were looking at the reason for our happiness.

(please note that most photographs and red lettering are active links - click and go. :) 

Technorati Tags: beltane,mimosa,vivianne crowley,bluebells,re-incarnation,periwinkles,wild flowers

Back-stage thoughts during a three-show Saturday

Back-stage thoughts during a three-show Saturday

...So it's the Vernal Equinox - Adam and Eve are in the Garden of Eden  and the whole of the countryside vibrates with renewing life. The young rams of Aries (happy birthday Deb & Chris Barton) say farewell to Pisces (happy birthday Liz)   and the Fool on the Hill steps into the wheel of life of the Major Arcana.

Of all the decks available at the mystic shop in Southsea a couple of years ago, the Druid Craft  deck was the one I resonated (very '60's!) with. It's important to find a Tarot deck that feels 'right' - certainly the Druid Craft deck appeals to the Druid in me - and it's really  well illustrated with an excellent book to go with it.

I'm typing this during our three-show-Joseph Saturday at Worthing at the Connaught theatre at the end of the Pier (the shore end) The other night, the "White Horses" battered the beach - very spectacular. I know that all life began in the sea, but I'm much more at home in the heart of Shakespeare's country (Warwickshire)...hopefully I'll get to see Martin's Oak tomorrow (Sun)

Interestingly, the past three weeks, have resembled an episode of the Keystone Cops - Nearly choking to death in a Chinese restaurant (my sloppy eating - not the food) One speeding ticket, a bust central heating boiler, cancelled credit and debit cards, a cancelled website hosting arrangement and a bizarre tumble, when I literally walked into a wall. The wall was just above knee-height and the summersault I then performed over it, complete with my computer-bag was as spectacular as it was painful. (at the time of writing, I hadn't had the encounter with the scaffolding pole...that was to come, a couple of hours later!)

5pm Show...

Last Sunday was a bit of a mess as far as my central heating boiler was concerned. In total I was 'let down' by at least half a dozen 'operatives' and the thought of another cold day at home was almost too much to bear. Nevertheless I decided to go to church (at least a prayer for an plumber might produce results.)

I have an affinity with "The Fool" of the Major Arcana. (replace the cliff edge with a wall and his bag with my computer bag and you'll see what i mean. The Fool is "Everyman" (or woman) and is for me, not stupid but naive and with a wise instinct. The fool in Shaksper's plays has much in common with the Tarot fool..... both wise and vulnerable at the same time.

When that I was and a little tiny boy With hey, ho, the wind and the rain, A foolish thing was but a toy, For the rain it raineth every day. ...

The Beatles' "Fool on the Hill" has always reminded me of the Tarot Fool (see YouTube vid' on sidebar...)

Yes..the Vernal Equinox had crept up on me by surprise, I guess due to my pre-occupation with the disasters in my life. But I must say, things did feel different on the drive down to Worthing from Coventry last Monday. The whole afternoon lifted me up a long way. The further I drove south, the more I could see the green spirits in the trees and hedgerows. Life throbs and hums and the power is very evident. I'm sure that Dylan Thomas was a secret Druid, even though he was born in the bible-black Welsh valleys (with their ancient celtic ways):

The force that through the Green Fuse...

It's now around 7.40pm and the last show of the day begins at 8pm. Chris Barton our Benjamin (from the TV show of last year..."Any Dream Will Do") had his 21st Birthday on the 21st of this month; one day after the Vernal Equinox. So the youngest sign of the Zodiac meets the begining of new life. (happy birthday Chris)

Card XX of the Major Arcana shows the sun god reborn and the symbol of  the hare (which we have now changed to the Easter Bunny).

It's a small shift from the Sun God to the Son of God and the Christian Easter celebration of the death and resurrection of Jesus, fit well and go along beside the more ancient celebration of the Vernal Equinox...Although the Christian church layered Easter over the original Pagan dates (which are astrologically correct) ... I guess they layered it suitably...as long as the Christian church does not forget and acknowledges the overlay.

 

 

Meal Break...between the 5pm and the 8pm shows, Tim our Company Manager arranges a meal to keep us going. This week's treat came in the form of a curry...*burp*

8pm Show...

The curry is weighing heavily as we embark on Act 1. I guess that's why I'm  a skinny one (and a lot of dancers) because I really perform better on an empty stomach. The trouble is that most theatricals eat after the evening show, which is not the best habit for good digestion. My diverticulitis diagnosis of the last few weeks is probably the result of a very disorganised food intake over the last forty years. Actually I had my first professional job when I was sixteen....so that means forty-eight years since I started in this strange profession, although I became a college lecturer for seven of them. (It still means 41 years of working and touring in the theatre)

When I was in Infant school, we used to have visits to the local school pond to collect frogspawn and I remember lying in my stomach and listening to the gurgles and sounds of life - my favourite insects were the Water Boatmen - I always imagined that they were out, like Ratty and Mole, for a pleasurable jaunt on a fine day. Yes Spring is here, even though storms are around....one of my favourite spring poems by EE Cummings also has a strong, wet and fertile Pagan theme....in Just-spring...

I stopped writing this post, after I was hit between the eyes by a scaffolding pole (I walked into it) There followed a fascinating sequence of events which I have written about in the Almanack http://www.soulmerlin.com/almanack/?p=148

Blogs I Like (1)

Pentad (Tamara) visited the Almanack and left an encouraging comment...two actually because she did the best thing she could have done for my unstable blogging ego...she looked up a back-post and commented on it!

Wow! someone cares about what I write (I'm overdoing it a bit - ham actor) but it really was good to see a comment on a post I did around last July and which has lain buried under all my posts up 'till now.

Sometimes I feel that the blogosphere is full of people, all of them writing to no-one, in order to attract everyone...Tamara(Pentad) is a class act and I'm going to visit her site(s) often...

http://pentads.blogspot.com/  I found this one really interesting

http://www.pentad.no/index.htm Pentad~Simplifying Life and Love

http://www.pentad.no/blog.htm it's about baby alligators and...well, just go and find out.

I'll close this entry with a photo I took this time last year, of my favourite Oak tree. I thought it (the tree -not the photo) deserved to be shown again.

 

soulMerlin

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Technorati Tags: tarot,vernal equinox,beatles,pentad,oak tree,aries,pisces

All illustrations ©soulMerlin/henry metcalfe

Druid Craft Tarot ©Druid Craft

Pentad Banner (and everything else relating to Pentad)©Tamera Daun/Pentad

Copyright Policy ~ All illustrations by soulMerlin/henry metcalfe are copyright ~ however you are welcome to reproduce them for none-profit making use, providing you place a photo-credit and a link back to this site. For all other use, please email me with details before a decision may be granted. If you want a larger image, please contact me and if possible I will email one back to you, if available.For llustrations and material by other authors (in this case ©Tamera Daun/Pentad), copyright must be respected and any application, none profit or otherwise, must be made directly to the author.

The source of the ©Pentad Banner and the ©Druid Craft material can be reached by clicking on the illustrations.

Meeting Kylie

If ever a woman was adopted by the British public it's 'our' Kylie.  I mean, she has fantastic determination and spirit, and considering what she's been through with her cancer scare and the chemotherapy treatment, her present work-rate is amazing.

I remember 'sort of' meeting her in the early 90's. I was in Soho in central London and I decided to have a coffee in a small Italian cafe along Wardour Street.  The cafe was the sort that also does 'take-away' sandwiches and after a while I looked up from my newspaper and saw a fantastic pair of legs standing by the counter. It was Kylie, who had opted to "get the Sarnies" and had hopped out of a car which was parked outside.

I remember thinking how beautiful and sexy she was.  Kylie was wearing a pinstripe 'hotpant' suit - very tailored, very WOW!

I could see the light of recognition beginning to shine in our Italian patron's eyes.  Whether it was recognition or lust I'm not sure, but he was joined in double-quick time by a very dominant patroness.  In any event, they all seemed to get along famously until two little figures appeared in the doorway leading into our Italian host's living quarters.

Kylie was great - "Come here" she said and the little boy and girl shyly came forward.  At this point 'our Kylie' came and sat by me to sign her autograph for them.  "Does this happen all the time?" I said. "Yes, I love it." our heroine replied.

Kylie talked with the children for five minutes or so and during that time, I considered telling her that I worked in the theatre - but I decided against it.

It would have gotten all "professional" and ghastly.

My friend 'Moth' used to work on Top of the Pops and remembers her working harder than any of the other groups or singers in the pre-show rehearsals.

Thanks Kylie for the Fun the Glamour and the Spirit. (Even if the duet with 'Macca' is sung in the key of Yale)

ps: A tip....If you double click on the YouTube 'screen', it will take you through to YouTube, where you can click again and see the vid' (and the others below) in full-screen.

Now why not go to the Almanack - the latest entry "Directing Jesus and Mary" is up now.  It's about when I helped direct "Jesus Christ Superstar"

soulMerlin's Almanack

Technorati Tags: kylie,spirit,kylie minogue

soulMerlin's Grove Round-Up

SitePal are the company who produce the animated figures you will find on my various sites (except From Dusk 'till Dawn)

They really are a great organisation, with an excellent follow-up, so if you like the idea of animated characters on your site/blog, click here: http://www.oddcast.com/affiliates/entry/?affId=268624&promotionId=13344 - and "clone yer own"

~

There's a new entry in "From Dusk 'till Dawn" titled "A Lost-Love Spell at Bedtime". http://www.soulmerlin.wordpress.com

Don't just mope about - do something about it!

~

Don't forget to go to the Almanack http://www.soulmerlin.com/almanack I have an article there about a sensation that many people feel to a greater or lesser extent, that their deceased loved-one has not really gone away, but is around somehow... Look for "Where Dead and Living Meet."

~

Talking about the Almanack - that is the main area in the soulMerlin's Grove complex which I feel has 'come on' a long way. Please take time to look at the various categories in the sidebar (the font is rather small) It really is building up nicely.

~

I am really fascinated by the SitePal AI (artificial intelligence) function. Try the example to the right. The mass of general knowledge that the character 'knows' is provided by a central database, but there is an unlimited cache of information that I (and so can you if you clone her) can add and continue to add to, which can be updated constantly and can provide a novelty selling-point base, which will also fascinate customers and keep them 'on site' longer.

~

I am least happy with the main Grove home page http://www.soulmerlin.com My writing style leaves a lot to be desired, but I assure you that every word is true and has not been dramatised in any way. I'll be focusing on the home page in the New Year...

The Photo Gallery needs a lot of work and it almost next on the list, so stand by for lots of new photos and links on the photo-borders to various parts of the site.

~

Take a look at the Blogrush widget (top on the Almanack sidebar http://www.soulmerlin.com/almanack) They have a strict acceptance of blogs, so to be accepted is a good thing. Click on the little tab at the bottom of the widget if you want one.

Keep in touch - Santa Claus and Oak Tree and the Devil will be published in the Almanack before Christmas Day (or should I say Yule?)

If you like the idea of a talking Santa host on your site over Christmas, click on the link below. Santa's free for fifteen days!

http://www.oddcast.com/affiliates/entry/?affId=268624&promotionId=13344

soulMerlin

Technorati Tags: love spell,sitepal,artificial intelligence (AI),blogrush

Baby Animals - Yoko and Murphy...

a big twee flower this week to Yoko from Kanagawa and her dog "Murphy" who has just give birth to three puppies - One of the great things about the Internet is that people who would never normally meet, can contact.  I've known Yoko for about four years now and we have kept up contact via message boards and blogs.

Yoko has a blog - it's all in Japanese, so you'll have to go there armed with a translation tool - something from Applied Language or Babel Fish - but if your an animal lover (especially of miniature poodles) it's worth the visit.

http://happy.ap.teacup.com/yoko/

Yoko writes:

 

2007.11.10

AM 9:00 ~AM 10:00

Three puppies were born.

Three puppies went along the birth canal safely and were created through a big first cry.

womb 3  born 3

The perfect pregnancy.

Perfect delivery.

Perfect child care.

A mother dog and the puppy are completely healthy.

The puppy drinks mother's milk and is brought up.

The process to the delivery of the poodle was  difficult.

                                                                                         I'm tired

Yoko

 

(Animal lovers are the same the world over)

                                                                                                                                             

 

I've always liked small animals and have had a succession of Hamsters since the '60's, and some of the illustrations I've found, just make me go "Aaaaaaah" (but then I'm really Twee!)

 

Baby animals look very similar to human ones.

 

They all just have a brand-new look about them 

 

 

All the illustrations, apart from Yoko, Murphy and the Puppies, are from http://www.babyanimalz.com So if you really want to dote on pictures of little

creatures, go there - It's a great site!

 

   All together then....."Aaaaaaaaaah!"

                                                                                              

Technorati Tags: yoko,baby animals,miniature poodle,puppies

Tues 20 Nov 07 ~ Don't treat climate change like the speed limit

Climate change is now back in the news - there are impassioned voices on both sides of the argument - but now comes the thought (accusation?) that "The Government" is taking charge of the weather (I'm sure they would have beaten King Canute at his own game).

Whatever...just take a look at the picture above. I took it near my 'digs' last week in Cardiff. If you want to find it, ask directions to Bute Park and then have a good walk. Lots of joggers about.

I said "whatever" because the sad thing is that it will take legislation to stop people breaking the "Ecology Limit". (they still will - oh yes - watering the garden at midnight for one thing. In short doing the best they can to get away with AS MUCH as they can, under the cover of a caring exterior.

I walked into the New Theatre every day through the park for about a mile and a half and each day the weather was different. Wednesday was misty and soggy - my favourite Autumn weather actually. It's kinda mysterious and sad. But poetic (aah)

Each day though I just felt that this was a place where the earth could breath. Rather like taking your socks off, halfway through the night when your feet are over-hot because you went to bed in them.

Am I the only one who does that?

Being in the Theatre for most of my life, has involved me working and living in large towns and seriously it was a case of over-hot feet one morning around 4am, that made me think about all that earth lying under all that concrete. All over the world. Well...over the ruling countries at any event.

I went back to look at my first home with my parents earlier this year and found that I would be sleeping on the second floor of an enormous BHS car park that covered the area, not only of the house, but also the wooded grounds that lay around it and a wonderful little alley I used to play along called Paradise Lane. I wrote a little thing about a dream I had about the lane...

We as a species are in my mind rather like a swarm of mosquitoes that land and suck the juice from the fruit. James Lovelock is not over concerned in the long term - Gaia will recover - but in the short term - Global Warming or not, - we will strip all the minerals from this planet; we will pollute it with waste and suffocate it under an ever widening clingfilm of concrete.

What is needed is the recognition that God is not "up there" or "down there" but that he is all around and thru - in fact just The All. My mother used to say that she saw more God in the trees and fields around the city of Durham than in a church. There is something of the truth in there. A really great driver would always drive at the ideal safe speed for the road and traffic conditions, even if there were no speed limit signs around.

The point I'm trying to make is that people have got to collectively live for the Earth, love it and see it's Spirituality (I'm starting to sound a bit preacher'ish now, but I mean it). In the same way, all the other idiots on the road (apart from me!) have got to start to learn to give and take a bit more and understand the reasons for the speed limits. As it stands, breaking the speed limit is a national sport in the UK.

To spell it out simply: If people reallty loved and cared for the environment, they wouldn't need legislation to make them go easy on the planet and also give a bit back....oh well, on with the legislation. Maybe the appreciation of Nature increases with ageing. And some of us grow older quicker than others.

And on that note...

soulMerlin

Technorati Tags: climate change,environment,god,the all,love,care,speed limit,driving






At the same time, perhaps we would be more inclined to be fair, if we thought that our leaders were also being fair with us...

On Tuesday I finally got around to going into the local post-office (why are they always crowded?) to pay for my road tax disc. I dropped the car in the car park nearby and found that I didn't have the exact change for one hour's worth - one hour cost 30p - naturally I didn't have a twenty pence piece and a 10p, or even three 10p pieces - but I did have a 50p piece....

....but machine didn't give change.

I hope that all the local councils who pull this stunt or turn a blind eye to it, will have a change of heart and donate all the extra profits to charity; thirty pence seems almost 50p, but is actually only a wee 5p above 50% profit each time a punter hasn't the correct change.

all photos soulMerlin

except scorpion courtesy of Wikimedia.org

Angel Parking......Try it!

Technorati Tags: molly malone , guardian angels , spirit quides

The weather is getting very rainy and blustery, so as I arrived at the multi- storey car park, I asked my guardian spirit to help me find a space. Now I have found that this works more often than not.....but this time two interesting things happened.

I did ask rather late - I was actually driving up the raised drive-in ask I made my request, but sure enough, as I hit the first parking level, I heard the sound of a car starting up - so I stopped a little past to let the car out of the parking space.

A FLOWER

As the exiting car passed by me, it stopped and a smiling woman called across from the driving seat "Do you want my ticket? - It's valid for the rest of the day!"

I was really pleased and told her so, mentally thanking my guardian angel at the same time.....EXCEPT...

A SCORPION

...Creeping into "my" parking space - and being very careful to avert his eyes - came a driver-thief. My parking space had gone!

For once, because I'm usually hot-tempered and tend to have a go at unfairness, I decided to let the smile stay on my face as I drove to the next level - and there was another space in a normally log-jammed car-park.

Try it sometime - but give your angel more notice than I did today. As you set off to your destination, visualise your parking space being available - really "see" it. More often than not, you'll end up smiling like me.

BUT DON'T FORGET!

Don't forget that your request has been answered and therefore thank your angel. Also - like the woman driver who gave me her ticket - do someone else a favour - Let the good ripples continue widening.

BY THE WAY... I looked up the Aberdeen Ghost of the last post and found the link below. Perhaps "Jake" (better than calling him an "it" was resting his hand on my head, as a way of telling me who he was...

http://news.bbc.co.uk/nolpda/ifs_news/hi/newsid_5097000/5097628.stm?(none

FINALLY - I cannot think of any excuse to put up another picture of Molly Malone (see earlier post), other than the fact that the last one was rather small. I hope this provides some compensation.

The Aberdeen Ghost...

Half way through last week, Chris Barton (Any Dream will Do TV series) - our "Benjamin" muttered something about a ghost at His Majesty's Theatre. A ghost that moves things around and hides them, if it doesn't like a particular show. (it bothers me that I call a ghost an "it")

Well it was a very busy week with lots of rehearsals, so although I was interested, I just didn't get around to following it up.

On Saturday the whole matter had gone to the back of my mind - until the matinee - when half-way through Caanan Days - and at almost exactly the same point in the song that 'P' had felt a hand holding his - I felt a hand resting gently on the right side of my head. The hand stayed for around fifteen seconds and then faded away.

Read about~ http://soulmerlin.com/almanack/?p=116' ~ 'P's experience at the Festival Theatre in Edinburgh.

21/10/07 ~ Though I Sang in my Chains like the Sea....

It was great to see the Oak looking so Green and Golden , especially as it is late October. I had expected to see 'her' in full autumn-gold splendour and I was surprised to see just how much green life she had retained. Dylan Thomas expressed it perfectly in his poem "Fern Hill"

"Before the children Green and Golden...."

For someone who was born and grew up in the bible-black valleys of Wales, Dylan's poetry is that of a person who had an instinctive feel for the natural spirituality of the old Celtic pre-Christian ways.

"The force that through the Green Fuse drives the flower..."

Last week in Dublin was interesting, with tremendous audiences and standing ovations after every show. We have Craig Chalmers as Joseph, fresh from the summer TV, find a star for Joseph contest "Any Dream Will Do". Craig, together with Keith Jack and Chris Barton, aided and abetted by Wayne Smith from the 'rival' series "Grease is the Word" front one of the strongest Joseph casts our "Juggernaut of Joy" has had for quite a few years. They're great guys all of them and - only a little younger than me - or so I thought until I saw this photo of Craig and myself... ... Craig's youthful looks and Dan Dare jawline remind me of a Scandinavian Yule-Tide card I bought a lot of years ago, which showed the Spirit of the unborn Spring, looking in wonder and incomprehension at the Crone of Autumn but at the same time, caught-up and held within her ancient wisdom.

"children remembered but only a few - and down they forgot as up they grew." ~ EE Cummings.

I'm off to Scotland tomorrow and I don't think I'll get back to Martin's Oak until mid-November. I hope that I don't miss the day when she will glow in one last burst of beauty, before her life-force retreats deep inside her, to wait for the re-birth of Spring.

Me Adam Craig and Scott...

The contrast of my guest-house 'digs' in Dublin this week, compared to last week's warmth and friendship with Sean, Majella and their son Andrew, could have not have been greater. Setting off in the early hours of this morning, I took one last (but not regretful) look at the view outside my "hotel" window and set off for the airport....

~
"Cockles and mussels, alive, alive oh"

There are people who swear that Molly Malone of song was a real 18th century character who died of a fever. They will even offer to show you her grave.
Unfortunately, these are the sort of people who would try to sell you the Brooklyn Bridge.....sorry Liz! (whistle down the wind)
In fact, Molly Malone was a music hall creation of the 1880s, making her first appearance in a song by James Yorkston -- who was a Scotsman from Edinburgh!
Nevertheless, the song has become something of a Dublin anthem and the statue of Molly, on the corner of Grafton and Suffolk Streets, has become a popular landmark.

The statue, by sculptor Jean Rynhart, was erected in 1987. Locals sometimes call the fictitious Molly, "The Tart With the Cart" or "The Dish With the Fish..."

In Dublin's fair City
Where girls are so pretty
I first set my eyes on sweet Molly Malone,
As she wheeled her wheelbarrow
Through streets broad and narrow,
Crying, "Cockles and mussels, alive, alive oh"!

Chorus:
Alive, alive oh! alive, alive oh!
Crying, "Cockles and mussels, alive, alive oh"!

She was a fishmonger,
And sure twas no wonder,
For so were her mother and father before,
And they each wheeled their barrow,
Through streets broad and narrow,
Crying, "Cockles and mussels alive, alive oh"!

She died of a fever,
And no one could save her,
And that was the end of sweet Molly Malone.
Now her ghost wheels her barrow,
Through streets broad and narrow, Crying, "Cockles and mussels, alive, alive oh"!
Chorus: Alive, Alive oh! Alive, Alive Oh, Crying Cockles and Mussels, Alive, Alive Oh"!

So....An Old Man Carrying Flowers On His Head has become my weekly journal. The Almanack has become what it should be, which is a weekly look into a different aspect of Spirituality and Dusk 'till Dawn is all about my fascination with the night...

'till the next time...

soulMerlin.

~

Technorati Tags: Dylan Thomas , Martin's Oak , EE Cummings , Molly Malone , Dublin , Autumn , Ageing , Re-incarnation

FERN HILL
Now as I was young and easy under the apple boughs
About the lilting house and happy as the grass was green,
The night above the dingle starry,
Time let me hail and climb
Golden in the heydays of his eyes,
And honoured among wagons I was prince of the apple towns
And once below a time I lordly had the trees and leaves
Trail with daisies and barley
Down the rivers of the windfall light.

And as I was green and carefree, famous among the barns
About the happy yard and singing as the farm was home,
In the sun that is young once only,
Time let me play and be
Golden in the mercy of his means,
And green and golden I was huntsman and herdsman, the calves
Sang to my horn, the foxes on the hills barked clear and cold,
And the sabbath rang slowly
In the pebbles of the holy streams.

All the sun long it was running, it was lovely, the hay
Fields high as the house, the tunes from the chimneys, it was air
And playing, lovely and watery
And fire green as grass.
And nightly under the simple stars
As I rode to sleep the owls were bearing the farm away,
All the moon long I heard, blessed among stables, the nightjars
Flying with the ricks, and the horses
Flashing into the dark.

And then to awake, and the farm, like a wanderer white
With the dew, come back, the cock on his shoulder: it was all
Shining, it was Adam and maiden,
The sky gathered again
And the sun grew round that very day.
So it must have been after the birth of the simple light
In the first, spinning place, the spellbound horses walking warm
Out of the whinnying green stable
On to the fields of praise.

And honoured among foxes and pheasants by the gay house
Under the new made clouds and happy as the heart was long,
In the sun born over and over,
I ran my heedless ways,
My wishes raced through the house high hay
And nothing I cared, at my sky blue trades, that time allows
In all his tuneful turning so few and such morning songs
Before the children green and golden
Follow him out of grace.

Nothing I cared, in the lamb white days, that time would take me
Up to the swallow thronged loft by the shadow of my hand,
In the moon that is always rising,
Nor that riding to sleep
I should hear him fly with the high fields
And wake to the farm forever fled from the childless land.
Oh as I was young and easy in the mercy of his means,
Time held me green and dying
Though I sang in my chains like the sea.

'Slan Lait Anois' Sean

It wasn't until Sean (sorry about the accent symbol above the 'e' Sean, I'll try to put it in later) drove me to the airport that I understood why I had felt so at home in Derry. It has been a beautiful week in Northern Ireland; the Millenium Forum, the shows with the audience screaming and standing, and the generous hospitality of Sean, his wife Majella and their son Andrew, who seems to sleep even less than I do.

I happened to mention to Sean that I hoped that I would be home next weekend in time to see Martin's Oak in her brown Autumn garb, before her leaves joined the earth and she stood naked and beautiful, to welcome the thin veil of Samhain.

Sean half-turned as he was driving "Derry is the 'Doire' ~ the Oak Grove."

Sean then went on to tell me about St Columba and the church on the hill and the Feast of St Colmbus; of the 9th of June and St Columbus' Well and Phil Coulter and Rosemary Brown (Dana)... and how no-one ever really says 'goodbye' in Ireland.

I'm not a Celt - I don't really know who or what I am - but Merlin, both Druid and Christian, is in my heart.
'Slan Lait Anois' Sean.

how I regret lying slug-like in bed on Friday, when I could have explored the church...

Suppose life is an old man carrying flowers on his head

I hope you will all enjoy this new addition to soulMerlin's Grove. As you can see, all of the Grove features, including the animated characters are here.





I have opened this blog in addition to the regular weekly Almanack, as I wish to have a more spontaneous platform for my spiritual experiences. I will always try to ensure that the original Almanack has well-researched, theme-based postings - here in "Flowers" however I hope to be more spontaneous, less formal and more 'off the wall' with my writing. I hope that ideas expressed here may grow and eventually find their way into the Almanack pages.





soulMerlin