It was our very last minutes at a sacred place in the Emerald Isle. For the sum total of my adventure there here is the link. Kal spends the summer solstice in Ireland. Drombeg is the name of the place we were at and although Chris (aka Gwas) was raring to get going to the airport I was held in place by more ritual work to be done.
From the other posts you will learn that this trip had been very much about the Water element. In particular learning how to use it to see into the Depth of the things. In my last post, I mentioned that I had just received a gift from the Fay and was still in commune with them.
(from previous post…)
A curious thought occurred to me, could I see into the depth of them? I cast about for some water and found a little sneak view of the ocean. Not forgetting to anchor myself, I dug deep into the Earth and anchored myself, then letting my focus wander out over to the ocean, I took hold of a vast sway of the ocean. Feeling ready, I looked at the Fay and tried to see them. It failed miserably. Not only did it fail, but it made me feel dizzy for the moment (so much for an Earth anchor!) A voice quite close to my ear surprised me out of my dizziness.
- “You can’t see into us. We are ineffable to humans”
Even if I were to join with my Energy Double? I asked. There was no answer, hmmmm Interesting. I wanted to add that additional point because I had not got an answer to that question. In fact I got a distinct hesitancy to answer.
Unlike the other Fay I have encountered, these seemed much more chatty. They said that we could have a mutually beneficial relationship if I created a permanent connection to this place. What kind of benefit and relationship I asked…Remember this wisdom from ages…When you shake hands with the Fay, count your fingers and toes.
The Fay (one or many I couldn’t tell) said that they couldn’t leave this place but that through me they could experience other places and in return I could call on their vast knowledge of magic. Wow! Sounded very equitable. But that old haunting question came to mind. “Why me?” Almost at once the thought returned, because you are Faery Tainted. What does that mean????
I let go of the question (again) and breathed deeply…How do I create this connection…Look, the Fay said, and pointed out the three faery rings, then they flew over to the three incense sticks I had lit, As I was present with them, I heard three bees fly past me and in the distance there were three caws of a crow.
Then I was (or my vision) was taken up in the air and I was shown the four elements. Earth, Water, Fire (the sun), and Air (the fact I was in the air).
These are the ingredients for your connection. Three bees, three crows and the four elements. If you find these, you will be able to connect with us. So, not very often then, was my thought.
The Fay ignored me, “unless we connect with you” they added. I was about to ask if they needed bees and crows. But I have developed a certain cautious respect for the Faery, unlike Caileach who tolerates my rather rude behaviour.
Can you tell me what kind of wisdom I can access, I asked. I was expecting a no, so when They said Yes, I was surprised. Maybe it was given as a bridge of trust?
You are seeking components of a wand. It was a statement not a question. When you are in Egypt, you may ask us where to find the Amber
And with that cryptic statement, the commune ended. I sat there for a while wondering about this new revelation, Egypt? Amber? After my initial shock waned I wondered if there were any Bees and Crows in Egypt?
Just when you think a trip could not get any better. It does!
Kal Malik – planning a trip to Egypt
Due to the nature of the way I work these days I am now coming across people who share my outlook on life. One such person is Debra Delgyn, an holistic therapist and shaman from Manchester. We had met weeks ago at a networking event and almost without having much of a conversation we just knew we would have a lot in common. Bless her, Debra made the effort to get us together for an afternoon, and so I decided to show her some one of the formative places that I had used when beginning my druidic training – Frodsham Hill.
I have no idea why I chose this particular part of the hill – it was a cliff covered in green moss and lichen which shone with an eerie fluorescence against its red sandstone background. I think the site must have drawn my attention too many times as I have passed it. I have worked at many places all around this cliff face, but never spent any time actually at that spot. Yet, here I was with an experienced shaman, and striding with confidence up the hill to reveal its presence. Luckily for me, presence is exactly what we found.
I used my dowsing rods to determine the best spots for us both to sit at. For Debra it was a moss-covered rock, and for me it was beside a small oak tree who corkscrew shape showed me that it was a place of strong subtle energy forces. I wasn’t the only one to notice that, and that pleased me as it confirmed that I was working with someone on my wavelength.
The Net of Light
I watched fascinated as Debra began to unpack some of the paraphernalia from her “crane bag”. I didn’t recognise much of what she laid out – I’m such a novice in these respects.
After we had settled in we talked about the spot. I asked her if she felt the force of the subtle energy flow coming off the cliff. For me it was so palpable that it threatened to push me off the path and roll me down the hillside! She agreed that it could be felt. A good start.
We chatted briefly and she asked me about the view beyond the near trees. I told her that it was the Weaver Estuary, and that it was surrounded by chemical factories. Then I mentioned The Marshes – an area of polluted land which had taken the brunt of the chemical waste from the estuary over the years.
We then talked about the presence of rock (or ‘gnomic’) beings in the rock face behind us, and how we could perhaps interact with these forces, and ask them if they could help us to send out healing into the polluted lands below us. Debra talked of a “Net of Light” which could be used to perform healing of the land. I understood the concept, because of course I have been healing the land for years. Vocabulary aside, we knew what we meant to do, however we would choose to do it.
There is a tree that I have been hoping to visit since I first heard of its antiquity – The Fortingall Yew. It’s not every day that I get to visit Scotland, and so while I was “passing through” I made a slight detour in order to seek this tree out. Actually I made one hell of a detour to get to see it, but it was worth it.
Fortingall is a small village lying within a caber’s toss of Loch Tay. The flat valley floor hides a number of beautiful secrets bypassed by the major road nearby, and taking the scenic route was a real feast for the eyes in terms of scenery. Or it would have been if I hadn’t been trying to manoeuvre the motorhome though lanes that were only just wide enough for it. I won’t be doing that again, I can assure you. So when we arrived at Fortingall Church I was pleased to see that there was a hotel with a public bar next door to it.
As we approached the yew through the churchyard we found ourselves being transported back through time. Inlaid into the floor are highlights from history and at the end is the yew tree itself, demonstrating its incredible age (2,000 to 5,000 years old). Now we were within touching distance of the tree, and I was keen to find out what this tree was capable of.
Ben Nevis is a tall mountain. I can report that back from first-hand experience. Yet, despite its arduous and seemingly never-ending path up, there was one incident that made the effort all worthwhile. M and I were on our way up towards the mist and clouds that hung around the upper part of the mountain. On our way we had to zig-zag across the initial slope up from Glen Nevis visitor centre car park. Once you start moving back and forth across the slop, you know you’re in for a steep climb!
We had reached one of the streams which cross the path and before us was a little ramshackle hut hiding underneath a small but aged tree. It may have been hawthorn, I wasn’t paying attention. The reason for my diversion was that as I drew level with the tiny shack a robin appeared on a branch that was in my eye line. I stopped. The robin turned to eye me up side on. I thought to myself “I need to make contact”, so I introduced myself and acknowledged its presence and thanked it for its attention. I offered it some love, joy and respect emotions through my heart chakra. It chirruped at me, but remained on the branch. I looked up the path ahead. M was beginning to realise that I was not right behind her any more and turned to find out why. I directed her attention to the robin, but she wasn’t engaging with me, and she certainly wasn’t about to come back down to look. I said my goodbyes to the bird and then continued up the path to meet M.
It was a beautiful experience, one which I will remember for a while. Rarely do we get the chance to be so engaged with wildlife. I was clearly being invited to pay attention to something : some message or sign that was important at this time – the time of the Autumn Equinox. Something wanted to be with me as I travelled that day.
We reached the top and didn’t stay long. It was freezing and unrewarding being on the summit. The scene cuts now to hours later. We are getting tea ready after our monumental climb, and beginning to relax and settle into the motorhome in the Glen Nevis site at the base of the huge mountain. I have offered to go and fill up the water carrier that we use when we haven’t got a fresh water supply for the motorhome. As I step out of the van a robin appears next on the lawn some mere four or five feet away from where I stand frozen to the spot. Again, this seems to be “for me” alone. We exchange words again, and again I offer my heartfelt energy in exchange for its interest.
As we settle in for the evening I begin to muse about the coincidence of the interested robin(s). It’s Merlin in his Winter guise, I wondered?
This is a short post with a simple story. M and I were on holiday in Scotland and we had just had a beautiful stay at a site above the town of Arberlour on the Speyside Whisky Trail. The weather had been incredibly mild and with only the occasional speckles of thin rain the night before. Now the clouds seemed to be gathering as M drove us alongside the River Spey towards our morning destination – The Findhorn Community, situated between Elgin and Nairn.
We looked around as we drove. The rain was coming down now, harder and thicker with every mile. Having prepared her somewhat for the potential delight of the Findhorn gardens and homes we were a bit dejected at the idea of visiting such beauty on a dull, dismal day.
“Surely“, M said, “…you could do something about it?“
I wasn’t about to make any promises that I couldn’t keep, but it did occur to me that I could perhaps ask for the assistance of the elemental spirits of the area to co-operate in producing a clear area around Findhorn just for the duration of our visit. It seemed a little selfish, but we wanted dearly for the occasion to be as special as we hoped. Was it possible?
Folks, you have been very patient with me while I am going through some transitions in my life. We used to post as regularly as clockwork. Now we’re posting as a when we can in between the whirlwind that our paths have become. The October Storms have come early for both Kal and I, despite the good weather all around us! Your patience is appreciated – stick with us. We have lots of great tales to tell you as the season changes.
I will start with the story of my transition through the Autumn Equinox. I hope it was eventful, but mostly fruitful for you. For me it was one door closing and another opening. A portal, truly! The Equinox fell during my week long holiday in Scotland. M and I had driven up from Cheshire into the heartland and highlands of The Cairngorms in our motorhome, and had decided to do some “wild camping”, parking at the side of the Old Military Road near to Balmoral Castle - advertising itself as the summer home of The Queen.
I felt edgy – I knew it was the Equinox the next morning, and I wanted to do something, but was I in the right place? Was this beautiful location a sacred space? I decided to get up early on the Equinox day to find out.
Northumberlandia – Cramlington, Northumberland
Since the land sculpture was finally revealed in 2012 I have had Northumberlandia close to the top of my wish list of places to visit. I was excited at the prospect of a truly modern act of regeneration which had a clear dedication to the Goddess in the land – The Lady of the North. This sculpture seemed to hold the promise of a modern sacred space which would be rampant in beautiful subtle energies.
Could it be true? Could a modern artist – Charlie Jencks – have created such a sacred energetic space out of the ruins of industrialisation? This regeneration project seemed hopeful and I was dying to find out. Luckily, on a holiday to Scotland recently I got the chance to find out for myself.
“His many landforms are based on the idea that landforming is a radical hybrid activity combining gardens, landscape, urbanism, architecture, sculpture, and epigraphy. Thus the landforms often include enigmatic writing and complex symbolism. Landforms provoke the visitor to interpret landscape on the largest and smallest scale.
Jencks has become a leading figure in British landscape architecture. His landscape work is inspired by fractals, genetics, chaos theory, waves and solitons” (source: Wikipedia)