Wednesday, December 10, 2014

As I gently crack open


 



surrounded by other cracking psyches,  I petition intelligence to change the scene, to give some space and ease to all of us who :


who have fought the fight
who have shone with courage
who quivered with strength
who has just managed to play along with this existence and it's insanity.

no one is being spared.
we have gone from incredulous to silent, worn, in watch mode,
seemingly fallen from grace.

to all who feel unworthy due to their lack of successs, lack of riches,  lack of parenting awards, lack of anything - maywe know  the  fullness of being and its attendant peace.

to all those who just keep falling off the wheel  - those who are just lain out, hollowed and disbelieving - may we re-discover the magnificence of your being.

and may the eternal mother father God recognise our journey and how much it has taken in effort and courage, and may that loving God grant us respite.
may the loving God grant humanity  ease,  sense of well being.
 a time of anxiouslessness o of peace, of joy, of recovery, of celebration, of jubilation.

may we all experience a miracle this Christ season.
may we all just have a chance to breathe and smile again in the certainty that I am.

with much, much love to all who read this ,  you know who you are.
and if any of you know the art of prayer - please pray on my self and family.



















not so very long ago when we had moved from one challenge to the next - we landed up towing a vehicle from the mountains and this is what surrounded us.

Wednesday, October 1, 2014

Celestial Soups from a Celestial Gathering.





Again my intention is to write more often and again I find myself spending free time in the garden watching the light infuse the leaves, the blossoms, the bees.  And in that space I am captivated and unable to tear away from.   So forgive me my absence, it is in physicality and words only and not in heart.

It is my intention to fil you in on where I am stainding in life right now.
What happened with the unschooling,  the new tribes,  the imminent changes and such.
Butuntil I manage that with its attendant sorrows,  I am posting soup recipes.
Nothing hidden in that title.

The last weekened saw Pieter, Iona and self heading off towards Stanford - to a retreat held by an old friend Georgina and capable helpers    And although in truth we know we are never born and never die,  for celebration purposes we were celebrating her 60th earth day. 
Starting on a Friday night with a mushroom ceremony as the moon entered Scorpio,  allowing some deeply buried stuff to move out with overwhelming intensity for many.
And then the weekend simply unflowed, with much san pedro.deep connecting,  gardening, resting,  laughingsilencing, voicing, and all the time celebrating.  Needless to say the eating was high up on the list.  And thus the point of this very overdue blog.  Because I undertook to capture and share the recipes and chose the format to do so , so that my beloved blog tribe can also participate.

 The most beautiful Gioni and her grandbabes, Coco and Ava.

So the first one is :


Sweet potato, spinach and coconut soup


1 tspn paprika
1 tbsn ginger  (grated)

1 tbsn garlic (crushed)
1 large onion (chopped)
1 tspn curry paste (thai green)
600ml veg stock
Juice of 1 lime
1/4 tsp crushed chilli (skins only)
2 cups fresh spinach (chopped coarsely)
1 tin coconut milk
1 large sweet potato (cubed)
2 tbsns oil.

- fry chopped onion with curry paste, ginger and garlic until soft, add sweet potato and fry for a minute.
  add stock and boil till tender but not soft, add lime juice and coconut oil, paprika, chilli and boil for a further 5 minutes.
-let cool slightly and puree half of the soup.
-bring back to boil and once it starts to boil add spinach and serve.

Sitting around the fire on Saturday night, some frequent ceremony goers voted this without doubt the best soup ever.  A very high recommendation.

Zuchhini Soup

1 chopped onion
1 pack zucchini cut into rings
1 tbsn thyme
600ml veg stock
1 tub cream cheese.

-fry onion with thyme until soft
-add zuchini and stock and boil for 30 minutes
-remove from heat and add cream cheese
-let it cool and liquidize soup.
-bring back to the boil and remove from heat
as soon as the first buttles appear.
-Serve with sprinkle of cayenne pepper.

And on that note I love and leave you to do a spring walk, with the aromatic scents bursting forth.

How many surrealists does it take to change a light bulb?



A fish.

Ha ha.






























Monday, April 28, 2014

Planted on the mountain.

So the day I had been dreading arrived.
Why do something you dread a few around me asked.
Well sometimes the heart decides on something and despite the antics of the mind a decision is held to.
And thus I find myself travelling with much trepidation to a venue where I have decided to follow an ancient path of intitiaiton.  When you do one vision quest you align yourself to completing the 7, 9 and 13 day quests as well.  This,  the four day one is to bring about humility.
Tao,  my 20 year old son is with me.

Leading up to this moment in time,  I had prayed for it and prayed for it to be cancelled with equal fervour.
For me the thought of 4 days wihtout shelter was okay,  4 days without food was okay, 4 days without water would be the difficult and not without danger - so mind spend many hours singing to me.
And the cold.   Only natural fibers could be taken up and I had no waterproofing and no  groundsheet.
Where was my large, thick sheepskin - purely in the  land of wishful thinking.
So once again I am the underprepared one.
A duvet , a coat , a grass mat and two sweaters are packed into a non plastic bag.
When I see my fellow questers and their organization the doubts once again come surging in .


We sit in the sweat lodge.   They have chosen large stones.  And because on the Red Path, the numbers 13, 9, 7 and 4 are the numbers of stones used.  It is intense.   So much is sweated out that I doubt I have any moisture left in this body.   And from there straight to be planted on the mountains.  No washing the muddied sweat of us - not a sip of water as we cross the gurgling stream.   Seven men and seven women - 14 in total climb the mountain to be planted in our space where we will remain for 4 days and 4 nights.    14 of us - on the 14/4/2014.  The night of the cardinal cross and the blood moon.
In the sweat we gave up our voices to the silenceand in that space we left the community and went to meet ourselves.


We walked up to a space which was to be my womb for the next 4 days and 4 nights.   I was immediately disappointed.    Life can be such a bitch.   I had been told as I was the eldest I would probably get the nicest spot at the top,  smooth and easy.  Instead I am placed first,  closest to the water and not a square inch of flatness or space to be comfortable in.    And did my mind react violently to this discomfot.   And how do you know life wants you to have something - because it gives it to you.   Simone and Beth had decided back at support base that they probably would have to move me but when they came up to do so - it was one of the few short minutes in those 96 hours that I actually had slept and with that comforting them they left me in the lair.

We had been taught how to breathe in water from the air and the remarkable thing was that my mouth never ran dry.    I had very strong images of the ceremonial bucket used in the 4 tobacco ceremonies and the cup used to serve the sacred water.   I saw this vessel more than anything else.    It became the Grail.  Sacred water was my only desire.

Originally it was my intention to pray solidly with the mantras that I had come to cherish and savour.   I had looked upon it in the lead up as an opportunity for uninteruppted devotion.   An hour after being planted I stepped into eternity.  This time there would have no end,  forever I would be alone on the mountain.  I wore my fingers numb counting the days and nights, just hoping that I might have miscounted.  The mantras mouthed silently dried up at the end of the first day.  They would not be spoken, sung or contracted in any way whatoever.

The mornings and evenings the conches would be blown in the 4 directions,  and the most heartfelt prayers would be sung.  It was the coldest time of the day.   The first morning,  madrinho Simone sang with such heartfelt love and passion that a sob from the deepest part of my being was born and rumbled in and around the earth.   And in between those prayers my monkey mind was king.   Uncontrollable.  Nothing to distract it.  Like a stuck record complaining over and over again about the spot I was planted on.  Blah blah blah blah.  You all know the relentlessness of the mind - well meet it without a single distraction and you have a version of hell.  I questioned what I was doing up there - vowed I would never ever do anything on the medicine path again.  So much like childbirth.  The joy of being in early labour,  then the exhaustion and despair and the vow to never allow this to happen to your body again.  Then the relief of the birth and holding the living child.  Except I was a long way from the relief.    And in between,  the issue of homelessness of my fellow humans would not leave me alone.  Eyes of despair and hopelessnes kept appearing.  Heartbreak and loss,  aloneness and abandonment, war and refugees, hundreds and hundreds of eyes kept tapping on my soul.  The pain of life for the majorty of humanity  became my shroud up on the mountain.

In a moment of absolute desparation I remember to follow the breath.   To set a peg at every master number - 11 -22-33-44-55-66-77-88-99 and on each master number to be present to what arose.  Suddenly mind was no loger ruler - it was being entertained by keeping count and the heart would utter something on the number and a smile would arise and the count would continue.   Teachers, saints, loved one's, elements, aspects of nature,  places needing healing, qualities, attributes, essence arose one after the other in full presence.    That first day that I found myself in Living Prayer, 3800 conscious breaths unfolded, each with a wish a prayer, and gratitude.  A place of great stillness and peace.

The 3rd night I had a dream that I was with a long dead friend of mine -  in the dream the question of him being alive or not did not arise,  all that did exist was my delight at being with him again.  I wanted to let Pieter know where I was but the phone gave a mesasge that a call could not be made from that dimension.  The next moment a wave of heat , unlike anything I had every known engulfed me and woke me up.  I threw the duvet off and stripped naked on that mountain, despit the low temperature.  My heart was pounding as if I had just received the largest non fatal dose of adrenaline.  And then in the distance I heard the support/love team singing the Santo Daime, Santa Maria hinario.  The sacred fire in the altar in the night was the Daime cross and it was pointing straight towards me.

And yet, despite the absolutely overwhelming miracle of unfoldment that was present,  mind reasserted itself on the final morning.  Restless,  having had enough and still bitching about the sloping piece of land I awaited the harvest.   When Beth and Simone approached me and hugged me a sob arose.  That human contact was the most beautiful thing I have ever experienced.

We went straight into another sweat lodge still with no water,  so all the water that had been in our bodies had been sweated, urinated out.  The third round we smoked the sacred tobacco and our voices came back via song and sharing.  And then that cup of water from the ceremonial bucket was passed around and I have never in my life been more grateful for anything more.  New water for the body.  We drank, and drank.  Had watermelon and grapes in water.  The most delicous food I have ever eaten.  And drank some more and were then adviced to eat some soup to replace saline. And the body held onto the water for 16 hours before it would pass any of it through .   This whole body of water that I am was anew and afresh.

And from there we moved straigth into the closing 4 tobacco ceremony where I found my place in the grand scheme of things and arrived home.   Surrounded by such clarity, love, understanding, faith, wisdom, ancient knowledge I was welcomed as True Being..    The little me,  the chattering monkey mind with all her stuff is still on the mountain,  surrounded by the prayer flags and the sacred mountain air.  I send her love and gratitude.

I am indebted to the keepers of the ancient knowledge.
To the beings who with such love and such dilligence enabled this transistion.
To the songs, to the elders, to the sacred fire, to Mother Earth,  to the knowing.
To my family who encouraged me and allowed me my doubts and encouraged me to follow through.
To Iona who the night before went around the mountain in the pouring rain, praying for my safety.
To Beth and Enio for the wisdom and the message.
To Mike and Simone for holding the vision and for the land.
To the very generous being who donated and allowed this to happen.
And to Life itself and all her ascended masters.
To the bat, the dragonfly and scarab beetle who came to reasure me.

Aho Metakiase

I find myself in the evening sitting by the fire, making the  prayer flag for next year when God willing I will do the 7 day Quest.




  Aangirfan has been blocked out of the website.  New address http://aanirfan.blogspot.co.uk/

 






Thursday, April 10, 2014

Rest in Peace

Pacific Ocean born 4.54 million years ago
Died officially 2014.

I am sorry
Please forgive me
I love you.



God help Earth and her creatures, we have sure fucked it up.



Wednesday, March 26, 2014

In Search of a Vision.

    






He who cannot help himself cannot help others.
                                                                                      Hazrat Inayat Khan

Self doubt arises again.   Pulling one into a vacuum where you just go deeper and deeper into the absurdity of mind.    
For  a while I found a bay of safety and understanding to park my boat. 
When I first happened upon the invitation – the first time in my life where an offer was extended to me to rest in safe waters.    And it was absolutely sincere and of full value.   So grateful was I for the offer that even if the harbour had turned out to be tumultuous it would not have detracted from the mere fact t that it was such a long awaited invitation.

I really could use that.  Still.   Safe.   Protected.
And in many, many ways I am.  Probably I am sure that at least 6.9 billion people would envy my life.
There is no war near me.    A friend was attacked in his home last year in McGregor and nearly died, but that was shocking in its rarity.    The weather, well while you beings in the northern hemisphere were being whacked left, right and centre,   our days here were blissful.  A gentle summer with some gifts of unexpected rain.    the usual extreme high temps but absolutely life threatening climate.
There is food to eat, and Tao is visiting so we are eating well.   So why the self doubt.  What is it that makes me feel I am out of the bay, my ship is tumbling aimlessly in a huge ocean of futility.

 


Pieter and I needed to cross a mountain to return home.  We were sitting on a large picnic blanket with two friends - financially successful friends who party and wine and dine.   We are the very poor relatives.   They ask if we have gas to get home.  They know us well.  Pieter smiles and says yes and I think yeah,  thank you Life.   They leave.  On the blanket is a gas container.  In the dram I don’t ask Pieter how that gas can make a car run.  Instead I smile beamingly and say yes, we have petrol.  He looks at me and his face saddens and tells me no we don’t.   But he was not going to say no because he did not want to be given.    I need to find some shoes to cross the mountain.  We walk to a house just off the road.  In the dark the light from the windows is orange, warm inviting.  We step into the home and it is just simplicity but also of such beauty.   There is an aura of abundance and grace.  The meal is being prepared.      My heart yearns for this ease.  It is all relative.  Someone is yearning for what I have.  We set off into the night to go over the mountain and only tool we have is a head torch.  Pretty rich symbology.

I awaken at 4.33 - the owls are silent.  Normally I would get up out of the tent, pull a sleeping bag over me and head to the chair.   And normally at this time the black hen and her five teens are as dark as the sky and yet somehow they stand out.  Normally I watch them because they move out of the lavender bush which had become their nest onto the lawn and stand together tightly but all with their heads bowed.  They stand very still in this position  And those of you who know their fowl know they rarely stand still.  After  many minutes the rooster crows.  And after a few rounds they move out of their sacred circle and into the slowly awakening day.  Normally I witness this with absolute no diminishment of awe and wonder.    The most potent time of day.  The awakening to a new day.



But today I say no to any possible abidance in the magic that lies before me.
I am feeling uncomfortable but when I try to feel the feeling it becomes clear I can’t feel the feeling I can only think what I am feeling.   In that moment.
A thought arises listing the possible productive steps and actions I could follow that day.  I could help with the cobbling of the path,  I could do some watering,  I  could have taken up any meditation of action.  Made a cup of tea.   Absolutely anything.  
I have come to understand of late how vital gratitude is..     To trust that everything that unfolds is by divine decree and perfect.  And a lot of the time it flows in gushes and yet there are many things that I am unable to accept let alone be grateful for - . I can’t give thanks for the fact that the planet  is facing  imminent extinction,  or the injustices against us people manifested every day through the usury financial system.  . Or the felling of a nearby forest which left the river bed completely stripped of its century old sentinels.  The wild life all gone in a few days.  The wood chips exported to the USA and the wood to England.  Two guys got the contract and made millions.   Why was that allowed?   Why were the people not allowed to benefit ?  So there is much I am really unable to be grateful for and that is where this vacuumed feeling arises from.

As a kid my superpower was that I could stop people from harming other people or animals just with the power of my mind.  As I grew older I would take on greater and greater challenges.  My  mind would take me to places where children were forced into prostitution and I would be able to not only free them but paralyse those who were responsible for their slavery.  I would every night go around the world putting things right.

And then I suddenly morphed into middle age and found myself having faced a little bit too much reality to believe in super powers anymore.    All I could see was the suppression, the subjugation the power against the powerlessness.   The script become so tardily written that we all immediately call out the lies, and yet they continue to feed them to us.  Continue to beat the drums of a complete destruction of the higher human qualities.    The Zionists have effectively reduced our examples from beings such as the Prophets and their followers to caricatures with no redeeming qualities.   The celebrities have taken the place of the mystics and the learned one’s.     When the people we are taught to respect are people Steven Jobs then I say Why -  he ran a  good business,  paid the factory workers in China badly,  made a lot of money -  why do we call him a visionary?    Why are we not shown those beings who speak to each other in a way that takes ones breath away.   At the re-memberance and at the quality.  Why are we not shown examples of beings who do make a difference.  Who do put things right.  Imagine if we were shown examples of the highest communication possible.
How can we raise ourselves up if that which we are being shown is in the filth?

I decide I am going to walk until there is a shift.   If it takes all day I will walk around and around my village with India.  I will huff and puff and find a way through.     A street sweeping crew is just ahead.
Some dust arises from their actions and a piece of paper is airborne.   It flies up determinedly until its heaviness brings it back to earth.  Right by my feet.  I pick it up and in blue writing there are the words
Expect a miracle.  I hand it over to the one sweet sweeper.  She smiles and pockets it.

I have received that message before.  When the boys were very young and we had gone on a birthday outing and when it came time to go home the car would not start.   Young babes, supper time and that heart wrenching moment you all know as parents when you have to start improvising big time.   The car next to us had a bumper sticker extorting us to expect a miracle.  

I go to the village retreat.  The gardens are always beautiful.  Sprnklers spraying, sun shining,  water sparkling, breeze breathing.  A most perfect day – I walk towards the library.  A pea hen is at the door with her 6 babes.  I look at all these books and again that numbness presented itself.  My eye was drawn to a book of no discerneble colour, shape or size.    Out of the hundreds in front of me my hands reached out for a book entitled  “The Power of Miracles”  and the numbness vanished.

I want to return to the belief that I could perform miracles -  that it is our birthright to be miracle workers.   I want to heal the world around me.    I want to offer safety to all  the innocents:   plants, animals, minerals, humans.    I don’t want to suddenly enter the workplace and be successful, no  I came with a super power and it is my intention to awaken that.

On the 14th of April some Brazilians of love and integrity will be landing on our shores again.
On the 13th there will be a Santo Daime ceremony and two days later a on the 13th there will be a Santo Daime ceremony and two days later a four tobacco gathering.    The morning afterwards a few of us climb solo into the mountain where we remain alone for 4 days and 4 nights with no food or water.
We are allowed one pure wool blanket and a tarpaulin and warm clothing..   One needs 365 pouches with tobacco in them and some bigger prayer flags to place around one.    Some conscious preparation.    At the base camp there is prayer and support for those visioging.     One ends the vision quest with another  4 tobacco happening.     Tao will also be questing.  He has paid for his by living on the mountain for some months doing work to pay for it.

Now for the me the 4 tobacco’s are always appealing.  The ritual, the fire keeping ,  the presence,  the message from spirit   - the presence of the people destined to be in the circle,   all much desired.  The being in the mountain at zero degrees,   maybe wet, certainly uncomfortable.  Sleep kept to a minimum.   There is nothing about this that appeals to me.
I can do discomfort - I really can - but 96 hours is like a really long flight without the comfort of a cabin.  And yet I know that this is what is needed for my super power to re emerge. 
  To untangle the lie of powerless I have been sold.
  To untangle the lie of lack of innocence that I have  come to believe.  
The lie of unworthiness which has become my second skin.   
This space time event where eventually the ego cannot exist as the body is just switches to  survival mode.  To spend four days, undisturbed in the Presence of the Divine Being.


So here is where you come in, those of you whom I call my friends and those new to this page.
I have put a donate button here so that there can be a financial miracle which will allow me to actually embark on the Question of Vision.   This re-emergence of my powers as being a force of good.

Because to end as we began with a quote from one of these beings I spoke of as being of such respect and sincerity Hazrat Khan    - ‘  The moment a prisoner feels that he will no longer remain in the prison,  the prison bars must break instantly, of themselves’.                                
                                         

















Saturday, July 20, 2013

Ramadam Mubarak




To our  Islamic family.
At this time of potentiality,
At this moment of grace and power
May love prevail and may all prisoners held in political moves
Force fed by the enemy at the supreme time of fasting –
I am sorry
Please forgive me
I love you.

May the Grace and Power be yours in victory of Spirit imminently, before the close of the sacred time.
May all who have been subject to the vagaries and humane-less situations upheld by the Western governments may you find yourself rulers of your selves once again.

At this critical time – the fullness of my prayers is for peace and respect.



I know someone who was walking along the clay road one night and an owl swooped in front of her not once but three times.  Low down, close enough to reach out and touch.  When she looked up as it flew off the sky had changed. 
In a very subtle way.  And of course when one thing changes everything  else shifts.   
The winter sun would beckon her into its grasps. 
So beautiful to have a strongish winter sun. 
Hour upon hour  the two gazed at each other.   And amidst this adoration, this sphere of light  duplicated within.  .  This ever present light / warmth beating away.  Thought  replaced by fractal imagery and light.
The buttons that kept her engaged in the world had somehow just worn so smooth that nothing could press them, engage her, and bring her back to the world of thinking. 


A monk takes a bet that he can go into Samadhi for 10 years and the bet is that if he can he will get a really good horse.  So off he goes to his sacred space where he becomes nothing and no one. 
For all those full and new moons he just was without.  They would go and check on him through the years.
 On the appointed day a contingent of seniors went off to help him return to ‘life’.  This was done by deliberately chanting specific prayers and such.
He re-turned and one of the first things he asked was for his horse.
Can you imagine 10 years stillness and as soon as you open your eyes you return to the same state of mind as before.  That thought had not disappeared it was just resting.  So one can go into empty space and yet when returning it is the same mind that sees the world in the same way as it did before. 

Iona and I set off on an epic to be present for the birth of a 3rd grandchild.  The only way we could do this was by 24 hour long bus drives each way.  Each way was a journey where I really admired this young woman travelling with me.  Not an easy journey and yet with her company it was special and memorable in its own way.  Molly Grace arrived by grace and with grace.  And although my daughter has other children that call me granny – it was only on my return home that I actually became a grandmother.

When you have a child you immediately become a mother.  Occasionally you get a woman who births who does not become the mother – but it is rare.  You don’t have to become a mother you just are one upon the infants birth.

Two evenings before I departed from the grand children,  I had a dream where I was in the rain forest and a very small being knighted me with the branch of a vine.  I was then told to attend a ceremony homeward bound the night after I arrived home.  There had been no sleep whatsoever on the bus.  I came home, greeted animals and kids after a month’s absence, packed the ceremonial bag  and headed off on another journey.

The ceremony was in a place it had never been before.  Each ceremony I had experienced had been on a farm in the mountains.  Deep into stillness, very close to the stars.  Tonight we had driven into the city.   Cars racing by all the time.  Transience being a dominant quality.  The venue was an antique shop  just off the roadways.   There was a roaring welcoming fire outside and inside there was much stuff.  A crocodile skin stretched out on the stairs,  three huge buck heads on the wall.  Instead of our usual plastic chairs we had choices of all kinds of luxuries.  It was fascinating to see how the choices that were being made were not for the benefit of the group as they usually were but rather the desire for personal comfort.   All this stuff and its accordant history and that that attached to the energy of the objects.  I was really tired and questioned how I would do an all night ceremony.  But I was there and I over rode my basis sense.  Something said just go and sit by the fire, sing the songs out there but don’t sign up for this one.

I came very close to dying several times.    Just moving very slowly in a different direction.  There was no way I could regulate my breathe or hold myself at all.  It became apparent that there was a war happening and it was happening in me.  How could there be war anywhere but inside oneself.   Two forces, duality – warring in a way that would not allow the taking of prisoners.  I realized I was not either side but rather that which was watching/knowing the unfolding.  And because I was not vested in good or bad but rather observation there was no vested interest in any outcome.  For hours this went on – and all the time in the background there was the sweet Daime singing.    And then at a perfect moment in time,  Anna stood in front of me, raised her arms and just called me back.   This tiny woman turned on such a field of light energy that I found myself breathing and able to move again.  Slowly the animating force was resting, out of a fierce battle.   At that moment my ancestors spoke and congratulated me on being a grand mother.
I had become a grand mother.  Before I was just a granny.  Such an honour and priveledge to be an elder at a youngish age.  Most grateful for the initiation and for that which sustained me through it to be free of fear and be open and receptive to the inflow of energy.

So Life carries on in all her depths and heights.  In all her sacred times, the washing of the dishes, the insights, the reading of the news, the talking to friends, the gazing at the sun, the feeding of the family, the growing of the business.  Please have a look and give me some feedback on the project that has taken years to put together.  Well the product has been there but not this medium.

On that note it is the most beautiful winters day,  I think I am going to find a warm sunny spot and take in the rays.   Sending you all much love.   Peace.
And please leave a greeting.

 I don't know who created this image but she is a beautiful muse.




Wednesday, June 19, 2013

Finding the inner temple.



Stepping into eternity
I reach the inner temple
No-thing exists here
yet everything is present.
In the deepest stillness
I imbibe the silence.

One day I will return
until then.........

The whole secret of existence is to have no fear. Buddha