How Do You Feel When You Look At The Stars?

How does anyone feel when we can see a night sky? Diamond bright pinpoints of light; some older than our own planet, wink and twinkle suspended above us, as we marvel and endeavour to make sense of what and why it is all happening.

That is, if we take time to notice at all.

At the time of my birth, the Plough, or the Great Bear [Ursa Major] was in the Sky. Little Bear following on [Ursa Minor] has since become an inspiration to me for a story of how a Mother and Cub became constellations. It intrigues me as to how any Constellations formed.

Chaos. That was the state of play at the time of the Big Bang; was it not?

It is said the Greeks first looked at the Sky and tracked the ‘wandering lights’ calling them ‘Planets’ they may have in the Western Hemisphere, it is however just as possible that the Mayans were tracking those stars too, even earlier in time. We have less evidence for that since the data on that was destroyed by Conquistadors and the Priesthood sent from Spain to relieve the Natives of their Gold and replace it with something less than was evidently good for them.

We are not the only beings that look to the night skies, the Wolf sings to the Moon, letting the other members of the Pack they are there. The lone Wolf also sings to the Moon and the Stars.

Birds and even Butterflies and Moths, Cetaceans and so many other creatures are mindful of the night skies.

It is only at certain phases of the moon, in certain seasons that the seas become a massive nursery of new life.

How do they know? How do they calculate the right time, the right phase? It’s as if they have an inner clock that is energetically wired to the changes happening around them.

We had that.

We still have that, we just find it hard to find it and release it from the cubby hole of gunk and stuff and technology and stresses. If we bother to look for it at all.

Even though it’s muffled chimes ring on, under it all.

We don’t look up.

We don’t see anything beyond a rectangle of technology, that is our world now.

Shall we one day, instead raise our eyes to the Sky again and wonder at it’s magnificence? Will we still know the mythology of the constellations? Shall we understand the dying light of stars long dead, shines still as it traverses distances that we cannot conceive?

Shall we look up and know that is where we began?

What is it to understand that we are the stuff of Stars? How does that translate to mundane tasks like paying the Taxman, paying rent, paying….and working in order to pay…?

When we dream are we dreaming on beams of Starlight? Is it memory? The being in the deepest of darks, our way lit only by those pin spots, themselves now only the stuff of dreams, since never discovered, never charted we can only see an impression of what and where they were; their existance shown by the beacon of bright energy diminishing as it travels to the ends of the Universe.

How is it, to conceive of that? The magnitude of it all?

How do I feel when I look at the Stars? Humbled, connected, a part of and apart from, small, a speck of dust from one, the only evidence of it’s existance… Powerful that this element is within me. Consciously aware of the knowledge that I am, here, now, a being who is all of this and more.

Purposeful and joyful and sad all at once.

I seek the moon, I seek the Plough, I breathe in the night air, I open my throat and I HOWL ! I celebrate the night Sky I celebrate being. I call upon any with the eyes to see and the ears to hear and the heart to love and the will to walk forward.

Such a feeling is that.

Singing The Song Of The Soul

Bloganuary: Describe Yourself As A Tree

Shamans & Trees

There’s a lot of Folklore and Magick centred around Trees. Faeries live in them and or their roots. Dryads merge with them to hide in plain sight. The Faerie Forest is filled with stories of magical, mystical things

So how do I choose to be as one tree? There is of course that ONE tree – the Tree Of The World Yggdrasil.

Yggdrasil the treewhich stands in the Middle World and whose branches reach out over the 9 realms and is the centre of the Cosmos, holding it all together; in Viking Lore if the tree falls all the realms fall with it.

Trees and creation stories. Trees; they are ubiquitous in the tales of our being. There is tell of a saying about knowing the Shamans of the World, they are the birds who sit on the topmost outer branches of the tree. They share the tree with the other birds but they sit apart, on the highest, outermost, exposed branches. This is a paraphrase and more of my take on what was written. It is true though. There are many of us who are a part of, and still apart from our relative communities.

To be a tree. It is my wish to be a tree. I can do this when I leave this earthly plane. The physical part of me can nourish the roots of a new tree.

I admire the fae-ish Silver Birch, who can be seen shiny-bright under the Moon; standing elegant tall and silent strong.

The chitter chatter of Faeries in the Hawthorn, from the sleepy roots to the bustling branches, there is so much magic in this tree. So much magic that the lone Faerie Thorn is never disturbed for fear of the incumbant Fae taking their revenge.

If you have ever been travelling in Ireland and Scotland and have viewed a lone tree, in a field or on a roundabout, or in the middle of a bypass and thought to yourself, ‘I wonder how that got to be there.’ Then it is possible that what you are looking at is a Faerie Hawthorn Tree.

The mythology around these trees is well known to the older generations, and is being lost as time goes on, however, the legends come back to the fore when roadways, buildings and land purchases are being made and one is found to be somewhere in the picture. The power of the apocryphal stories involving the repurcussions of uprooting these trees is impressive.

The sturdy steadfast Oak. The magical choice of Druid lore and mistletoe. The Seasonal Sentinel of Ancestral knowledge and more. A tree whose age is measured in epochs, whose roots are the anchors of time.

The Mountain Ash AKA the Rowan Tree, a Spiritual Guardian and tool of the Druids, (they did a lot with Trees and have a whole calendar based around them). It’s a resilient little tree and the berries feed the birds long into the late Autumn, those Druids used those berries and the bark to dye ritual clothing black for lunar ceremonies. It’s known in Scotland as a protector against enchantment and Witchcraft. It has mythologies globally. For such an unasuming tree it has a massive place in Cultural history across the World.

The Eucalyptus, the comeback kid, from raging fires this tree returns Phoenix like from the ashes.

There are so many, so many that I could write a book about the relative merits and stories of them all.

Which wood I choose?

In my garden I have Acers, Japanese Maples in pots. One day it is my wish that I have a garden of my own in which they can grow. A peaceful medatative space. I have a deep connection with these trees since I have watched them grow and helped to nurture them along.

That is one thing.

My way of thinking is that when we remember what the Tree is, what they do, and how they are the lungs of the Earth, then we might be more respectful of them. We might be even more respectful when we can think of ourselves as Trees. Connected, communal, beautiful, healing and having a World wide connective root system, so each knows what is happening to another from anywhere in the World. The hosts of Dryads and Elemental beings. The source of the homes we build, the fuel we might use to heat those homes, the fuel on which we might cook the food we eat. They even feed our animals too. They give us shade in the Summertime and protect us from wind and so much more. They are hospitable friends who we have taken for granted for so long.

There is a song by KailashKokopelli , ‘I Am A Walking Tree https://youtu.be/MQwG1vfM4lw and so I am already a Tree – a walking tree.

Shamanically the Tree represents the 3 Worlds, Upper, Middle, and Lower Worlds. These Worlds that we can connect to.

Let’s be Walking Trees together.

Dryad Tree Spirit

If Music Be The Food Of Love

The top of my top list of albums

The prompt for today is Music and the question is ‘what’s on your playlist?’

Being an older personage and having an eclectic taste in music there is more off my playlist than on it. That is not to say that what is not on it is not favoured…more that the storage capacity of my phone just can’t handle the list!

From Beethoven to the Beatles, from Jim Croce to Eddison Lighthouse, from A – Z from the 1920’s all the way to now there are songs and memories attached to those songs and pieces of music. I remember Mozart’s 40th symphony getting into the charts when I was still quite young, 1971 as it happens. The year before All Things Must Pass, was released, though my introduction to it took a wee bit longer to occur.

Music can be an all consuming passion. It certainly manages to transport us TARDIS like as within the notes, lyrics and melodies are the hooks to faces, places, times, events, loves found and loves lost. Bitter Sweet Symphonies indeed. There is so much of our lives in the music, like touchstones, each song is a memory, a feeling, a place in Space and Time.

All Things Must Pass is a treasured box of memories. It is also a good thing to remember. Impermanence, even now I wonder how many songs are not on my list that hold pieces of my life’s experience.

Shall I seek them out, or wait to be surprised while listening to a radio show sometime?

For me there is less music that is new. The compulsion to have everything, all the time, in a gadget does not fill me with glee.

I would rather dance myself into trance with James Asher’s Shaman’s Drums than listen to ads with musical interludes.