Cosmic Cluedo
Who sows the seeds of destiny?
A few days after the August new moon, a little bear asked me if I had any pings on the number 216. I hadn’t and I joked: so that’s the 2 16s coming my way. He thought I had said, two sick Dean’s and I didn’t want to look at that possibility. However, the two sick Dean’s were already thrown into orbit with various other objects and on the auspicious day of August 23rd I was prompted to look at all the pieces and let the energies flow.
The name Dean, draws on 10, from the latin decan. In another iteration, Dean killed me while he was doing his duty as a soldier in the Roman army. I remember the encounter and it wounded him more than it did me. I have been through many deaths, so I can be here now and then. The masculine principle has been deeply wounded through its entrainment into duty and service to the Empire. The severing of the maternal bond, allowed the innate human morality that protects itself and others to be over-written with unnatural codes of conduct. Many atrocities have ensued.
But, the uninvited thought persisted: what about the primordial Father? Everyone I know has a hole in their lives where the wise father-figure should be.
Dean and I had talked about his ‘unit of 10’ and that it indicated the 10 archetypes he could call upon. We had also observed over many years, how he had used every method available to block any inputs related to magic or mysticism. That seems like an odd match, considering my interests, but my desire to break through to him was a major factor in helping me hone my skills in these areas. On that day, when I looked at the archetypes, I saw them as a ring at the perimeter of my biofield, about 5ft above my head. When I looked at them on Dean, I saw immediately that two were blocked and I unblocked them. It was as if some one had flung open a window; light, a fresh breeze and bird song filled the room and we were then able to liberate the archetypes for everyone.
The archetypes are plasmic streams of specific frequencies that encode the original pattern and foundational characteristics of the human. They form the auric seal, which is the protective membrane of “golden sound” that envelops the biofield in which our physical bodies exist. The archetypes emanate from the Sun and form in harmony with the electromagnetic field of the Earth. They are measurable and their existence as a wheel with frequency bands of specific colours located above the head has been confirmed, although the colours are likely to change.
The etymology of the word ‘archetype’ indicates that it is drawn from the word ‘arc’, which denotes the path of the Sun from horizon to horizon. The energy of the Sun is part of us, along with the energy and substance of the Earth. It moves through our waters, energizing our cells with a living intelligence and sentience that we are able to recognize as meaningful.
When you get this, you real-eyes that the “archon” is the arc on the Earth made by the path of the Sun. The Sun is literally and figuratively over the Earth and is the primary energy source of all life on Earth.
That evening, I was chatting with my fellow researchers when two books spontaneously fell off the book shelf. One of them was Gifts of Unknown Things, by Lyall Watson (the second time this had jumped off the shelf in the last week) and the other was Cosmic Trigger, by Robert Anton Wilson. I haven’t read the Gifts of Unknown Things and don’t remember buying the book, it is literally a gift of unknown things by an unknown donor. I’ve started reading it and it is magical, but more on that another time. Cosmic Trigger, is a difficult read and quite dated, but a little bear mentioned that it has a section on the ‘23 enigma’, so I read that.
It goes into various synchronicities involving the number 23 and he began to irritate his wife with it.
He wrote:
“It’s all in your mind,” she told me on several occasions. “You’re just noticing the 23s and ignoring the other numbers.”
Of course. But she was annoyed by being implicated in the 23 mystery even before she met me. Her two oldest daughters (by her previous marriage) were born on February 23rd and August 23rd respectively.
It was August 23rd and I’d been triggered. By whom?
By another little bear who bet on the number 23, of course.
In another lifetime, when we saw the spell of darkness falling, we gave ourselves clues to enable us to re-member ourselves in the opportune moment, by imprinting trigger words and numbers into the waters and the archetypal layer. The living archetypal layer forms the auric egg before we are born, so that we are born to parents at the key time that allows for the best match between our biological vessel and our imprinted skills, given the prevailing conditions. We knew we would forget ourselves, but we also knew that the memory of everything that has ever been is held in the waters of the Great Mother and accessible through resonant keys, sounds and movement. We are now re-membering ourselves and finding each other through the synchronicities that pop up from the underlying web, in which we are all connected. These are the results of seeds we have planted as our past, or future selves.
When played, as in brought into conscious awareness, the number 23 opens a channel for energies that destroy inferior structures, perceptions and entities, so that they can fall into alignment with a higher order. In order for this to work, there must be no interference with the destructive energies, or else they will bring down the ‘superior’ power.
I’m reading that this is the situation in play between August 23rd and the Autumn Equinox on the 23rd September.
From the I Ching, hexagram 23, Po/Splitting Apart:
“Six in the fifth place means:
A shoal of fishes, Favour comes through the court ladies.
Everything acts to further.”
This pings the last super moon of the year on September 29th, which is aligned with the magnetic-feminine fish, the 3-9-6 energies of the Earth.
“Here, in immediate proximity to the strong, light-giving principle at the top, [the sun and the archetypal layer] the nature of the dark force undergoes a change. It no longer opposes the strong principle by means of intrigues but submits to its guidance. Indeed, as the head of the other weak lines, it leads all of these to the strong line, just as a princess leads her maids in waiting like a shoal of fishes to her husband and thus gains his favour. Inasmuch as the lower element thus voluntarily places itself under the higher, it attains happiness and the higher receives its due. Therefore all goes well.
Nine at the top means.
There is a large fruit still uneaten.
The superior man receives a carriage.
The house of the inferior man is split apart.
Here the splitting apart reaches its end. When misfortune has spent itself, better times return. The seed of the good remains, and it is just when the fruit falls to the ground that good sprouts anew from its seed. The superior man again attains influence and effectiveness. He is supported by public opinion as if in a carriage. But the inferior man’s wickedness is visited upon himself. His house is split apart. A law of Nature is at work here. Evil is not destructive to the good alone but inevitably destroys itself as well. For evil, which lives solely by negation, cannot continue to exist in its own strength alone. The inferior man himself fares best when held under the control by a superior man.”
Last night, while I was writing this post, a bat flew in the room. I don’t know how it got there, the doors were closed and the open windows all have screens on them. Maybe it had got in earlier and had been snoozing up in the beams. It took us a while to liberate it – a cute little pipistrelle. Animals are my ‘triggers’. A flock of small birds flying by fast entrained like a shoal of fishes, puts me in a heightened state of awareness, in which I am both held in the magnetic field of the Mother and flying high or swimming deep at the same time. These days, my nervous system is playing staccato, I’m over excited. I need to make the effort to relax.
When we moved to Spain, I was in a similar heightened state to now. Our little van packed with all the necessaries and two dobermanns began to over heat just outside Calais. Dexter was seriously ill and couldn’t settle – he stood howling all way. What we had intended to be a leisurely trip with camping and sight-seeing, turned into an endurance race. Just over the border into Spain, we limped into a petrol station cloaked in a cloud of steam, where the van died and refused to start. Dean looked at me and asked: what are we going to do? We had no breakdown insurance.
“I’m going to call for help.”
“Who are you going to call?”
“Emma.”
Emma was a “birthday sister” as we shared the same birthday, 20 years apart. There was some magic between us.
Dean looked away and when I got off the phone, he asked, “What did she say?”
“She’s sent Angels.”
Before ‘that look’ shaped his face, I pointed at him and said, firmly, “Do not collapse the wave in that direction. We are on a sacred mission and we will reach our destination. Start the engine.”
The engine started and we made it through the gates into the property we had rented, before it finally gave up. It was five minutes to midnight.
The next day, we met a local farmer with quite severe scoliosis. As I was still in a heightened state and I had somehow discovered that we also shared the same birthday, I offered to help him. He came to the house three times and each time a bat flew in the window or the door. The third time, it landed on the low beam about a foot in front of my face and stared right at me, to make sure I got the point. He healed and something else happened; all the wrinkles went from his face, to such an extent that people were asking him if he had had a face-lift! As the result of that, I started doing therapy work within two weeks of arrival here…..the healing energy was flowing, as it is now.
The bat reminded me that we are playing a magnificent game here, with ourselves, each other and the powers of Nature. Bats are the only mammals who can fly; they have broken through the limitations that keep all other mammals earth-bound. It probably happened quite suddenly – evolutionary theory is not supported by any evidence at all – it might have been painful. It must have been a shock, but somehow and beyond reason, Nature gave these little mammals, the only ones in the whole world, the gift of flight. Such a beautiful reminder of what is possible. I love that!
Next post: On the Trail of Her Clues, the gift of the golden antlers
