Archive for the ‘Immram’ Category

Imagine the Dagda and Lugh and Ogma journeying across Ireland to find the oak of two blossoms. To regain their sovereignty. The harp. The music of the land.

They had no insurance. There was no store. They could not just make a new one. They had to regain their sovereignty. The music of the land.

High stakes. Life or death.

We  are on that same journey.

Journeying through time. Through our souls, we are journeying to recapture the harp, the music of the land from the Fomorians. We are journeying to recapture our sovereignty from ourselves.

High stakes.
Life or death.
Up to you.

Sometimes, in my mind, the gift of voice and word of Ogma are still powerful. Sometimes, he tells me the story:

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There is an island where there is a spear-burning river that keeps us away from the calves. Such a river need not be deep to protect the calves. Go, dip your spear in that shallow river and watch. Even small things can weigh heavy here. The calves of this island are calves, but appear to our young eyes to be great and magnificent oxen. Yet they are calves. The river is shallow. The herdsman on this island is huge.

Pay heed to the herdsman.

Don’t cross the burning river.

Even small meals must prepared. The branch must be given time to blossom the nourishing apples. The calf cannot will itself to grow. The mothers of the calves, we learn, are on the other side of this island. We must travel to the other side of the island. We must leave the calves and travel to the mothers on the other side of the island.

Pay heed to the herdsman.

Don’t cross the burning river.
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But so that I may reveal
The secret of this island
to you
inquire of me.

-The Woman of the Fortress

Do not be alarmed.

Most of us in the western world today are in trouble even before we are in trouble. We are in trouble because of the greatest secret in our society. The greatest secret for most of us in the western world is simply “who am I?” This secret causes most of the problems we have in our world.

When we are raided, this trouble is in trouble. And that is the trouble.

Put away blissful ignorance.

Put away the safety of religion. Put away petty obsessions and reckless addictions. Forget the hiding places you have sought out and furnished comfortably over the years.

It is time to put away blissful ignorance and come out of hiding.

With no more blissful ignorance, we can no longer act as if we are not in trouble. We can no longer hide. We know we are in trouble.

This, then, is our ordeal.

The beast on this island is turning, revolving. Its skin rotates around its bones. Its bones churn around within its skin.

Do not be alarmed.
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To find the beginning of the birthing, we must be willing to continue, we must be willing to sail on to the next island. It is there that we find a door with a valve.

The valve turned by willingness.

The valve opened by willingness will allow the nourishing salmon from the sea into the house.

Consider the wisdom of the salmon. Consider our wisdom that blinded us and deafened us to the riders and their races. Consider our wisdom that created giant red ants and hound footed horses to devour us.

Consider the wisdom of the salmon.

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So now, let us prepare our boats and let us set out to sea. It is time for us to leave. But what am I saying? It is time for me to leave. It is time for you to leave. This journey must be taken alone. We are our own crew. Our entire Self must accompany us. We must undertake this journey fully as our Self with all parts. No more. No less. Be aware: any part that we take into our crew that is not truly part of our Self, will not return.

This is the journey to the depths. There is no safety.

We must sail the sea of glass. The sea of clarity. The sea of honesty. The journey to the depths demands clarity. Demands honesty. No easy thing. We cannot hide from our Self behind parts not of our Self. The journey to the depths will be one of cleansing.

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But for now we are in trouble. We have been raided. We are dead. We find ourselves in the paradoxical moment that is both death and birth.

Do we need a book of the dead?
Do we need a book of the living?
Could the book of the dead also be the book of the living?

This great book could show us the way into life within death, death within life. What wonders await us?

What perils?

Is there such a book? Is there a book of the living and of the dead, or should we leave the dead to the dead and seek a new way of living? A way of living that arises out of the death. Where is the way to move from this terrible moment where we are not dead yet we do not live, where we have perished, and have been birthed? Is there such a book to show us the way out of this terrible moment?

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