Some of you have already received this text – my apologies for the duplication. This is its ‘official’ publication….
When I left Montreal for Europe in the spring of 2011, I had a vague impression of once again being called to clear and activate significant sites as well as the DNA of specific individuals, both in the interest of facilitating the reemergence of the Divine Feminine on the planet. What I had not expected was the extent to which I would have spread out before me with excruciating clarity, like entrails before a soothsayer, the warp and weft of the male experience in the world.
It began the evening of my arrival in England when Catherine Gaze placed an unwieldy package across my lap, telling me that it contained 2 swords, male and female in energies, that had been ritually bound together. I felt a distinct malaise while holding them, so we opened up the package to find the swords laid hilt to hilt – in competition, in a sense – rather than complementarily, hilt to tip. As well, the sword that had been understood to be the masculine one was actually the feminine, and vice versa. We separated them and cleaned them thoroughly, right down to their tarnished points.
The next evening we took both swords to do ritual in the longbarrow behind Catherine’s home near Bath, and had the first indication of the work that would continue throughout this trip. It was the night of the full moon in Libra, and our understanding was to do ritual based in the Sacred Marriage – the balance between the masculine and feminine principles, honouring the relationship between them…. I was surprised to find myself raising the masculine sword with both hands and invoking a healing of its energy – a renewed dignity and integrity of purpose – before we were able to continue. The sword surged with the energies that flowed through my body; when I laid it at the entrance to the barrow, a ray of light + energy flowed from it to the other, feminine sword deep within the barrow, “reviving” her – the energy from the second sword then illuminated the entire mound. We’d found ourselves in the middle of a fairy-tale: Sleeping Beauty awoke and smiled!
From Catherine in England, I traveled to Holland, where the thread was picked up with Agnes Van de Beek in Amsterdam as we worked to lift and heal the energies of the whaling industry and of a former SS headquarters, then again with an author, visionary and teacher who has been working for years with the Divine Feminine. He was setting off soon to Jericho to do a Peace Walk, bringing the feminine energies of this city that resonates with the Shekhinah (the feminine aspect of the Divine), to the presently male-dominated Holy City of Jerusalem. There was an uneasiness and danger to this mission – the flotilla of ships attempting to break the Israeli embargo and bring supplies into Gaza was due to arrive at the same time, and a 3rd Intifada had been called – the potential for violent confrontation seemed very high.
So many conscious men feel the necessity of somehow paying for or righting the wrongs of their antecedents; they charge off to fight for the Honour of the Earth – the Divine Mother – fueled by guilt and shame. I felt that this sensitive and well-intentioned person, who is also part Jewish, was so enmired in guilt that he might attract violence to himself, almost as punishment. Helping release this from his body was part of the work we did together….
During the course of the session with him, a remarkable teaching came through.I saw the biblical account[i] of Abram and Sarai traveling through hostile territories, and Abram giving his wife away as his sister to the pharaoh (a white lie: she was his half-sister – as well as his wife), in exchange for livestock and safe passage. Somehow Abram gets out of the biblical discourse on this topic unscathed, while Abimelech, the unwitting pharaoh, and his entire family are struck with infertility, only to be healed once, as instructed by God in a dream, he returns Sarai to her husband. Later, God makes a covenant with Abram and his descendents that is sealed in the flesh as the brit milah, or ritual male circumcision, and their names are changed to Abraham and Sarah.
To cut off part of a baby’s body has always seemed barbaric to me, yet as this teaching came in a flash while I was describing how a wounded area of the body heals, I understood a potential logic to the ritual. Anyone of us who is physically hurt will pull the energy out of the wounded region as a reflex, in shock. We must apply our awareness to later reappropriating this part of the body, consciously “making it ours” once again. I felt the unevolved nature of the male energy represented in this story as brute force and power struggles, with the feminine dishonoured and traded as chattel. When one is circumcised, the energy is pulled up out of the penis and can only be accessed once again through a conscious effort – the purely animal power of male sexuality can then become infused with awareness, and transformed….It was at least an interesting conjecture….
In Leiden, the evening before leaving Holland for Scotland with my co-crazy, Judith Moore, we sat in a café at the edge of the startlingly polluted North Sea while Hans Konstapel [ii] – mathematician, physicist, philosopher and mystic – explained the triskelion[iii] as an accurate portrayal of the portals that conduct from one layer of the fractal hologram of reality to the next, and confirmed the niggling feeling I had that there was a disturbance of some kind in the fabric of space-time somewhere in the area of northern Scotland – I felt that this was the Thing that was beckoning us to it…. Hans and his partner, Wilma, were generous with their time and wisdom and understandably proud of the accomplishments engendered through the University of Leiden – especially, for Hans, the Institute of Physics (think: Albert Einstein and Enrico Fermi). For me, the visit with Wizard Hans represented the compassionate wielding of the sword of Intellect that is embodied by the Dalai Lama and invoked by his chant, “Om Mani Padme Hum”….
Catherine met Judith and me in Edinburgh with her trusty van, “Jasper”. Our first task was to visit the church where Judith’s grandparents had been married. The couple had left immediately after their wedding for the States and none of the family had yet returned to Scotland, so there was a sense of ceremony to the undertaking and again a resonance with the theme of Sacred Marriage. Finding the church closed at first, we crossed the street to a domed building (suitably named ”The Dome”) that announced itself as a restaurant but clearly had experienced other incarnations[iv], where Judith treated us to a sumptuous feast in honour of the yet-uncelebrated newly-wed grandparents…. The room had a restrained opulence; I was interested to note the predominance of hexagonal and octagonal forms in the design and architecture, as well as stained glass windows featuring caducei with the snakes’ heads replaced by those of eagles. We were not surprised to learn that this had once been the Commercial Bank of Scotland, but only later did I discover that it had started out being built as the Hall of the College of Physicians (until the physicians ran out of money and the bankers took it over!) making more sense of the nod to Asclepius.
I had an image-sensation of raw resources being drawn from the land with sweat and toil – the wool and meat and ore, the tall forests razed and left even now as barren moors – and transformed into bank accounts, manipulated by manicured hands. We crossed the street again to the Church of St. Andrew and St. George, “a decent, handsome church”, Presbyterian in its austerity but also alive with a feeling of community[v]. We once again had moved from a place of male energy to a celebration of sacred union – Judith left a beautiful bouquet of white flowers to honour the marriage of her grandparents and the lineage they founded.
Soon after, we hopped into Jasper and headed north, needing to make it to our next destination in the far reaches of Scotland by that evening. We had reserved rooms at a B and B at the end of the Rose Line[vi], on the tip of mainland Scotland, that belongs to an acquaintance of Judith’s. An old manor house that was not yet quite finished being renovated, we were to be the first visitors. All of us were deeply affected by the bloody history of the land as we passed through it – flashes of ancient and newer battles malingered in glens and lay in ambush for our minds amidst the pastel-tinted harshness of the countryside. We toned, prayed and wept our way through Scotland, arriving after nightfall at Olrig House, near Castleton, Caithness.
I had the queerest sensation for hours before we actually arrived that we were going to the former home of my friend Niven Sinclair – I had chills and dizziness – usual signs that Something was Up. It turned out that the original house was built by Sinclairs in the early 18th century, but Niven had never been there[vii]. The discomfiting sensations did not go away, however….
The house was definitely “spooked” – Andrew, the young caretaker, handyman and gentle host who welcomed and cared for us recounted several nerve-wracking experiences with its disembodied inhabitants. We didn’t feel any negative intentions – just a dense presence. It was only as we were going to sleep that I remembered that the next day was Easter Sunday…After a dream-filled night, I felt that I had been awakened as I jumped out of bed the next morning and went to the window to meditate with the Easter sunrise. I was unprepared for the intensity of emotion that overcame me – deep gratitude, the feeling of having been called through space and time to this place for this very moment, a feeling of accomplishing something that had taken lifetimes to complete….I felt the Sun/Son reborn – the masculine energy renewed…and somehow it had something to do with the Sinclairs. I was called outside, where I cleared and smudged the land and the outbuildings, then I went into the house, to every room and closet, and chanted and smudged until the space felt free. My intention was to help release energies that had become entangled in this dimension for whatever reason – I felt a whoosh, and a lightening of the atmosphere, especially in the attic and the library, as I finished with each space. When I came back down to join the others, I was very shaky and emotional without really understanding why.
It turned out that Judith had also been awakened before sunrise to walk the land.She channeled that I in particular had made a covenant – had sworn an oath – to return through space-time and in some way heal the Sinclair lineage – that Judith, Catherine and myself were the particular alchemy required for this task. I was aware of great controversy among senior members of the clan, and of a general reputation for Sinclairs to harbour amongst them all manner and mien of rakes, rogues and ruffians. I felt that what had been done this morning was only part of what we were being called to do… Catherine sounded two gongs (a Wind Sun gong[viii], and a planetary Jupiter gong[ix],[x]) at the entrance to the house; we sent the vibration with our intention, flowing from this point along the whole length of the Rose Line, clearing …clearing….
Great resistance seemed to arise at this point; conflict erupted among the three of us. It felt as if all of a sudden we had been Seen and obstacles strewn in our path. The former partner of the present owner of Olrig House arrived to collect the last of his belongings – there was anger and fear in the air. A visiting friend recounted how she and her daughter had lived in Thurso, the traditional seat of the Sinclairs, and that they felt it was a place of darkness. Both of them have nightmares when they are there – her daughter, a recurring one of being chased by werewolves who have been set on her by Freemasons (!), with obstacles rising out of the earth to block her as she runs. We managed to focus on the Love overlighting our way and the importance of continuing this journey and our work together, and went out to feast on possibly the best traditional Easter meal I have ever had, in the hotel down in Castleton….
Our next step was to the Orkney Islands. I have elsewhere described the first part of this journey and our experience at the Tomb of the Eagles (see Mindscape magazine, Vol.4, and this blog). Throughout our travels on the Orkneys, I had a sense that we were doing essential work, reawakening ancient temples and energy meridians, but the Sinclair thread seemed to have been dropped – a surprise to me, as the Sinclairs had held the jarldom of the Orkneys, and it was a surname we saw everywhere as we traveled. We did learn that “The Good Sinclairs are gems – you’d never find finer; the Other Sinclairs are just plain wicked”. Examples were given of the lives and characters of each strain, and they were indeed startling in their polar opposition.
A place that called strongly to each of us was Eynhallow Island – I thought perhaps the distortion in space-time that we were searching for would be found there. We drove far to get to it, to discover that we couldn’t set foot on the island – it is a bird sanctuary and access is allowed on only one day of the year. We felt a strong Presence emanating from it without understanding exactly what it was, though we read that the remains of a monastery can still be seen there. We did ceremony then left, the mystery unsolved. I tucked it away in a corner of my mind.
Almost a month later, I visited Niven Sinclair at his home in Surrey and recounted my story. “Well, let me tell you what you might not know about Eynhallow” he began, with a sparkle in his eye….
It seems that in 1154, a Henri Sinclair took orders under the name of Abbot Laurence to establish a Cistercian monastery on Eynhallow, an important point on a complex grid system of holy sites. The monastic community thus founded would be charged with the protection and preservation of a precious sacred relic. When yet another Henry Sinclair was preparing to set sail at the end of the 14th century, he apparently stopped at Eynhallow to gather the relic and take it with him. His destination and purpose? The founding of the New Jerusalem…in North America !
Our days began before sunrise and ended long past dark, with Catherine driving, guiding us with intuition and tenacity, Judith channeling and myself in a constantly altered state as we encountered one magnificent treasure after another.
When we got on the ferry to cross back to the mainland, this time to Thurso, the dizziness and floating fear that I’d begun to recognize as signals of approaching interdimensional work began creeping into me once again…. We all felt that we had to go to the Sinclair castle, and that we were walking into something very big and rather nasty. We approached by the public beach – not a sweet sitting and bathing sort of place, it felt somehow …industrial. People hurried their dogs past with heads bowed below a heavy grey sky…. Before us as we navigated the piles of seaweed and rubbish was a fortress wall and one tall, crumbling tower emblazoned with Danger signs. Indeed.
I had the sensation of falling, then felt and saw myself being pushed down a steep flight of stairs in the tower to my death. What surprised me was that this was an image-sensation that used to haunt me as a child. A faded terror rose inside me…I was drawn to a spot in the angle of the tower and the wall and, placing my back against the stone, I – this incarnation – dissolved. I have a vague recollection of Judith arriving and the two of us walking into a hall where there was a book from which she read. The Sinclair clan had had a destiny and a covenant that some had wished to destroy – that of founding the New Jerusalem. A rupture had been manufactured in the lineage to distort and dilute it. I saw the richness of the teachings of Rosslyn Chapel, and then the Freemasons arising from it, leaving in two long files. I turned and found there was a sword in my hands again, and that I stood before an assembly of armour-clad men. As they approached me one by one, I blessed each with the sword, knowing that as I was doing so they were being cleansed and restored to their original integrity and purpose. They were 33 in number – I felt weary as the ceremony came to an end.
Slowly the sun called me back as it broke through the clouds and warmed my tears….
We continued on then with some sense of urgency – a feeling of being watched – along the beach in front of the inhabited part of the property where the present Sinclair chief resides and through an archway into an area of walled gardens and paddocks behind the castle. A large mound that felt like a tumulus loomed to the side of us… Judith set out around the gardens taking photographs while Catherine and I walked through what felt like a magic tunnel of foliage, with an elegant white horse looking at us over a gate at the end of it. In the middle of the path as we approached was the body of a large black bird. This image is burned into my mind – the symbolism was so potent and yet it eludes me to this day. We buried the bird as best we could, leaving a blessing-offering for it….
The three of us came back together and finished walking all the way around the extensive grounds – somehow this was important. We stopped at the Masonic Hall, did a clearing ceremony, and with a collective sigh of relief, left Thurso behind us….
On our way back south, we respectfully passed the statute called The Emigrants in Helmsdale commemorating the agony of the Clearances[xi] – each one of us has Scottish blood and we could not be left untouched. To our astonishment, further along in Golspie we learned that the huge phallic monument on the hill dominating the entire landscape was in honour of the fellow responsible for the most notorious of the evictions – George Granville Leveson-Gower, the first Duke of Sutherland.[xii] Why, I asked a random woman, was this villain still up there? My question elicited grumbling anger from several other women within earshot,” He shouldn’t be there!” “It’s time he come down from there!” “You canna call him a hero..!”
I felt that I was being clearly taught that it is not enough for us to strengthen and empower women – we must also heal our notions of masculinity so that the Divine Couple, symbols of the duality of our present world, may stand side by side in balance and harmony.
South we travelled, paying homage to the sacred mountain of Schiehallion and the Fortingall Yew, one of the elder beings on the planet, on our way. Through the magic of Glen Lyon we made our way to Edinburgh so I could catch my plane for Munich and the three of us continue on our separate Paths.
It was the day of the Royal Wedding – a celebration of the Sacred Marriage…and so another circle turned.
[ii] http://hans.wyrdweb.eu
[iii] The triskelion is the Celtic symbol of the triple spiral. I leave you to do your own research on this….
[vi] A Rose Line used to describe any line of longitude connecting the northern and southernmost tips of the world, but The Roseline was a reference point – the line by which all other lines were measured, as the Greenwich prime meridian is now. This line was drawn through Paris and extends northward through Great Britain, encompassing many important energy nodes on its way.
[viii] http://www.gongs-unlimited.com/paistesungong.html
[ix] http://www.gongs-unlimited.com/pajugo.html
[x] http://www.paiste.com/e/about_history.php?menuid=29
[xi] http://www.helmsdale.org/emigrants-statue.html
