Monthly Archives: February 2010

Preparing for 2012

Today yet another person phoned asking  for my take on 2012 and rather than go into it I blithely promised a post on the subject. So here it is.

First of all nobody knows exactly what’s going to happen, however good the channelling seems to be. A lot of people are making money on the circuit stirring up excitement on the subject and the internet is groaning with fanciful theories and complex analyses. But the truth is that what is going to happen is still unknown. What is known is something is set to change, big time, the way we think, the way we see and the way we love.

First of all nothing is what it seems. But I think you’ll agree that something is blowing in on the wind. We simply can’t go on like this. We need arrows to point the way and the Mayan calendar is as good a place to start as any. For according to the Mayan calendar a new cycle begins with a resonant event. And a new cycle is predicted to happen at 11.11 gmt on 23rd December 2012, when a rare galactic alignment will take place in the heavens, opening the possibility of catastrophic change. Whatever this event is,  it will have a profound influence on human consciousness and will provide the long anticipated shift into a more pleasant state of being. We are here on earth at this time because we have chosen to participate in this event. We are already experiencing the chaos that precedes great events.There have been profound, powerful, sublime warnings. Those of us who have heeded them live love and know that cycles are repeating. We already know the story and this time we will know it. Great things happen against greater resistance. We recognise the resistance all around but what can we do to prepare for the change?

We can quietly go about our days raising our consciousness by practising love in its truest form. We can work at releasing the negatives from our lives. We can raise our frequency with kindness in thought, word and deed. We can practise being the best that we can be. Then when the much anticipated event takes place we will survive the pressure against the dense physical. When cells become crystalline they will be in tune with what is to come. See the work of Masaru Emoto if you don’t know what this means. There is going to be a window of opportunity for the influx of higher energy. This window is created by the rare conjunction of the winter solstice sun in the dark rift of the Milky Way with the crossing point of the galactic equator and the ecliptic path of the sun. It will release the activity of Solar Cycle 24 which has already started its build up. When this cycle gets going we can expect fireworks. Our entry point to the rift, heart centre of the Milky Way is through Sagittarius at which point the serpent of light eats its tail creating an ouroboros. The winter solstice sun will be aligned in the serpent’s mouth on 21.12.2012.

Most of all we need to learn to see the Big Picture. We are being shown a great deal in crop formations as this one at Beckhampton August 08 shows(photo Steve Alexander). All we need to get from here to where we’re going is an open mind, a sense of the mythological power of symbol and a desire to work with light rather than darkness. What a time to be alive!

Paradox

Ever since I realised that the world is orchestrated into a matrix my brain will never accommodate, I’ve been able to let go and stop living by numbers.

Remember those paint sets that we got from aunties at Christmas? Where the section numbered 6 would be (say) red and the number 8 yellow and the 10 green and so on and all we had to do was match the paint to the number and do as we were told, then pingo, at the end of a wet afternoon we’ve got a really bad but recognisable image of Constable’s Hay Wain? Well that’s not how I do Life now. Today it’s all Jackson Pollock.

The designer Marti Guixe says, ‘luxury means not having to follow convention and having the freedom to have one’s own system and make one’s own rituals.’ I couldn’t agree more. As I grow older, I grow healthier and happier, following the Big Beat. This is the paradoxof my life and the luxury in my living. I have won the battle for my freedom and I choose to take control of my health and not just turn it over to modern allopathic medicine, with its scattergun approach to illness and disease.

In health matters I am a consumer and I try to make my choices in an informed way, weighing up the physical and spiritual risks and benefits. Nature may paint by numbers but I do not. As the scale is so vast and complex, I reckon it’s a better bet to adjust the settings and let my body take care of what it was created to do. Allopathic drugs wage a campaign of cellular terrorism in the human organism. I believe, I trust, I relax in the knowledge that  if I leave them alone, consciousness and healing work hand in glove for my benefit.

In its immune system my body understands what is’ me’ and what is ‘not me’. It is this internal biological interpretation of Allie that keeps me well. My immune response is individualised for ME. Anything that hampers this sure and swift communication system is not welcome in my world,especially drugs.  Drugs target symptoms but I know that when things go wrong ,it is at a deeper level than symptoms. Only homeopathy goes deeper and allows my body to gently heal itself. It is not easy to maintain this stance when the world and its aunty are declaring in loud voices that it can’t work because the double blind tests tell them so. No test can possibly be devised to register the subtlety with which homeopathy works. If the results are engineered by belief, then I am happy to say I’m a believer, as homeopathy always works for me, often dramatically so.

I hope that one day we will as a species speak the vowels and consonants of cosmic intelligence. In the meantime I will continue to be an independent thinker, free from the deadening effects of materialism and hopefully out of the reach of allopathy. In the process I am becoming master of myself.  All my bodies, the one that allopathy treats and the others too, are well taken care of.  In my happiness and freedom I retain the soul that modern medicine is intent on destroying. I am a walking universe and one day I trust I will live in a world spoken into being by free individualised humans. But first there is work to do.

The Sweet Smell of Yearning

Loss,yearning,seduction,allure; occasionally someone captures the essence of these so exquisitely that I can read only a little, before becoming overwhelmed in the quicksands of desire. Michael Bywater does it for me. He’s been my literary journeyman for a while and often on a bleak winter afternoon I gaze out on the world and imagine what it would be like to have such a man in my life. Anyone who manages successfully to tuck alchemy, love, the Nicene Creed and the Higgs’s Boson into one sentence is my sort of guy. Grasping the complexity of modern life in a manly way, like Brian Eno, Bywater charts the power of the pause and monitors the meaning of cyberspace, a place where I now dwell, not known but potentially knowable.

Would we ever make it as a partnership? A part of me knows that in the flesh he couldn’t fulfil the promise of his writing. A malcontent and obsessive, edgy and always wanting more, he might be good only for reading me poetry in bed. No, we wordsmiths are at our best when running away from the experience of what we are hellbent on capturing in words. We are the eternally unavailable, locked in cages of our own desire, fashioning keys out of spun letters and evanescent yearning. But the feeling, oh the feeling.

Last night I watched the Preston Sturges film The Lady Eve with Henry Fonda and Barbara Stanwyck. It’s a 1941 screwball comedy with a seduction scene so pungent and erotic it had my toes curling. Returning from a year in the Amazon the rich, shy and beautiful Fonda, along with his prize snake, having  hitched a ride on a cruise ship, falls prey to the biggest mamba of them all, Stanwyck. In the scene where she cleverly manipulates him past  dozens of panting dames into her cabin, nothing happens, except the camera’s capture of the essence of desire. In the scene pictured above Fonda, mesmerised by her perfume and dizzy with desire, is oh so slowly(and this is the erotic charge) hooked and spun and pulled in, all the time  his beautiful features running the gamut from bliss to pain and back again. Watch it- it’s a masterclass in the fine art of camera as seducer.

I know this is a scene that Bywater would appreciate for he, like me, is vulnerable to the pull of the ephemeral but it occurs to me that two obsessives do not Nirvana make,. Without a camera to register meaning  it could be downright dangerous. Best meet him in the pages of his book Lost Worlds (ISBN 1-86297-798-3) where we can pool our losses in the space between his words and my imagination.

For I’ve learned that nostalgia, like sentimentality, is but tinsel to the silver of real. I’ve grown up with the silver screen measuring my life in moments lost between the lines, caught between a chord and its resolution.Only now I know where the line is drawn.  Best keep Bywater on the page. In real life , between the tears and the tantrums, we’d fight like ferrets.

Small Miracles

In my world because I am on the look out for miracles they always come. The feeling that I am connected to some power beyond my everyday comprehension is important for my health and happiness. I work on this in all sorts of ways. These are extraordinary times to be alive, for we are moving exponentially towards a changing point, the turn in the history of time that is going to alter our perception and give us global awareness that we’ve never had before.

It is a time to search out and anchor oneself within groups. As any teenager will tell you, group energy is powerful. It is as if we are built to follow the power rule. If we are five for example,  the energy we will end up processing will be 5 to the power of five- that is 5times5times5times5times5 which is huge. This  is what is needed if we are not going to be blown off course in the turbulent waters ahead.

There is much to distract the pilgrim on the road today what with machines to operate and people to navigate around, it is hard work  staying focused in the now, the only place where we can find members of our soul group. It is in groups that the wherewithall is found to expand, refine and lighten one’s energy. At this time it is best to travel light; dress for a quick getaway; have a bag packed ready for all eventualities, both physical and metaphorical. This is the time to discharge unnecessary items that might hold one back or down, including people. What matters now is meaning not gathering of stuff. The days of materialism are numbered; the world is growing ugly with stuff.

In this time of viral networking it is a good idea to be in touch with the movements of one’s heart and to use the past as a springboard and not a comfort blanket. With this in mind I am glad that my relationship with Giles came to a neat end. I sent him flowers and a thank you card. Relationships are like that now-a means of fast tracking growth and lightening. As my New York friend Dizzy says, the old partners- for- life concept is outmoded, unless by lucky chance the two people develop in parallel. We haven’t time for what Aunty Mu calls hook and eye relationships. They have to go to make space literally for the new, the open, the outward going. Learning to surf the unknown is the great youthing device. Learning to let go is the single most important lesson I have ever learned. It is both the simplest and the hardest, as it involves a high degree of trust-mainly in oneself and the messages coming constantly from the solar plexus.

Intimate relationships are miracles, though I sometimes think I am not cut out for them. They tend to burn my boundaries, leaving me feeling uncontained. But I am open to the future as there are no closed doors in my life. In fact I am ready to receive miracles.

So here one comes. At my age it is difficult to attract the attention of the male. On the whole they are not as subtle as women. To grab their attention a woman has simply to be willing to don the usual semiotic signifiers; suspender belt, stockings, basque, black PVC rainwear or anything in the latex line. Since I stopped doing this I’ve become increasingly invisible. Until yesterday that is, when I had an encounter in the woods on the outskirts of town. The sun was shining and the universe was smiling through the crisp February air as a handsome man came walking his dog along the path towards me. I’ve seen him before and noted his fine catlike gait. Yesterday we stopped and talked. We exchanged names and shook hands. We both knew that something had taken place between us. I don’t know what this means or where it will lead. It was just one of those moments of potentiality that happen rarely and are therefore precious. Spring is coming and the earth is awakening. What passed between us was the whisper of desire. It may or may not be acted upon but it left me with a sense of joy at the possibilities inherent in the human condition and an awareness of the many small miracles mapping my days.

Tu es un avec le Tout

Back from a couple of nights in London. How I used to love London and how crowded it has become! Crossing the centre in the 38 bus from Victoria to Dor’s doorstep, I was astonished at the crowds around Picadilly. Went to the Van Gogh at the Royal Academy and braved the crowds. As a member Dor has access to the member’s room – always a treat and I could have a good gawp at what my peers are wearing. The answer is bland, sparrow colours and necklaces and shawls, like me. But where are the men in fedoras? After 60 many of them can’t get out any more, so rich a life have they led. We enjoyed sharing a huge fricatta and a muesli bar with Redbush- we intend to be mobile for a good few years yet; so much to see, so much to do.

The Van Gogh was touching, what with the asylum and the love for Theo and the paint coming off the canvas so erect it caught the light on all sides. I also enjoyed the British Museum, a place that makes me dizzy with its treasures and timelines. This time I got the map and headed purposefully for the Isle of Lewis chess set and found it! All those cute Norwegian whalebone clerics with their naughty eyes and vivid expressions. Adorable.Especially the queen.I imagined their journey from Norway across the boiling seas to Lewis and wondered at the why?

I like serendipitous encounters, be they with people, things or ideas and this trip was full of them. Coming back on the coach I ran a mental collage of encounters, including the visit to The Japanese Shop in Picadilly (crowds and icy rain) where I bought a nosehair- trimming scissors that works. Fancy that. I always thought the Japanese such a hair free race. Another act of heroic generosity perhaps? And recalled a booklet lying idly on a surface under the impressive Buckyball roof of the British Museum. It was a French catalogue of gifts and there were the words of my old teacher Masaru Emoto. Deep thoughts always seem even more profound in French, don’t you think?

“L’eau reflete le fait que nous sommes en relation avec tout. Elle dit:-“Souviens-toi, tu es un avec le Tout-et ceci est l ‘information la plus importante.”

Words that I tried to keep in mind as I struggled to blank out the incessant chatter of the young girl in the seat in front of me on the coach. After three hours (friday traffic and road works) I was ready to pull her hair out by the roots. Have you noticed how the young have become so speedy? They talk fast and pepper their sentences with ‘like’. It’s the latest tic and  each ‘like’  is a pinprick to my soul.

I am one with the All I kept saying to myself as I tried unsuccessfully to erase her voice with Elvis and The Travelling Wilburys on my Shuffle. This morning I am grateful to be back in the peaceful Warren. I like the buzz of London a lot more when I have left it behind.

The Sieve of Eratosthenes

What with pressing the wrong button on the last post and delivering it incomplete and going away to London for a couple of days tomorrow, I’d better nip in and fill this window of opportunity with my latest excitement concerning prime numbers. It was Stan who introduced me to the idea of the Sieve of Eratosthenes on a walk and I came home and tried it out and it worked-up to 100 anyway; I didn’t have time to take it any higher and anyway the excitement was giving me a headache.

Circle the remaining numbers and you have the primes up to 100. Why don’t they teach maths through wonder in schools? For notice it is the prime numbers 2,3,5 and 7 that you use to eradicate all non primes 1-100. Isn’t that amazing?

What you do is map out a grid 1-10 ten times giving you numbers 1-100. Starting with 2 you cross out every second number, then go to three and cross out every third number. Ditto 5 and every fifth number. Ditto seven and every seventh number.

Can you invert the previous two paragraphs because something strange is happening to my editing system and I haven’t time to retype? Thank you.

I’ve always found the primes very soothing numbers and I’m not alone in this. Maybe Kitty the counsellor was right when she suggested that I had a toe on the high functioning end of the autistic spectrum. Certainly I get very itchy in supermarkets, hate doing anything under fluorescent lights and suffer sensory overload when out with too many people in noisy restaurants.

In fact the real world is often too much for me and then I move into the world of numbers which I find safe and steady. I feel happy finding that there is an incomprehensible but nevertheless evident mesh holding it all in place and that numbers map that mesh.

I once wrote a book about the mysterious covalency of water and the fact that it holds the living world together. I called the book Holding Together, a title that referred to the 8th trigram of the I Ching. My editor didn’t like the title and it was changed but as the book couldn’t find a publisher it languishes in the second drawer of my desk, along with the others, while I get on exploring further the underpinnings of nature. The point I’m making here is that the primes indicate something really important about the way the world is made. They map a code. As Galileo said ‘the book of nature is written in mathematics’ and the fact that mathematics is not something created by the human mind is deeply comforting to me. There is a scaffold on which the prime numbers are built. It is 1+2+3=6. This underpins the grammar of form in some way and both bees and quarks dance the pattern of the language it forms. Wow

You can Count on Numbers

I have known Stan for some time. I met him in the park when he was walking his dog, Elvis, and we hit it off straight away. We meet up every so often and go to concerts or lectures at the University. It is the ideal relationship, unbedevilled by consummation. I know that Stan is up for more but I am not. Why spoil a perfectly good friendship with a fumble that might or might not do the trick? Anyway I think Stan is a wanker, he’s got that look about him.  Many men these days see masterbation as a kind of holiday, a chance to let go without having to answer for it. I leave him to it. Sex is something  Stan and I don’t discuss.

Stan and I share a sense of proportion that borders on the OCD and a profound interest in the way numbers underpin what we blithely call reality. Stan in an eminent scientist or was until he retired. He was even offered a knighthood for the work he did on the connection between alcohol and breast cancer but he refused it in his grumpy left-wing way. I like that. He’s a man of integrity is Stan, for all his strange ways.

When we are together he talks about things that make my head spin. I often wish I could record our conversations as he patiently explains the theory of multiple universes and the shortcomings of the Cartesian co-ordinates. Unusually for such an eminent scientist, Stan is also, like me, a liberal in the ancient sense of the word. We are both into number, geometry, music and cosmology and the links between them. As he says they all speak the simple language that maps our universe. We both love the feeling that revelation brings. Together on our walks we often draw in what Stan calls ‘the shadow of reality’, which highlights with startling clarity the invisible patterns in the air that can be translated into something meaningful. As Stan says ‘you can count on numbers!'( to be continued)