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Old Dragon Breath

May this be for the benefit of and aid to all beings seeking, consciously or not, and praising in, Earth/Divine Mother, and in the Earth as the Great Guide in this humble journey that we share.

Yesterday I visited the Great Oak of Brighstone Grove. I had been called to visit for days previous. The ancestors had directed all happenings in this past week to be of right sort to allow for such a pilgrimage to be of the deepest sort.

I traversed by motorised scooter to the vicinity of the Sacred Grove. This scooter had rejected starting on Thursday evening, a cold and misty evening in Newport with a lot of uncomfortable energy around that made my long wait for alternative transport out of the town a fairly difficult experience. It had then also not started on Friday night when I moved it to another parking space. Then yesterday, at about 12.30pm, it started first ‘kick’, and drove me without problem to Brighstone. The feeling of pilgrimage was strongly within me.

I had arranged to be at a meeting in Freshwater at 1pm, and contacted the hosts that I would be late, for I needed to pilgrimage first to the Great Oak.

I spent just a few minutes by the Great tree, when my head came in and I realised I had to really make move for Freshwater for this meeting. I left the tree, and returned to the scooter. It failed to start first time, and proceeded to reject every attempt to kick-start. I tried to start it for about 45 minutes, having a few different people coming to offer help and support. It took me 45 minutes to realise that I was supposed to be on pilgrimage here, and that pilgrimage is timeless. Everything else in regards to worldly matters is sorted out so that the pilgrimage is allowed to happen.

And I returned to the Great Oak.

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...mangala murthi murya!

I sat for a long time on my knees, in prayer/meditation. Surrendering. I had had a challenging last week, and needed this healing reconnection with my ancestral Guides and Gurus.

I came out of sitting with a completely numb right leg, and extended it and laid down and centralised myself on my breathing. Normally the reconnection of the blood stream is uncomfortable and somewhat painful. But this was not. This was a powerful reconnection, as more and more I sunk into the ground and the magnificent energy of protection in this sacred space.

I went into another world. A world between the dream and lucid worlds. Almost like akin to lucid dreaming. And there were different beings visiting me, and offering guidance and support. Beings that let me know that they had always been with me, and now I could see them as they are, I’d found that stillness in place, I could recognise their presence. Sacred feminine energies. Baba and Saint Francis. The formless Guru. The Earth energies, in all plentifulness. The Ether, the Air, the Cosmos.

All the while, I felt vibrational energy within the body that I carry, laid there on the forest floor, shaking the body subtly and intricately. I felt vibrations becoming stronger and more vibrant in the belly and the heart areas. I felt sufferings I’d been carrying for other entities and souls being lifted and transcended. A magnificent lightness, and softening of all of my experiential consciousness.

I was in deep commune with an Earth Spirit that upheld great wisdom and spiritual magnitude.

I was given the opportunity to ask questions that I craved answers for. I found myself having just two that I truly longed for help with. And both relate to my position in worldly happenings.

Should I pursue a monastic life next year? What of becoming a father?

You are already living by monastic discipline and consciousness. There will be no worldly decision that will affect your living as a monk. But you can decide to keep living as a monk or not.
The moment of fathering a child will be the happiest possible experience in life. There is no greater sense of happiness than that.
But there is no right or wrong answer. You will live your karma/path the same regardless of if you are a monk or not, whether or not you father a child. We (the ancestors/Gurus) will be with you regardless of what your worldly decision will be.

I then offered, should the scooter get started for my departure, that I should drive via St Catherine’s and Ventnor, as this would be good for the energy.

There was a rustle of people coming, and a persistent whistle, as communicating with me. I opened my eyes and tilted my head back, and saw Blair and Maitri standing in loving awareness. They were both wary of my physical well-being, and I guess I must have shown signs of being quite in-between worlds.

I thanked the Blessed Grove for hosting this enlightening gathering of between-worlds, shared in some beautiful time with Blair and Maitri, and we made our way to the scooter, bidding farewell until the next time to the Great Oak.

The scooter started on the first kick-start, which I laughed a lot about and mentioned about the ridiculousness of the situation. The ancestors had granted my leaving. Of course I wasn’t allowed to leave earlier when such great souls had made long journeys to meet with me.

I drove the chilly but highly charged route up to St Catherine’s and around to Ventnor, Shanklin, Sandown and back to my base at Brading. Much of the journey I was feeling nauseous but surrendered into the arms of Lord Shiva. What else. What else.
I sung devotional songs to Lord Shiva for the whole journey, understanding that any lapse in concentration from this would put at threat the world directly all around me. It really is just that – either bless or destroy the world around me. And I must, for the sake of all that I traverse alongside as well as this being that I carry, focus solely on the blessing of all that is around me.

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There is nothing else.

Because of modern ‘developments’, what was once possible in our stage of evolution is not anymore, and where once we were capable we are no more.

This is why I haven’t written readily as of late. The blinding of the soul and spirit by the smartphone revolution is so great that I rarely see any of the clarities that once propelled me to and fro.

Now I move by state of either necessity or accident. Actions are so long drawn-out that the sensation of synchronicity is behind me, and I am becoming more of a cog in this machine that I worked for most of my life against being a part of.

I am encapsulated in a seeming endless state of disassociation and not-really-feeling. I am not there. I am not here. I am not, I just am not.

And does this lead me anywhere? Does it help when I remember all these times of past that were so rich with vitality, that seem almost like scenes from a movie that have nothing at all to do with me except for that there’s an emotive response I feel, deep inside me, that overrides everything else and makes these thoughts become worthless?
What is it all worth, if anything at all?

Is this an explosion of the anatma, the true realisation of the non-self? Or is it sensual apathy, nothingness brought on by a society of pseudo-everythingness existence?

Hare Krishna. Hare Rama. There is nothing else.

Invigorated to fight

It may come as a shock to some, but we beings in this ‘Western’ existence are so bloody trapped by the tools of the society that we’re inane, lost, and beaten.

There is no way to freedom except through the Absolute, and even that is depicted as a part of the stream of the mainstream.

Our water is full of poisons. Our food would never naturally be consumed. The air is bloody and bruised. There is a constant hum wherever you go, deep in the background, that controls how our minds work. Our electronic devices give us arthritis (no, really, the radiation chokes the cells in and around the joints). We’re not told, but our diet is actually acidifying and debilitating on our functioning as living beings. I’d estimate that all of the societal controls and constraints lead to us living a life of perhaps 1-2% of our full capacity. And we call this freedom.

We call this freedom, and believe we can imprison or even kill people to prolong it. That there are people that are threatening our extremely limited experience of living. We think we need our water and our meat and our vegetables to keep us living. And we call this freedom. And we’ll kill each other forever and live unsatisfied lives forever.

But maybe we’ll wake up sometime. Maybe we’ll wake and have a particularly lucid moment, or the absolute will give us a message by dreamwork, and then we’ll get a choice (for, we won’t have a choice otherwise) about which direction we go. Do we go in the path of the absolute, which we will get shunned for but we’ll experience life much more fully, or do we keep following the steps of our peers towards this nothingness that we pin a name and construct to?

The sun is praying for all of us, warming us in its springtime hue. Bless us all.

Didj journey with Joe Caudwell, Newport IOW

Experiences from a didgeridoo and ocean drum journey led by Joe Caudwell on the eve of Saturday 11th March 2017, at Newport Unitarian Hall, Isle of Wight.

I’m on a small beach, a sunny day with fairly calm seas, and there’s a very large tree just going up the slope from the beach inland, towards a lightly forested area. It is maybe an oak, or perhaps a banyan (I might be in Indonesia).

There is an opening in the trunk, and I enter in and out a few times. I’m taken back into the sea a few times. Eventually I enter and it’s like a dark walkway for a little way, and then things start going very fast, with lots of blue colours swirling.

I come out by a large crater. There are a few people around, who are all shape-shifting (their faces open up to reveal metal etc). I start falling into the crater, which has a dark slightly bubbling mass covering the entire bottom. I am hovering but falling slightly. I see more faces.

Things trail off from this point – I slowly come back to the room, hearing the Didj and drum, and think I’m not supposed to have come back yet.

I’m soon back at a beach – a different beach though, but very close to the first one, similar energy. I’m not quite so relaxed for a little while, and I’m going quickly from one image to another. At one point I consciously think I should be meeting an animal or something, and a lion comes along, but he doesn’t do anything, he just lies down. I see lots more shape-shifting people. A lot of them are trying to freak me out, like ghosts, but I’m feeling fine, feeling very safe.

One thing leads to another, and I’m at the top of a massive gorge, really high up with sheer faces. I start falling down the side of it, and an absolutely massive bird appears, like a pterodactyl (dinosaur bird). The bird takes me up to the clouds, and then we keep bobbing up above the clouds and then back down into the thick but gentle clouds. We soon start gliding above the clouds, and it’s like a beautiful landscape up there, with high faces and whatnot.

There’s a big old sailing ship, like a pirate ship but not pirates. It’s sailing the clouds.

For a brief instant, Shirdi Sai appears, as he looks on my shrine (like this:)

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Sri Shirdi Sai

Then the clouds become an ocean, with massive massive waves, towering so so high, and yet the boat is able to deal with it. We go up massive wave, then an even more massive wave, and so on, until I turn around and we allow the waves to take us where they’re going.

We end up on the beach I first started on. I’m in the woods up the slope from the beach. There’s a big brick elliptical arch, a little bigger that the wooden arch we installed at Somaskanda Ashram in the temple last summer. It’s a beautiful sight, and I’m stood there just staring up at its shape for some time, in this nice familiar wooded setting (the woods are very local at this point, probably the woods on Headon Hill, Totland).
I have a friend come to me, who I heard a few weeks ago came very close to losing her life in a freak accident in the sea. I will get in touch – it’s been a few years since we communicated, and it felt like an important meeting in this journey.

Soon there is the call to come back, I go to my tree and go through the opening, there are a few shape-shifting people trying to stop me, going along a very long walkway, and Joe begins talking before I get to the other side of the walkway (I assume I got back okay – I could see the light…).

I talked to Joe about the shape-shifting, and about the boat in the sky. He says it all sounds like the celestial realms – the shape-shifting people maybe being ghosts. If I weren’t so needing to have a snooze now, I’d take the bus over to Yarmouth, where there’s apparently a big tall boat moored up, which could have a link with the boat in my journey.

Journey to the centre of being

It doesn’t matter so much what you do. The cause and effect will happen. The opposite will always be invoked, no matter how good or bad.

I had quite the internal crisis on Thursday night. I’d been to badminton club in Ryde, and lost every match except for the singles I played at the end of the night. The whole night I was feeling uncomfortable, feeling something odd going on energetically in the hall. It was like as if everyone was asleep in some way and something else was there.
I left feeling internally in pieces, pulled apart from the sense of stability and solidity that normally guides everything for me. I took my shoes and socks off, cranked up some music, and walked slowly through Ryde to some skips, and then to my bus stop. I felt as if everyone around was suddenly against me in some way. I got thoughts of where I could go and live instead. I thought of Bristol, South Wales, Switzerland, the Pyrenees, and Indonesia. All places where I’ve felt a feeling of freedom to be. It felt kind of urgent.

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I feel asleep on the couch trying to write about everything. I woke at 5am and went to bed for an hour, before I had to get up for work. I was still in pieces.

It had rained a lot, and was raining a little when I got out. I got my feet soaked when I got off the bus because my shoes don’t resist water. I got to work. I was told a few minutes after starting work that I hadn’t clocked in. I had clocked in, but it hadn’t registered so – normally this means missing morning tea break as a result. The supervisor said I’d clocked out accidentally instead of in, and everything was fine. I went through the first few hours in my own world with my assembling job that I was going for a new time record for. I was going so fast.

At tea break I spoke briefly to Mai, a lovely Thai lady. She pretty much just wished me a really pleasant weekend, we didn’t have much time for talking about anything as she was on the earlier tea break and had to go. The energy was soft, and loving. Everyone on that table was soft and loving.

I went back to work, and started conversation with my neighbour, a new guy, Phil, that started a few weeks back but had been repositioned next to me the day before. We connected strongly. He came to the island from Manchester because he has family here. He’d like maybe to start a business around his cartoons he draws. He doesn’t know where to get started with publishing. He’s a quiet man, and gives the impression of being very reclusive. But his energy is warm, and loving.

After work I needed to go to Newport to pick up a piece of wood for a miniature door carving I agreed to do for a dementia project. Phil got on the same first bus, and there were a couple of other colleagues that we sat upstairs with. The energy was fantastic, like we all shared in this club of living together at the factory.

In Newport I got the wood and went to Independent Arts, to see the project assistant. She was really excited by my enthusiasm to take this on, and said she’d like to put my progress on their website, and have a grand unveiling of the door on the 24th April. I felt feelings of real adequacy. I felt, for the first time since leaving Somaskanda Ashram, that I can call myself a carpenter again. I realised that I do have the skills and ability to do this project.

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The good vibes wood

I went looking for tools, and ended up buying some online. An investment – a jigsaw and a rotary tool. The rotary tool would take quite some time to sand it, but I can give the time. I will cut it with the jigsaw, then plane to a decent thickness, then carve patterns in with the rotary grinder. I can do this because I was carving into a meteorite rock with a rotary tool at Somaskanda. I am skilled.

I left home just after 7pm to go back to Newport for an Amnesty International meeting with Lucy. I heard from Tārā who told me all about Somaskanda – the first news I’d heard in quite some time to a place I feel so very much connected to. We met in Newport and talked briefly before getting to the meeting. I’d told Lucy I’d had a hard time and wanted an evening of good vibes.

The meeting was hot, way hot. I took my jumpers off but was still really hot. We were the youngest there by a long way. Most were very much retired. The Isle of Wight Amnesty group was set by Derek Stirman in 1962, 55 years ago. He was in the meeting. We were told he keeps quiet nowadays in the meetings as he feels he can’t contribute anything anymore because of his age, but that it was completely because of him that the group has been going the whole time. I felt like I was meeting a living legend.

They talked about different prisoners that they’re trying to help, and different events they’re putting on. I’d been quiet most of the time but ended up agreeing to promote some of the events, and I wrote a birthday message to a prisoner in Morocco about football (I was told he likes hearing about football and so I told him briefly what’s going on at my club, Newcastle United, with all the good vibes Rafa Benitez has invoked). I marvelled at the stone fireplace, and especially at the beautiful long stone shelf that stuck out of it. As a stoneworker myself, I saw this as something really accomplished and beautiful.
We left, it was raining a lot, and quickly the chair of the meeting picked us up and took us to Brading.

I suggested us going to the Kynges Arms pub on the high street, an Oldy Worldy pub I’d always wanted to go to but hadn’t been in yet.
We went in and immediately a girl came running over to Lucy and gave her a big hug. An old friend she hadn’t seen in a few years, since being her bridesmaid. The universe brought them back together here.

We sat at another table by the window with our drinks. There was an old well in the middle of the table. I was flabbergasted. The universe brought me back to the living waters.

Everything was all good vibes. Lucy asked me if I’ve ever done any building work, I told her about my first ever proper project I’d managed, and completed with David within our time limit, of building the shelter for Nandy. Of course Markus and Swami Narayana didn’t tell us their thoughts on it, they tended to keep their praise to particular planned-out moments. But it was brilliant. And it was David’s first ever building project (he didn’t tell me until after – I’d assumed he had some experience). He absolutely loved the project, and that’s what it’s all about in the end really. Loving what you’re doing. It really shows if you love it.

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Nandy Boys

I said about wanting to do face masks sometime. I hadn’t had a face mask since I was 17, but always found them so relaxing. Lucy said she makes face masks, but normally they’re for ‘girly nights’ and realised how much of a gender stereotype that is. We agreed that I would be seen as gay by other men if I spoke of wanting to have a facemask. It’s a desire for relaxation, and for some reason it’s seen as extremely deviant for a man to want that. It brought my mind quickly back to the Amnesty meeting, when a call-out was made as to if anyone would lead up a Pride project to do with Amnesty on the island, and the chair specifically looked at Lucy and myself, and we both stayed quiet. I hadn’t ever considered myself within that grouping, but there are so many things that make me stand out from the ‘man’ stereotype. I feel uncomfortable when other men are sexualising women in any way (and this includes even ‘chatting up’ women at events based on their looks), and don’t actually see myself feeling an attraction to anyone based solely on their looks. I sleep cuddling teddy bears every night. I wear hippy trousers that are only sold in women’s sizes. And for years in the past would be confused for being a lady, because of having long hair and no beard. But then I feel that all people, regardless of sexual leaning and what have you, should have every right to feel ‘pride’ in being whatever feels natural. Whatever feels natural.

We left, Lucy caught her bus, and I had a brilliant puja at my shrine. To bed, and a night of crazy dreams, lots of disturbances throughout. But I’m here now. I need to retreat away sometimes, but will continue to affect things around me even if I have retreated. Sometimes a retreat is the most powerful action, or is the only thing that feels right.

And I feel all vibed up. The crisis of Thursday night brought a lot of things up. I doubted everything I’m doing. Now I’ve been given signs that I’m doing all the right things. And that’s all I need.

Can you save my life? ‘Cause I would save your life.

I go to sleep late, at gone 6am because I have a chest full of something and don’t want to sleep on that. I watch hours of Gayzer Frackman’s videos of getting in the way of Cuadrilla at Preston New Road, somehow feeling a part of it.

I do my puja at 5.30, aware that pujas are now happening at Skanda Vale, Wales, and at Soma Skanda Ashram in the Alps. And I am here.

I get into bed, cuddled up tightly to Mummy Bear, comforting life-force throughout everything. Every night at Soma Skanda was the same, and at Skanda Vale before. A good teddy bear, with the best of energies in, makes a world of difference.

Almost immediately I’m in a room, kind of like a classroom. Angela is there, as well as quite a few others I know, and some I don’t know. She’s dramatising something, and I’m unsure of if she’s mad at me or just making drama. It was often that way at Soma Skanda, but really great to have that. She put her eyes to the back of the head, and feigned fainting, and actually did faint, hitting the ground hard, backwards. Within an instant she shrinks in size to a baby, actually becomes a newly born, or maybe even a yet-to-be-born, baby.

The energy completely takes over. The whole room is transfixed, or reacting in extreme ways. I am suddenly feeling extremely sick and dizzy, find a sink but nothing’s really coming out, but I’m imagining that it is. Then I lose all ability to do anything, and fall sideways hard onto the ground. Someone I know does too. We both shake as our bodies shrink very quickly, us about to become lifeless babies.

I wake before it completes, but everything’s suddenly different. I hug mummy bear tightly, and tell her my dream, and she’s there, hugging me, helping me with my breathing. Distance is nothing.

I’d read Jonathan Livingstone Seagull earlier, at about 2am, and the teachings sowed themselves in me. There’s so much to become, we are not this body and this mind, we are everything.

I hear the train running in the distance, and slowly go back to sleep.

Now it is not raining for the first night in a week. I can see everything when I’m up on the Downs. It feels clear. Like we’ve all been through something really quite intense over this past week, and now it’s cleared.

It’s cold, but things have cleared.

No point sitting around, waiting for things to change

Tonight, 2am, misty rain and Efa Supertramp in my ears. Recreate the future, recreate your future.

I walk barefoot. I stopped walking barefoot when I got my motorbike, over two years ago.

Through the feet we root ourselves, contact vayu with prithvī. It’s like things are suddenly real again, and I feel the energy flowing down into the ground, this is what I’ve needed all along.

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He that sows thorns should never go barefoot.

I read in a diary I kept in 2012 of life being so different. There was no need for work. There was optimism. There was so, so much energy, and it was just there. It didn’t need to come from anywhere. It was just there.

Now I live my days by the next day. When it rains, it halts my flow of watching the sunset on the downs. It keeps me inside, and when my mum comes home I’m living the story of years ago when I would feel guilty of not having done anything much in the day. Forgetting all the time that the day begins at night for me here, now. It is when I have energy for everything. I explain that I’m so affected by energies, and it’s only at night when I feel so natural. And it’s true, but partly because I don’t have a backbone yet.

I could be free.

My bank balance went down to my last £35. My phone, which I use for internet and music and as camera, and for work, got water damaged and developed a serious fault. But it’s all repairable. But if it weren’t so repairable, I think I would happily go and live a simple life again, for a while.

The Swamis were keen to urge that I need to focus on what I want in life. I told them I couldn’t be a monk because I see myself having family in the future sometime. They tried to get me to focus on that as immediate, that my life should centre itself around that. But that’s not why I didn’t become a monk. It’s not what I decided. And yet, it seems to be how I’m living my life. I wanted to go to gigs again, and I wanted to get to a place where I could thrive again.

So I now compose this poem to the girl that stays with me mystically through everything. And it’s written in Scandinavian languages, because they’re beautiful, and it needs to be beautiful, which cannot be done in English or German languages. She wants to dance and to thrive in life.

Let’s dance until the morning light
Stand on the streets, stand up for our rights
We’ll paint this city bright tonight
We sing from our hearts and they call this a fight.

Well I don’t believe in your lies
And I don’t believe in your money
And I don’t believe in the way
That you make us work till we can’t smile
And I cannot understand why you do anything for money
And you cannot understand why I do anything to be freeeeeeeeee.

And this makes getting a job very difficult.

Barefoot bloody tree-hugger.

But thaaaat’s liiiiiiiifeeeeeee!!!!