Rite of Oneiric Insight, Part 2: Cartomancy & Visualization

Cards used for divination in Rite of Oneiric Insight
(Gate of Ivory, Back, Gate of Horn, respectively)
Gate designs by artist Amanda Kiefer. 

Notes on a couple important details for "The Rite of Oneiric Insight": 

Cartomancy:

In Duncan Barford's Rite of Morpheus, he employs a divinatory technique which involves blindfolded attendees choosing to walk toward one or another corner of the room & then revealing to them which Oneiric gate the corner signifies. I hesitated to follow this technique for several reasons, one of which was the simple fact that I had set the room up in the form of a large bedspace & it would be a hazard to try to have people stumble about blindfolded in loose bedding. The other primary reason is that I placed a great deal more emphasis on the visualization portion of this rite & I didn't particularly want to rouse people so abruptly after a long guided meditation.

Instead, I created a deck of cards which contains only two faces: Gate of Ivory or Gate of Horn. All the backs are identical, of course & I laminated them for longer wear. I gave each attendee a muslin pouch into which they would later put a clary sage steeped cloth & mugwort herb, but before that, they needed to select one of the two cards I had placed in their pouch. I did not dictate how they should do this, only that they should consider carefully their forthcoming dreams with great focus. Some selected right from the bag, others took them out, shuffled & spread them. The result were quite incredible, but I will save that story for "Rite of Oneiric Insight Part 3: Reflections." 


Visualization:

The verbiage used for the visualization's beginning & ending, that is, the relaxing entry into a meditative state & the gentle reentry in to the waking world was borrowed & adapted from several of Jody Whiteley's sleep hypnosis videos & scripts including, but not limited to:

Sleep Hypnosis Hypnotic Bedtime Story for Self Confidence Self Esteem
Sleep Hypnosis for Lucid Dreaming a Free Hypnosis Script
Morning Meditation by Jody Whiteley
Sleep Hypnosis for Self Confidence (newest version)
Sleeping Under Red Eleven (Google Drive)

The body of the dreamwork visualization, or the "Journey to the House of Sleep," I composed using excerpts from a variety of sources including:

Metamorphoses Book XI:573-649 The House of Sleep (A. S. Kline's Version)
Homer, Odyssey 19. 562 ff (trans. Shewring)
Charles K. Dillaway, Roman Antiquities & Ancient Mythology for Classical Schools (2nd ed)

The Orphic Hymn to the Oneiroi found within the visualization I adapted from "Dream" by Kimberly Nichols as published in "The Sacred Songs of Orpheus IV: Ares to Death," in Newtopia Magazine.

The text of the visualization (journey body only) is below. Please note that I have omitted the meditation entry & reentry out of respect for Jody Whiteley & her work. My adjustments to her compositions was minimal -- only small to adaptions for context & sequencing of events were made.


"Journey to the House of Sleep" 
A Visualization for Rite of Oneiric Insight

(Relaxation/Meditation Entry Omitted)

"...you can see where you are going now is some place darker and more mysterious and you can hear the faint sounds of ocean breezes and see a twilight sky and the starry cloak of mother Nyx closes over the scene above you until you are looking at the canopy of Night’s heavens and you come to rest upon the soft earth amongst a swath of tall grasses and wildflowers… and as you land, the wispy, green undergrowth, rustles and scratches the sides of your bed that bumps softly twice and it lands to tamp down the foliage to one side, maybe its your left side, there is a path roughly carved into this bluffy landscape and a door has opened beside your bed to invite you to take a little stroll down this path which leads away from the ocean, bending up over a rise, out of sight and you are curious about what you might find across this meadow so you get up out of your bed or your chair and take a walk along this path… 

big gap… 

The trail is very slightly sandy and feels soft and warm beneath your feet and it is slightly damp, but the air is dry and comfortably cool, not chilly. You near the top of the rise in the path and as you do, the sounds of the sea become a little bit quieter and you notice that the breezes have begun to ebb, slowly and softly disappearing into stillness. 

You keep walking in the dim light of the starry sky and when you reach the crest of the hill, you are amazed to see the Moon has broken over the horizon to highlight a wide, low valley, bathed in blooming poppies and sleepy herbs, drowsy plants from whose juices dew-dappled Night gathers sleep, and scatters it over the darkened earth… at the center of this blanket of ethereal, luminescent flowers is a hollow mountain with a deeply cut cave… 

As you begin your descent along the path into the valley, you notice that the sounds of the world around you have disappeared…  

And you become aware that you are now approaching the House of Sleep, a place where perpetual stillness reigns, no noise being heard but the soft murmur of a small fork of the river Lethe, which creeps over the loose pebbles, and invites you to slumber… 

Here, in Hypnos’s sanctuary, silence dwells. In this place of complete peace, you will find no guardians…
No waking cockerel summons Aurora with his crowing,
no dog disturbs the silence with its anxious barking,
no geese cackle their sharp alert…
No beasts, or cattle, or branches in the breeze,
no clamour of human tongues.
Only the flow of Lethe’s stream, murmuring and calling you to drowse… 

As you come closer to the cave entrance, clouds mix with fog, and shadows of the half-light are exhaled from the ground, and through the soft haze, perhaps in the corner of your eye, you think you might see two grandly adorned gates, fading in and out of the shadows. And you remember that somewhere, sometime, someone told you about these gates, these gates somewhere beyond the North Wind… the Gate of Horn and the Gate of Ivory, from which Dreams emerge…

And you know, somehow, in some way, that there are no doors in this palace and that beyond the mouth of this open cave, if were you to travel through the mouth of this cave, lies a tall bed made of ebony, a downy nest, spread with a dark-hued coverlet, where the god of Sleep himself reclines, his limbs relaxed in slumber… his head surrounded by fantastic visions… 

But you have not come here to have an audience with the drowsy god, you have come to meet the Oneiroi, the dream spirits who gather round him and lie, here and there in the soft, quiet darkness of his bedchamber… uncertain dreams, taking different forms, as many as the ears of corn at harvest, as the trees bear leaves, or grains of sand are strewn across the shores… 

Standing a few yards from the entrance, you pause for a moment and observe your surroundings… could this place be a dream? And this is when you remember why you came here… Yes, to honor the dream spirits that rest here and depart through the spectral gates to offer their visions while we sleep… You reach into your pocket and find a paper, a paper with a hymn printed upon it… It is Hymn to the Oneiroi, and you take a deep breath, filling your nostrils and your lungs with the heavy scent of Sleep’s landscape, and you begin to recite… 

Swift-winged dreams, Oneiroi,
messengers of the stars,
oracles to the human mind,
in the sweet silence of sleep
you arrive without a sound
speaking to the soul…
Whispering, you rouse the senses,
in our slumber you reveal to us
the will of the Blessed Ones.
Sincere souls that take the honest way
of devotion to the divine,
you silently show
glimpses of distant tomorrows.
Good wins every race
in mortal minds.
Good leads our lives
to anticipated pleasures,
and relieves our suffering
so the spirits can reveal
the mysteries of Their domain.
The sincere always end more sweetly,
but the insincere remain blind,
pensive with fears,
their respite from pain is never revealed.
In all things bring us closer
to the noble path.
Reveal the concealed
signatures of fate.
Let no strange apparitions
show us signs of ill omen.
We call to you, beloved Ones,
show us the will of the gods. 

In the tranquil silence of the Moonlit landscape, you sense a stirring from within the very heart of the mountain. This stirring you sense from within, with your intuition, your second sight, because the cave is too dark, this place too quiet for you to discern the movements with your well-used senses. Fixing your eyes on the mountain’s yawning mouth, you wait… 

And with a sudden, silent rush there emerges a flood of airborne creatures, a surging wind of dark forms on the wing… birds, bats, or angels of the Night sky — how many ways can we know Them? They surge into the fog, and if you look, not with your eyes, you might see them leaving through the gates, a fluttering, torrent fading into the shadows… 

The softest breeze brushes your cheeks and flutters down your body and you know this sensation must be the passing of some of these dream spiritits, making their passage into the the realm we call the unconscious… 

Something tells you it is time to return to the path and begin your departure from this sleepy valley, but before you turn away from the House of Sleep, you look once more at your hymnal page. You notice it has changed. Take a moment to trace that page into your memory so that you may carry it back with you to a place of wakefulness…"

(Closing/Reentry Ommitted)

One final note: The Ceremony Pamphlet with Hymns, Outline & Credits in  printable PDF format is available HERE via Google Drive.

Wandering (not far): The Language of Snow

Today, after exercise, I had a choice. The family is gone: computer, books or... outside?

After a moment's hesitation -- nay, temptation -- I donned the snow bibs, turtleneck, wool socks, boots, scarf, hat, mittens... 

and I shoveled snow for two hours.

Placid, quietly talking to myself(?), I had developed a smooth, meditative rhythm which I did not notice until the High Priest came out to assist. I watched his short, rapid, economical movements in stark contrast to my long, paced, sinuous dragging. He was deeply invested in efficiency. He was there to remove snow. I recognized then that I was not. I was there to be with the snow. I was visiting in Snow territory. My aim was immersion: What is required to learn the quiet language of Snow?

The family reappeared not long after the High Priest had joined me & they all wielded shovels, making quick work of the very large lot. I suppose I could have felt deflated by the fact that they out-shoveled me in less than half the time...

but I was utterly satisfied.

Outside. No matter what.

A gratuitous photo of fungi & snow.
(Because I cannot help myself.)

For the Files: The Perspectivist's Cure for Drama or, "Really, How Big Is It?"

A powerful storm rolls in...  How will you weather it?

The following visualization/meditation has saved my mental & emotional hindquarters more times than I remember. I was reminded of it recently while considering the stormy seas of a few friends. Circumstances being what they are in the world, I thought it might prove to be of value to someone who wanders across this page. It is also something I have wanted to save here for my children, for the files. It comes with an unusual backstory -- I received this tool, this insightful gem, from a most surprising & peculiar source. As I said before,

...wisdom resides in the most curious places.

Many, many Moons ago, I was a member of a women's "service organization" which today is considered by many to be a cult. (Indeed, it has the been subject of exposés both written & televised.) I personally never felt that I had been coerced, manipulated or brainwashed into participating, but I will confess that some of their members behaved as if they had. I involved myself by choice & took my leave, with some sadness, when other obligations demanded my full attention. I am thankful to the women who cared for me & taught me so many valuable, life-changing lessons & my hope is that those who were unhappy found the strength to walk away while those who had found their home remain there to this day, nurturing others.

In order to be accepted as a member of this organization, women (there is a men's version too) must attend a relatively expensive, weekend-long, sleep depriving, emotional roller-coaster of a conference which could be best described as EST joining forces with Mars & Venus (of the "men/women are from..." variety). The bulk of the women-only event involved an often inspirational & sometimes demeaning monologue by the organization's leader/guru (ironically, a man) who had spent most of his career as a counselor & therapist. 

As a result of his counseling work, he determined that a great deal of the unhappiness in human life results from lack of purpose & perspective. In a nutshell, he argued that when a person is serving only their own immediate needs, their personal struggles & problems appear very large. However, if a person chooses to serve a higher purpose (one that serves a cause beyond their own) their personal problems appear diminished. He further reasoned that the greater the purpose for which someone works, the smaller their own misfortunes will appear & they will experience them with less drama... Drama. It's all about perspective.

Despite its dubious origins, this meditation/visualization is a fabulous exercise in perspectivism (an approach for which I have much fondness):

perspectivism |pərˈspektiˌvizəm|noun1 Philosophy the theory that knowledge of a subject is inevitably partial and limited by the individual perspective from which it is viewed. See also relativism .2 the practice of regarding and analyzing a situation or work of art from differentpoints of view. 

-- Apple Dictionary 

First, a couple of notes: 1) This is written in my own words, from my own aged memory -- a memory which has been modified over time because I have been using this technique for upwards of twenty years. To say that this is the work of the "guru" would be untrue. What follows is a permutation of his exercise which has evolved over the years while loitering about somewhere in my psyche waiting to be dusted off & embraced whenever drama threatened to outstrip sound thinking. But, quite honestly, I think my version is better. 2) I learned this before we humans had the internet. Well, at least before we had the internet with pictures. Although I haven't done this yet myself, I suggest taking advantage of the Goo-goo Goggle mapping system to enhance the visuals of this exercise. Or, stay old-school & don't. 3) I used this exercise liberally when I worked in a neurotically idealistic cooperative. I did the same as a cog in a hopelessly bureaucratic machine. In both circumstances, it worked wonders... magick even.

• 
  

  
  

  The Perspectivist's Cure for Drama: 

  A Meditation/Visualization

  
  

  Make sure you are comfortable & begin by taking some deep breaths. Take a moment to look about you, where you stand, sit, recline, before closing your eyes. Ground & center if that is a familiar process for you, otherwise, relax & breathe slowly & rhythmically until you feel very calm & focused...

  
  

  Now, take some time to become very aware of how you feel inside your body. Be present & conscious of your physical person, your position & placement in your immediate environment. What is your relationship to the space around you? What surrounds you? How does your body feel in this place? How do you feel emotionally in this place? Think about this. What is is like to be right here, inhabiting this space, right now?

  
  

  Next, you will need to shift your visual perspective. Step outside of yourself & observe your body in situ. View yourself from the outside, taking note of your person in relationship to your surroundings. Then, shift your angle of view slightly to see yourself as if you were hovering beside & slightly above your body. (Those with experience in astral projection, lucid dreaming & various other techniques will find this comes easily. If this is an unfamiliar process for you, begin by imagining yourself as a mirror image, imagine your hair, clothing, posture, position & once you have formed that image, work on shifting your perspective to a slightly overhead location.) Carefully observe the details of your surroundings. Are you indoors, or outdoors? Do you see rocks, books, cats, trees? Furnishings & concrete? Carpet or grasses? Is there a body of water nearby? A hill or building? Think about them.

  
  

  Then, begin to rise. Slowly, comfortably, drift above your physical person, your body-self & view your position in place from about the elevation of atop a three, four, five-story building. How do you appear from there? Look at your surroundings. How have they changed? After a moment of consideration, rise further up to reach the height of a very tall building, a soaring bird or an airplane just prior to landing. Observe yourself in the context of neighborhood -- a local perspective. How do you look from here? 

  
  

  Begin to gradually pull yourself way back, gently, as if rising in a hot air balloon. As you do this, watch how the scale & pattern of everything in the environment continually shifts & adjusts to accommodate new perspectives. View yourself, or rather, your position & surroundings (your person will no longer be visible), from a regional view. You might be in an urban area -- look at your place in that city, look at how it spreads around & beyond you... a system with so, so many parts. The same applies if you are in a rural or a remote area. How does the greater region relate to your place in it? Where are you located & what does this mean for your position in this much larger space? 

  
  

  Continue to drift upwards & away from your self-in-place, taking time to consider larger geographic & political boundaries such as counties, forests, coastal areas... where are you, how do you fit in to the increasing large & complex places? How do your worries & struggles relate to this bigger picture? Drifting higher & higher, see your place in the world at the state or provincial level, if you are in a smaller sized country, you might be gazing down upon your political homeland. Alternately, if you are aware of a larger geographical unit, such as the Great Basin, Pacific Rim or the Sahara Desert, perhaps you would prefer to consider your place in this ecological context. What is your place here? How do you contribute to this larger entity, this network of numerous smaller webs & loosely related beings, space & events?

  
  

  Rise & rise & rise until you can see the outline of the continent or ocean wherein you reside. These are great, vast spaces, teeming with activity. They are alive, how do they relate to you? How do you relate to them? You are engulfed in a place with more species than we can identify, more beings than we are even aware. The systems are rich, complex & ultimately unknowable. Can you still pinpoint your position? Can you determine how your cares & concerns relate to the world on this scale?

  
  

  Keep ascending, floating back until you can see the blue curve of our beautiful planet Earth. See how the atmosphere touches the surface of this living sphere. It is our blue blanket, our lifeline -- a thin blue line which sustains everything we need. How is this possible? How can we rely entirely on something so expansive, yet fragile, so potent, yet intangible? Finally, pull back, separate yourself from our planet & view yourself, your position, from the vantage point of our lady Moon... What an extravagant arrangement of creatures & spaces... how & where do you belong here? In what ways do you participate in this system? Think about your drama. How does it apply to how you see yourself now? 

  
  Consider for a moment that the bulk of the universe expands much, much further beyond this vantage point. It is not necessary to attempt to reach these perspectives in this exercise, just pause & take note. When you are ready, descend gently, gingerly back into your personal space, into our physical body & breathe. Take some time to become very aware of how you feel inside your body. Be present & conscious of your physical person, your position & placement in your immediate environment. Complete any lingering thoughts & reflections before returning to your terrestrial human day. When you feel calm, focused & prepared, open your eyes & take a good look at your place. 
  
  

  

  The storm has passed... How have you fared, Small One?

  
  

For the Files: Notes on Nomad Meditations Week 4

More (late) personal notes for the Dianne Sylvan's Spiritual Nomads E-Course... for the files.

"Laksmi and Blue Poppies" by Paul Heussenstamm. Available @ Mandalas.com

Week 4 of the Spiritual Nomads E-Course flew by & I reflect back & see myself looking a bit like I did during my undergraduate career. I was notorious for ending up with incompletes. Oh, yes Queen Incomplete. I was incomplete enough to have my graduation date protracted by two years, a situation which required that I gain employment with the University just to maintain some kind of tether to the school while I dragged my feet. 

Perfection is part of my problem, but there is also a pickiness I see more clearly as I age. I have had some pickiness with this course which is exhibited by my lack of answers to four weeks of "Questions for Further Contemplation" & perfectionism is holding up my "Guru Board" (although I confess it was initially delayed by pickiness). Overall, however, I feel really positive about my commitment to the meditation exercises & the gifts I have received from it.

Blue Poppy (Meconopsis sp.)
Courtesy WikiCommons

I really, really liked the modification to the meditations this week & it made me evermore grateful that I took the chakra meditations workshop through my Alaskan community this past Autumn. It had the unforeseen benefit of being an excellent foundation for this part of the course. In this module, Dianne Sylvan asks us to do some chakra work & suggests we imagine the chakras "changing shape, solidifying into closed flower buds. The type of flower is entirely up to you..." She later makes mention of the classic Eastern lotus blossom, but I chose poppies because they appeal to my sense of humor as well as my sense of aesthetic. Lotus flowers, they are not, but one must go with what works. (I was pleased to learn that blue poppies are an "Alaska Girl" favourite. I suppose should stop & smell the flowers when I am down there with the fungi...)

Also in this week's module was a discussion on building ritual. Suggestions for adding to the meditations ranged the gamut & I was resistant to making changes I felt would just "complicate" things. However, I found myself feeling a strong desire to use a bell. At first, I didn't know how, or when, but it quickly became clear that ringing the bell from the porch, before I step out into the Darkness was to be the bell's mode d'employ. It is my way of signaling my entry into a special time, a special place. It is as much a signal to me as it is to those I may encounter outside the door. I find it a nice, simple addition & it just feels right.

My personal meditation notes follow.

Notes on Meditations at the Night Altar Week 4:

Night Altar Day 1:

+ 1 Glass of cool water

+ 1 Incense burner, charcoal, black/dark copal resin*

Remember.

Remember the breeze & the snow dust. Remember the rhythm of water dripping somewhere -- perfectly in time with my breathing, my rocking.
Remember the ting of the wind chimes signaling the chill caress of  the wind on my cheeks.
Remember how smoothly the visualization exercise flowed, offering a sense of tranquility, but not profundity. It did, however, chase away the monkey. 
Remember a powerful feeling of gratitude. Gratitude for this exercise, for this sense of peace.
There is a glow along the Eastern horizon.
Goodnight.

Night Altar Day 2:

+ 1 Glass of cool water

+ 1 Incense burner, charcoal, small-grained, multi-coloured resin (from the box of unlabeled resins)
+ 1 Copper bell

Remember.

Remember the Moon,sending greetings from the West side of Her sky-palace. Remember considering joining Her there, but choosing otherwise, blowing Her a kiss & returning to the Night Altar.


Remember breathing, rocking. Chakras, green & blue. Poppies unfolding to receive Love & Grace.
From this place, I send much needed Love to one I do not know, far, far away. I send it over the ocean with the Wind. Chimes, near & far, sway & sing in the breeze as it gathers strength.


I feel the stirrings of an over-taken-ness. My body begins to subtly pitch forward & back. It is a rare but familiar feeling. I am eager to welcome it -- yet in my anticipation, I slip into conscious thought & the feeling fades.


In pleasant peace, I conclude my evening rite, pausing before entering the house to bid the Moon goodnight.

Night Altar Day 3:

The wind is nightmarish. I step outside & realize that if the wind were less icy, I would take great pleasure in being pushed about by the powerful gusts. Instead, it's freezing fingers flow through my down jacket & pyjamas like water through a sieve, forcing me to take cover. I consider the enclosed porch, but it is just not the same as being truly outside. 
Reluctantly, I capitulate to the elements. Sometimes we have to accept our status as creatures of comfort.

Night Altar Day 4:

+ 1 Glass of cool water

+ 1 Incense burner, charcoal, Livani resin

+ 1 Brass bell

Neglected to journal afterward. How slacktastic of me.

Night Altar Day 5:

+ 1 Glass of cool water

+ 1 Japanese Nippon Kodo Iris* & incense burner
+ 1 Brass bell

Remember.
Joy & the Moon above like a heavenly ceiling light.
The rushing voice of the snowfall-engorged river.
Breathing in. Breathing out.
Shooting Star.
Geese gossip on the Eastern ponds.
Snowy Moon-glow on the Canyon walls.
Poppies open, more bliss.
Yes.
Even the neighbor's overbuilt truck engine sounds good.
Joy.
Goodnight.

Night Altar Day 6:

+ 1 Glass of cool water

+ 1 Japanese Nippon Kodo Iris & incense burner
+ 1 Bell from the bedroom door*

I did not write notes, for not long after I begin baby wakes, crying. I return to the Night Altar with the little one in my arms. Breathing, rocking, under the gentle gaze of the Moon. He sleeps again, his face, wrapped in black velour, is a warm reflection of Hers, wrapped in the fabric of the heavens.
Who is this bird singing in the night?

Night Altar Day 7:

+ 1 Glass of cool water

+ 1/2 Japanese Nippon Kodo Amber & incense burner
+ 1 Bell from the bedroom door*

Remember.

The River. Breath. The Moon above, Her luminosity causing my pyjamas & fuzzy slippers to glow preternaturally. Her light feels warm.
The Red Planet. Large, twinkling. Largest it will be to our eyes until 2014.
Poppies open.
Monkey brain prevails.
I chose to conclude the meditation & begin to rise. The faintly, from the North, I hear the voice of Owl.
I am listening.
Owl in the South. Perhaps the bird has silently moved to another tree? 
Silence.
I begin to rise. Again, Owl calls. One in the North, one in the South. Call & response.
We go through this routine -- silence, then me, rising to leave & Owls delaying me, then silence again. Over & over.  
Finally, a very long silence.

I rise, raise my hands to the Sky & the voice from the North calls out, clear & quite loud now: Whooh, Hooo-Hooo!
I smile. No, beam. Yes. I am leaving now, but I will be listening.
I turn & grasp the door. Whooh, Hooo-Hooo!
Goodnight.

DianneSylvan.com

For the Files: Notes on Nomad Meditations Week 3

My experience of the meditation exercises for Week 3 of the Spiritual Nomad course was tepid at best. Part of the assignment was to integrate a piece of writing, song or chant into the meditation. I had no difficulty in deciding which author's works I would use, although I did have some trouble choosing a specific piece. After much reading & rereading of a handful of work from Æ's Selected Poems, I chose "Oversoul"as the poem du jour. It is a very contemplative poem & made for a lovely reading. The trouble was not with the reading per se (although I confess it was a wee bit disruptive to the rhythm of my breathing-rocking to stop & open a book) but with the additional accoutrements I needed to do this outside in the dark. I found myself wishing I had a basket to tote all the stuff. Instead, I clattered out, into the Darkness with resins, burner, charcoal, lighter, book & candlestick. 

Somehow, I keep winding up with stuff.

Oversoul 

-- Æ, aka George William Russell

THE EAST was crowned with snow-cold bloom
And hung with veils of pearly fleece:
They died away into the gloom,
Vistas of peace—and deeper peace.
And earth and air and wave and fire
In awe and breathless silence stood;
For One who passed into their choir
Linked them in mystic brotherhood.
Twilight of amethyst, amid
Thy few strange stars that lit the heights,
Where was the secret spirit hid?
Where was Thy place, O Light of Lights?
The flame of Beauty far in space—
Where rose the fire: in Thee? in Me?
Which bowed the elemental race
To adoration silently?

I made some fascinating discoveries regarding mudras & postures which I will reserve for a separate post. My notes on the individual meditations follow.

Notes on Meditations at the Night Altar Week 3:

Night Altar Day 1:

So tired. Sleep.

Night Altar Day 2:

So very tired. Sleep.

Night Altar Day 3:

+ 1 Glass of cool water
+ 1 Incense burner, charcoal, Dragon's Blood incense powder (not resin)
+ Candlestick, candle, Selected Poems, by Æ

Lots of stuff with new assignment: Book & candle, candlestick & lighter to read in the Darkness.

The stuff causes me to forget the glass of water. (Though I do not realize it at the time.)

Remember.

Monkey says: This Dragon's Blood powder burns quickly, too quickly, resins are better...
Breathe in. Breath out.
Having a desire to focus on elementals.
Breathing with Earth: Feel the soil beneath my feet.
Breathing with Fire: Feed the charcoal.
Breathing with Water: Bah.
Inside for a glass of water because the monkey brain won't let it go.
Breathing with Water: Being with the water in my belly.
Breathing with Air: Cold breezes in my lungs, nostrils filled with sweet, scented smoke.
Cannot ground well, but I read anyway.
After reading, I look to the stars...

"Where rose the fire: in Thee? in Me?
Which bowed the elemental race
To adoration silently?"

Night Altar Day 4:

+ 1 Glass of cool water

+ 1 Incense burner, charcoal, sticky, sweet-smelling, black resin (a dark variety of myrrh(?) from the box of unlabeled resins)
+ Candlestick, candle, Selected Poems, by Æ

Remember.
I can't remember, except that it was cold. Cold, dark & silent. Every noise was a distraction. Despite my adoration for Æ's poetry, what I really wanted was not to read, but to just be.

Night Altar Day 5:

Didn't take notes, but I remember a shooting star.

Night Altar Day 6:

+ 1 Glass of cool water
+ Candlestick, candle, Selected Poems, by Æ

Skipped the incense because it felt too complicated tonight.

There was a cow bellowing from the Eastern corrals. She was in labour or perhaps some other kind of pain. Gates rattled, cries & moans rang out, echoing off the canyon walls. I tried to stay. Where are they? Why isn't someone checking her? 
It made me sick & I had to go inside. No breathing, no reading, just jaw set & stomach tight.

DianneSylvan.com

For the Files: Notes on Nomad Meditations Week 2

"For there is a Beauty that hath no fitter ornament than Silence."

                                                                  -- Aleister Crowley

The altar exercise for Week 2 of the "Spiritual Nomad"lessons was to consider your altar items & place or replace three items on it. The objective of exercise was obviously to narrow down which items have them greatest spiritual significance or symbolic value. Of course, given my experience with the exercise last week (see: "Altars & Mushrooms & Other Revelations") this assignment placed me in a quandary. How can this soul-searching hominid improve upon a beautiful canyon, an open pasture & the star-dappled night sky? I find myself in agreement with Mr. Crowley once again -- there are some things which gain nothing from embellishment, addition or enhancement. 

So, I sought to consider what might enhance my meditative experience. I asked myself what items I always include on one of our transitory altars, be it for family, improv, holiday, etc. It seems to me that I consistently use incense, a candle, a vessel with water & a stone, salt, plant, animal or fungal material. The latter items abound at my Night Altar & need no additional representation. Quite instinctually, I determined that the water was to be brought to the altar in the vessel of my body. Thus, I began a ritual of drinking a full glass of fresh, cool water before stepping outside for my devotional. I have found this process particularly valuable. The first two items, the incense & candles, remained to be tested. These would be the two items that I would experiment with & carefully consider for the week's exercises.

My first night, I took a Chinese joss-stick outside with me. It was one of those pink & tan, low-smoke sticks which abound in Chinese markets -- we have been using them regularly in Sunrise "devotionals." However, I am ambivalent about this "low-smoke" variety of incense in general & I found it wanting. The second night, I took a candlestick & stub to my Night Altar. This was most unacceptable because it chased away the Darkness. I confess I was pleased when the wind took action -- where I lamely delayed -- mercifully snuffing out the flame halfway through the meditation. The third night I tried a Japanese Nippon Kodo "Koh." These are nice sticks & the Sandalwood is captivating, but without the bamboo core (or dish of sand), I kept breaking it on the frozen ground. I tried the Koh in Amber with a holder, but was uninspired. Finally, I used Greek "Livani" (Frankincense resin, or "tears") with charcoal in a burner. Not surprisingly, this was the best incense experience so far, although I may prefer a different resin. I will enjoy experimenting further with myrrh, benzoin, copal, dragon's blood, etc., presuming future assignments allow for it. 

Overall, this has been an interesting process & despite my natural tendency to pursue projects in less than orthodox manner (read: not very good at following directions), I think I am still considering the essential questions. My notes for the individual meditation experiences follow.

Notes on Meditations at the Night Altar Week 2:

Night Altar Day 1:

+ 1 Glass of cool water
+ 1 Fukwai Jintan joss stick

Remember.
Remember breathing. Remember the stars & the Red Planet.
Remember grounding easily.
Supplication, gratitude.  Smooth, easy.
I feel present, more present than ever before at the Night Altar.
Eyes closed. Listening. Breathing. 
Hear the river, the cattle.
Feel the cold breeze on my face.
It is cold outside, but I am not.
Smell the manure, the damp soil, the melting snow.
The incense.
Did the incense bring this awareness of scent?

Night Altar Day 2:

+ 1 Glass of cool water

+ 1 candle stub & candlestick

Remember: This candle is too bright. It chases the Darkness. 

It's light surrounds me. I feel like a beacon in the night.

Remember being preoccupied with the flashlight in the corrals on the far side of the pasture. 

What are they doing?

Never grounded.

Thank yous & goodnight.

Night Altar Day 3: "White Face's Lesson"

+ 1 Glass of cool water

+ 1 Japanese Nippon Kodo Sandalwood

Remember.

Remember the ease with which I grounded.

Remember rocking, breathing. Rocking -- without Baby.

Listen. Listen to their breath. Heavy. Slow. Rich.

They are somewhere nearby, with me here in the Darkness. Breathing as I breathe.

Remember no longer feeling cold. Remember the heat across my forehead.

Inspiration: to be more present in the moment.

Expiration: thankfulness for this Life.
Remember feeling present, alive, electric.
She turns her head.
She was resting there with her white face turned to the Darkness.
So very near, all this time. All this time, breathing beside me.
Awareness is so much more than ocular input -- yet how we humans rely upon it so -- at the expense of all other awareness. 
This is White Face's lesson.

Night Altar Day 4:

Unexpected guest.

Night Altar Day 5:

+ 1 Glass of cool water
+ 1/2 Japanese Nippon Kodo Amber & incense burner

Party.
Remember sonic booms & cow parade -- urinating.
Baby crying. Fiasco.



Night Altar Day 6: "A Reply from the Gods"

+ 1 Glass of cool water
+ 1 Incense burner, charocoal & Livani tears

Went out feeling ecstatic after passing on my "Secret Garden" to a friend (more on that later). This kept me amped up & it was difficult to ground & centre.

Remember.
Remember not hearing the river or the cows.
Breathe in.
Breathe out & the cows exhale with me.
Breathing. Breathing & rocking.
The energy is strong within me tonight. The night is very still, very quiet. Only the cows breathing...
The stars are clear & beautiful. No Moon.
There has been no Moon for days now. I miss Her.
I drift in & out of my meditation. The energy is so strong. The night is so silent.
Breathing. Rocking.
During scattered thought -- monkey brain -- it occurs to me that I have not spoken to the gods directly in a great deal of time. Always the mushrooms, the plants, the animals, the canyons.
Breathing. Rocking.

Monkey says: Why not now? Why not ask Them, "What say you? What are your words?"
I ask in silence. I ask aloud.
The river is loud now, but it is the suddenness of the Owl that stops my heart.
The geese -- silent thus far -- chime in & a single dog provides the chorus. All the while, Owl continues Her staccato call from the Darkness.
I feel so present, feeling the intensity of all these voices. With some trepidation, I half expect someone to step forth from the Darkness...

I have forgotten to breathe.
The dog is silent. The geese settle back in. Owl continues Her call, but it too is fading.
All is quiet again. The cows breathe with me.
I look to the stars, the canyon, the pasture & the frozen soil beneath my feet. 
I give thanks for this Life. I give thanks for Their words. 
I am listening.

Night Altar Day 7:

+ 1 Glass of cool water

+ 1/2 Japanese Nippon Kodo Amber & incense burner

The neighbors left their floodlight on. I can see the cows sleeping along the fence where the Darkness has been chased away. Is this where they rest every night? So close. Closer than I thought.

Remember trying to focus, to ground, to breathe. Remember the black cow standing, watching. 

Monkey brain. Thankfulness & goodnight.

DianneSylvan.com