Key (w)holes or Stairways to Heaven

In Bollingen, silence surrounds me almost audibly, and I live “in modest harmony with nature.” Thoughts rise to the surface which reach back centuries, and accordingly anticipate a remote future … my ancestors’ souls are sustained …. since I answer for them the questions that their lives once left behind. I carve out rough answers as best I can. … It is as if a silent, greater family, stretching down the centuries, were peopling the house. (MDR, P 237) Jung p 36

When we fight for the soul and its life, we receive as reward not fame, not wages, not friends but what is already in the soul, a freshness that no one can destroy. This soul truth, which young people pick up somewhere, sustains them. It assures the young man or woman that if not rich, he or she is still in touch with truth; that his inheritance comes not from his immediate parents but from his equals thousand of generations ago; that the door to the soul is unlocked; that he does not need to please the doorkeeper, but that the door in front of him is his, intended for him, and that the doorkeeper obeys when spoken to. Robert Bly, P 46

It is not easy to answer your question about the “Island of Peace.” I seem to have quite a number of them, a sort of peaceful archipelago. Some of the main islands are: my garden, the view of the distant mountains, my country place where I withdraw from the noise of the city, my library. Also small things like books, pictures, and stones. Jung p 37

A juxtaposition of perspectives in the form of a spiral staircase

When you walk out into Nature you have basically two way of creating dialogue. First you can simple turn off the beaten track and discover a Sacred Aisle or place that speaks to you across time, or you can get stuck in and actually create one. What you see in front of you is a spiral staircase made of earth, trees and stones that connects two terraces. Each of the terraces is quite different, one old and unchanged, the other, newer with recent plantings  of introduced trees and flowers. It is a very, very  long walk to get from one to the other, to the next higher level and, by the time you get there, you are getting weary and tend to have forgotten where you have come from and lost the impression of what you experienced. Hence, the spiral stairway makes it possible to compare and contrast the two levels very quickly, as you ascend,  jarring the senses and lifting you upward. The twisting movement causes you to adjust your stride, grasp, hold on, fear falling, to be drawn into the different something… a camellia horseshoe, guarded by two old orange trees… just time to make a wish that will sweep you off your feet.

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Boxer, his name was ‘Boxer’!

Horses make a landscape look beautiful.

Alice Walker

John Elsley – Shire Horses

Get off your high horse,” my father quipped at me one day when I was a little boy.
Until this day, I had never really realized that I have always been riding a high horse.  I have now lived three times as long as most horses, but I know I am riding the same horse. You see, in the past month I have dreamed about horses no less than nine times. For some people, this might even be considered a night mare – pun intended.  The dreams produced the following conceptions:

The Return of the Son King, The Presence of the White Unicorn, The Invisible Green Horse, Horse in a Pickle, Horses Pulling Their Weight, Alive and Kicking, Horse in Shawl, Time out with the horses calling in the Future

So the question you are asking, as I was, is: Where is all this coming from and where does it lead? I remember now, my friend, Roger Hawksbury’s father had saved a great white shire. The horse had worked all its life and he believed that it should be put out to rest, put out to pasture to spend it remaining days in peace – and not to be exchanged for money and sent to the knacker’s yard to be turned into dogmeat, which was custom even in England where they are supposed to love horses.  He was a good man and that horse deserved the best even when it was too old to work and worn out. But I only knew this part of the story later.
Roger and I were just a couple of young school kids and loved to be out to play, as it was called then.  I had climbed over the wall with broken glass embedded in the top to join him and jumped down into the mental asylum, for the farm was now being used to keep the patients occupied. But we weren’t interested in them, particularly. First we visited the orchard and then made our way towards the lake, Duchess’s lake. It was our adventure because we had to keep out of sight of the warden with his stick – Roger had told me that he had laughed so hard when one day a big dog had run up to the warden and run off with his stick – There were carp in the lake – some say,  as old as a hundred years – they were later caught and transferred to Bristol Zoo, I heard, when the lake was drained for the motorway to come through.
And sooner or later, we would tire and just sprawl in the grass and from the edge of the lake look up the hill at the Palace, already a hospital. And there to one side was a tall stone pillar, a memorial to the Indian Prince’s steed.  And there grazing below the Palace was the magnificent white shire that captured my heart for ever. What I remember was the impression of white on green, for his white countenance shone at you and I swear that the grass radiated greener and greener. I was hypnotized. I remain hypnotized.
Boxer, His name was ‘Boxer’!
….

Well, I never did meet the white shire again but have chanced on five horses, which if we put them all together recreate his presence.  And guess how you might sum up my life today, Yes, ‘ Time out with the horses, calling in the future, for, here, our horses literally create the landscape!

Horses enjoying life

The Magic Mountain of Grace

I was to ascend this enormous mountain! I no longer knew which was bigger, I or the mountain. With a tremendous puffing, the wonderful locomotive shook and rattled me up to the dizzy heights where ever-new abysses and panoramas opened up before my gaze, until at last I stood on the peak in the strange thin air, looking into unimaginable distances. “Yes,” I thought, “this is it, my world, the real world, the secret, where there are no teachers, no schools, no unanswerable questions, where one can be without having to ask anything.” Jung 31

May your trails be crooked, winding, lonesome, dangerous, leading to the most amazing view. May your mountains rise into and above the clouds.” Edward Abbey

“Any road followed precisely to its end leads precisely nowhere. Climb the mountain just a little bit to test it’s a mountain. From the top of the mountain, you cannot see the mountain.”


Distant view of Mt Graça

See anything? Nothing at all? Not there in the distance, perhaps? Try projecting yourself forward, relax your eyes and senses … and feel it. For what you are looking for is not really out there but within you… yes, let yourself go and dream your dream.

Not quite that easy, you are thinking.

Well, you may be pleased to know that Mt. Graça (the mountain of grace) really exists to help you get tuned in  (click on the photo).  She is a very feminine mountain, smoothly rounded,  that has a way of changing color, disappearing and reappearing when you least expect. She is also decked in rainbows and thunder and lightening storms. And last, but, not least, she is enchanting – it is so easy to be entranced by her and heaven swept.  And so I,  entranced,  share her dream with you.

And she would reunite YOU with YOUR own MOUNTAIN OF GRACE, all the countless blessings you have been gifted with and she would tell you that YOU are incredibly lucky and one of G/god’s most appreciated children.

Today is your day! Your mountain is waiting. So … get on your way.” Dr, Seuss

Hodgepodge Ordered – Miscellaneous Dreams

I have dreams that relate very closely to relatively banal problems. And so I was dreaming of water under a metal plate – yes, I knew where that was, I thought to myself on waking, it is the plate over the cesspit that needs fixing. The horses cross it everyday, so one fine day…

And I dreamed recently of a type of general dissipation – nothing was clearly defined, but I felt warm and safe, projecting into everything at once. Yes, I remembered where I was, as you might, too – “Back to Nature’s Womb”! When I saw Anne Geddes’ picture on the Web I recognized the state immediately.

foetus

She also managed to conceptualize that feeling of ‘projection with the all’ that I experienced.

Cosmos

It was interesting that this dream led me to Anne’s exceptionally beautiful work.

Yes,  the sensation of feeling in Nature’s Womb again is wonderfully reassuring. So my dreams range from the  simple to the really sublime, don’t they?

The Sacred Aisle


In front of the wall was a slope in which was embedded a stone that jutted out –- my stone. Often, when I was alone, I sat down on this stone, and then began an imaginary game that went something like this: “I am sitting on top of this stone and it is beneath.” But the stone could also say “I” and think: “I am lying on this slope and he is sitting on top of me.” The question then arose: “Am I the one sitting on the stone, or am I the stone on which he is sitting?” This question perplexed me, and I would stand up, wondering who was what now. The answer remained totally unclear, and my uncertainty was accompanied by a feeling of curious and fascinating darkness. But there was no doubt whatsoever that this stone stood in some secret relationship to me. I could sit on it for hours, fascinated by the puzzle it set me. (Jung MDR,PP. 19-20) 

And so I walk in the direction of a dream, a longing to find myself and where I belong. Dreams are all around us: we are made of dreams and dreams make it possible to create the reality we seek to exist in.

Sacred Aisle

The Sacred Aisle

And so I perceive a dream-scape one of the sources that connected man to the eternal. A clearing and a way leading to some upturned ‘STONES’ of a curious shape and size. You feel a change of temperature – cooler, damper, more intense and yet soft. You look at the stones and see strange time travelers wanting to tell you a secret in their uncanny muteness. Lots of minute life-forms cling to them. There is a world there waiting to be born again as you may witness in the cathedrals scattered around the Globe.

To see the world in a grain of sand, and to see heaven in a wild flower, hold infinity in the palm of your hands, and eternity in an hour. William Blake

And so looking at the stones in the clearing  a sense of your true being and identity is revealed. Leaves, trees, grasses and even lichen become part of a dance: you start seeing things in things:

Face in a cork tree

Yes, you perceive the green man, the face of our ancestors, bearded, saddened but with great dignity. Compare it to how the face of civilization has been depicted:

See,” Ochwiay Biano said, “how cruel the whites look. Their lips are thin, their noses sharp, their faces furrowed and distorted by folds. Their eyes have a staring expression; they are always seeking something; they are always uneasy and restless. We do not know what they want. We do not understand them. We think they are mad. …. “We think here.” he said, indicating his heart Jung (P 42)

…. Yes, the green man that you may come across in the shadows and dances of the forest has a very different face and, in essence,  is our real face. Therein walk and talk the ‘ancient archives of wisdom’ that are the feelings and vibrations in our heart – a heart that has almost lost its body and been reduced to a state of heartlessness. But we know the answer to this dilemma:

Be present in this moment of time, just as you are present within your own heart. For the inner and the outer mirror each other in a way that is mysterious and wonderful. Llewellyn Vaughan-Le)

For the inside is the outside and the outside the inside. Tend the environment you live in and you tend yourself and vice versa.  And so I am to care for the Sacred Aisle!

My headman, a long thin Somali, told me the “natives” were so stupid that they didn’t even know what they were called. They said they were called “ the people who are there.” I found this very enlightening. Jung p63 

N.B.: The Sacred Aisle is also a space within a space:

I  have been trying in my way to be free

I  have been trying in my way to be me

I  have been trying in my way to see YOU and ME  …

in the future… ‘twould be something else:-)



The Hidden Potential in an ‘Empty’ Room

Imagine dreaming of ‘blank walls’ like I did and the terrifying thought of the Man who couldn’t Dream, couldn’t find release and solutions. So, now, ‘showering’ – I am being drawn to water as a solution and the sea of existence. Balance and counter balance inside and out. Looking for a dream during the day to compensate for the walls: dreams are all around you.

Forest Garden Estate Righted

 

The Dream

I see Carlos, my best friend, helping and my working it out with Sebastian and the other horses in every situation especially the simplest and most basic. This is genuine connection and communication which are divine – money does not come into it. If it is right, it is RIGHT. More is not better: small and significant is. QUALITY IS THE KEY. I feel a sense of togetherness, here. You see,  truly being yourself in every moment and situation, nothing new is needed only to make the best of what is there. So feel free enough to walk with a light step.