This wonderful poem by Amara Bronwyn MacEachern Hollow Bones sums up, in a nutshell, everything about the specialised shamanic path that I write and teach about.
We locked up our wisdom into our bones
And swallowed the keys
They sank in our rivers of blood
And we forgot the maps
Because we had to forget the mysteries
To keep them safe.
We wove our hair into brooms
And swept over our paths
And then burned the earth with our rage
We didn’t teach our children
It was the only way to protect them,
But in them we planted seeds, seeds and keys
And told them stories and riddles and songs
With no roots, just tangled threads
That would take years to unwind
Just enough time
For the rains to fall again
and put out the fires
For the dams to break
For the rivers to flood
For the paths
to be walked again
For the soil to breathe
And as the old bones crumble
Deep beneath the rubble
We find we’ve always had the keys
Our stories and our maps
Our paths are revealed to some
And the seeds grow again
The threads are unspun
And woven again.
by Annie Dieu-Le-Veut
Sometimes people use old myths about faeries, dwarves and wizards to build a cosy, walled cognitive space – in the same way that as children we used to construct camps from blankets and bedspreads in which to hide from the realities of the adult world.
However, the ancient myths were not meant for that purpose and neither are my books, because these deeply rich allegorical tales contain wisdom keys that provide us with ways of meeting the seemingly impossibly difficult challenges of the human condition. These challenges don’t change from generation to generation. The problems that we’re faced with today were also faced by our ancestors thousands of years ago. From the minute we give out that first scream at birth, we’re in a life-and-death struggle between good and evil, whether we realise it or not – and often our adversaries prefer us not to realise it, as they soften us up for the killing blow.
That’s why I chose the archetypal symbol of the sword to begin this series of lessons that make up these mystery teachings, which are based on the stories in my own books and particularly The Grail Mysteries. The last article, Lesson 2, was about the faery woman who raises the sword from beneath the frozen Hart Lake under the stars of Capricorn, and I’ve shown various ways of getting in touch with the faery gold buried within our own frozen emotional pain and forging it into our own Fragarach, the Sword of Truth.
If you have followed my guidance in Lesson 1, you will hopefully have begun the process of diving down deep into the frozen lake of your emotions and using the heat of concentration – through visualisation or shamanic journeying – in the alchemic crucible of your own inner space to release them and bring them to the surface in the form of a faery sword.
In this article, Lesson 2, I will be referencing the image in my book The Grail Mysteries where the woman’s arm wielding the sword appears from beneath the white, frozen Hart Lake, under the stars of Capricorn, to signal the birth of the royal Radiant Child on the winter solstice.
By Annie Dieu-Le-Veut
This article forms the beginning of a shamanic quest for my readers to help them understand and work with the imagery contained within my books that are based on Celtic magic. So if you’ve just stumbled into this Mystery Teachings class, you may want to go to the Introduction first, and then follow the links from there.
Before we start the shamanic or magical work for healing the Wounded Queens with the Thirteen Treasures of Britain, we need to get in touch with what needs healing within us because our power will come from what originally disempowered us. Continue reading
By Annie Dieu-Le-Veut
I hope you like the beautiful wrought gilded chalice gracing the cover of my new book The Grail Mysteries as much as I do. It was commissioned by Abbot Suger of St Denis, France, in the twelfth century, while its sardonyx cup was made in Alexandria in the second century BCE.
Those who know about sacred sex magic will instantly recognise why Abbot Suger’s chalice makes a most appropriate cover for a mythic tale which explores that subject in depth. This chalice is symbolic of the Marriage of the Sun and the Moon, the alchemical operation that is at the heart of the ancient mysteries of the Grail which is about the shamanic form of sex that has always underpinned Sovereignty.
HERE she comes,” muttered Cerridwen, through glinting black diamond teeth, as the dark silhouette of a woman came suddenly into view against the pinkening skies on the horizon, running across the top of an undulating field before vanishing again into the dew-laden deeps of the darkening gloaming.
Cerridwen’s wizened snake’s eyes had been scouring the horizon for hours, while she stirred her cauldron with a long silvery ash stick that was almost as gnarled and twisted as herself.
With one black eye firmly fixed on the ever-duskening fields in the distance as the setting sun began to cast its long creeping shadows, she watched from the corner of the other as the Scorpion goddess constellation slowly rose, glittering like an ice crystal palace against the lapis lazuli celestial vault.
Listen to the whole of the first chapter of The Bright World of the Gods here:
By Annie Dieu-Le-Veut
Who trusted God was love indeed
And love Creation’s final law
Tho’ Nature, red in tooth and claw
With ravine, shriek’d against his creed.
Lord Alfred Tennyson’s In Memoriam A.H.H.
This poem is well worth the read, in it entirety, because it shows the false idea that was in full flood in the 19th century of a Nature that is separate from God, and that is ‘shrieking against his creed’.
This cognitive concept, of the divide between God and the creation to the point that they are enemies was seeded during the Orwellian-named “Enlightenment” period that began a century before this poem was published; if was written today, we would call it psychological propaganda. Continue reading
by Annie Dieu-Le-Veut
This is a real faery story …
The Bright World of the Gods was gifted into my Dreamtime by the spirits of the land that inhabit the other dimensions permeating the Vale of Avalon, in Somerset, England. These spirits are known locally as the Gentle Folk, or the Fae, although you might know them better as faeries. They wanted you to know about them, and so my book is a real faery story about a benevolent Elder race whose role it is to guide the steps of humanity.