Welcome back to this journey through The Kolbrin.
So, we are currently working our way through The Sacred Registers; and this post will, like the previous two, deal with more of the relatively short chapters (this time, Chapters 7, 8 & 9) that we find in this section of The Book of Scrolls (aka The Book of Books, The Lesser Book of the Sons of Fire, and The Third Book of the Bronzebook).
Now, these three chapters (well Chapters 7 & 9 anyway, Chapter 8 is a strange choice to have been placed between the other two) deal with some serious esotericism – some pretty heavy mojo. This is the point in the narrative where The Book of Scrolls, having already described in previous chapters what faces the soul or spirit after the point of physical death, starts to get into the concept of how to pierce the veil between the worlds of materialism and spirit while still alive! In other words, what is being described in these passages is the process by which a living being can transcend their body, so that everything they experience while in an altered state is taking place in the realm – or plane – of the spirit. Call it an altered state of consciousness, call it astral travelling, call it journeying to the realms of the dead, call it a mind-bending illusory drug trip . . . call it what you like, it’s still bloody interesting – so let’s get on and see what The Kolbrin has to say:
Chapter 7 starts out with the quite startling statement: This is the manner whereby the Aspiring Ones of Earth may cross the dread horizon through residence within the Cavern of Stone. It goes on to warn that the process – or path, as it calls it – is a perilous one, and that, unless you know what you are doing, you could return into your body as a witless cabbage. The Cavern of Stone referred to here, is, no doubt, a specially constructed and specifically dimensioned stone chamber of the type that can be found in so-called ‘sacred’ places all around the world – although given The Kolbrin’s concentration on Ancient Egypt and the Neolithic British Isles, I guess we must assume, for this passage anyway, that the scribe is referring to particularly aligned and meticulously proportioned stone constructions or excavations in those two areas. Stone enclosures have been used since time immemorial for both initiation and experiential ceremonies. The relatively recent astonishing finds at the sites of Göbekli Tepe and Karahan Tepe in modern day Turkey, huge archaeological digs that have pushed back the ‘dawn’ of human civilizational history to 12,000 years ago, appear to contain stone enclosures that seem designed specifically for ceremonies involving initiation or inducing states of altered consciousness. Check it out – the sites are spectacular!
But as far as the British Isles and Egypt are concerned, we are looking at the neolithic stone chambers that can be found all over the British countryside, and the many, many chambers – both underground and enclosed within other structures such as temples and even pyramids – that add to the mystery of Ancient Egypt.
Back to the narrative, and the scribe’s eye pans out and starts to describe the experience of ‘The Aspiring One’ (the initiate about to undergo the process) from a third-party perspective, as if the scribe himself is an actual witness to the whole event.
We are told that The Aspiring One is a living, breathing human being when he takes his place within the stone cavern, close enough to ‘The Cauldron of Rebirth and Regeneration’ to be able to inhale the fumes of what has to be an elixir of seriously powerful druglike herbs. The recipes for this type of brew are, it appears, written down in the formidably named Book of Secret Mysteries, but sadly we are not informed of that tome’s whereabouts. The passage says that the Aspiring One is then ‘lifted on wings of five feathers’ the names of which are also recorded in the mysterious book, and which I reckon must be a metaphor for the five herbs that have gone into the potion. Again, lamentably, no further information of where we can locate such a handy reference guide are forthcoming.
Anyway, this Aspiring One must have been given some training before attempting his ‘trip’ because he has been told that, once in an altered state, he is to travel – or ‘fly’ – in a specific manner: like that of a falcon. Not in the manner of any other bird, but specifically like a falcon. Now, the only real difference that I can see between the way a falcon flies compared with most other birds, is the way it soars, riding air currents in huge circles until it has attained a great height. The ascent is strictly controlled, and it is measured, and it is achieved by being totally aware of everything going on around it – in other words it is conscious, and it is deliberate. And this, I think, is what comprised part of the training that The Aspiring One – or Initiate – had to undergo. He would have been conditioned not to freak out or bliss out as soon as the drugs took hold, but to ascend gradually and in control into the heightened state of consciousness.
And so, the – let’s call it – awareness of the spirit-journeyer slips its earthly ties and loses sight of those appointed to attend his physical body back in the cavern while his consciousness roves elsewhere. The scribe writes that the Aspiring One is now no longer of the Earth. But neither is he yet of Heaven. He has arrived at the between zone. There must be some semblance of awareness of his earthly environment lingering, though, because, apparently, at this stage his body is able to take the next step in the ritual in what sounds like zombie-like fashion as it eats the ‘yellow bread of wide vision’ while drinking a brew of ‘grey barley’, sipping on the ‘wine of harish’, eating the ‘cakes of green brown horris’ and ‘the fruit of the releasing tree’ before, finally, drinking the ‘brew of black fungus which is in the smoke goblet’. This is all heavily ritualistic and seems to follow a very definite ingredient ingestion sequence, all designed to prolong and stabilise the Aspiring One’s ‘trip’. And, again, I feel that this process, this ceremony, would have been drilled into the initiate through heavily inductive training beforehand, which could explain his body’s mechanical functions (almost muscle memory functions) while his head was reaching for the stars.
So, once the tripper’s body was sufficiently prepared and the correct portions of experience-enhancing products (and perhaps others that prevented the seriously narcotic elements tipping the his body and mind over the edge) had been administered, he was laid down by the attendants in a special receptacle called the ‘Womb of Rebirth’. And there he slept, his mind ranging in the ‘Place of Visions’ while his body was tied, immobile, to the Earth.
The sleeping body is then covered so that any muscular activity brought about by what his spirit is experiencing can be controlled, but the mouth is obviously left free because the Aspiring One starts to call out in a strange language to his dead fathers who have passed across before. Soon, though, the sleeping body becomes still as the spirit arrives in a ‘dazzling chamber’ which, we are told, is the ’doorway to twin vision’, obviously the threshold after passing which, the Aspiring One has the potential to see into both worlds: that of the mundane and that of the arcane.
There is some kind of barrier at this point in the experience, described as ‘The Walls of Dry Air’ which must be penetrated for the Aspirant to truly experience the realm of spirit. This must refer to a conscious effort of will to fully transition between zones. I kind of get this bit as it brings to mind a recurring dream I used to have that involved throwing myself off a tower in an arena. It was verging on lucid dreaming, because I had to make a huge mental effort to arrest the fall and swoop back up into the air. It was quite lovely! But I guess the point I’m once again trying to make here is that the Aspiring One must have undergone some really rigorous preparation for this moment of revelation – years perhaps – to ready him for the various steps and obstacles he would have to overcome to achieve the desired result.
The Aspiring One duly rises up through the colourless mundanity of ‘dry air’ and arrives at the radiantly coloured clouds above. He has clearly passed to the next level of his journey because he now has two sets of eyes, described as the “inner” and “outer” sets, although I think this simply refers to the newly acquired ability to see both worlds at the same time, to view and understand what he has so far done in his Earthly existence through the lens of the more eternally-minded spirit. This leads to a widening of his consciousness as all things are seen for what they truly are.
In this heightened state, the Aspiring One follows ‘The Pathfinder’ to the ‘Guardian’ where he gives the correct verbal formula (again a sign of intensive training) to be able to safely pass the ‘Lurker on the Threshold’, after which he reaches the abode of the ‘Opener of the Ways’.
Back in the Stone Cavern, the attendants of the Aspiring One’s physical body are getting a little concerned as the sleeping form becomes coated in sweat and calls out and struggles; but this, too, seems to be part of the ‘experience’ as the spirit form becomes embroiled in a struggle with the ‘Fiends of Darkness’ which it overcomes before beginning the return leg.
The successful struggle against the dark powers seems to be the final obstacle before the Aspiring One is granted a full vision of the glory that is the Eternal Everything. It is beautiful beyond the wildest dream – truly mind-blowing – and worth quoting in the words of the Scribe himself:
A hundred shining suns whirl above, a whisper rolls around like thunder, lights of manifold hues sway above, like the river reeds in the wind. All things appear to dance in a shimmering haze, then turn over and fold back into themselves, and such beauty is produced that the human tongue cannot describe it. All things take upon themselves shimmering forms through which other forms can be seen. Great melodic music throbs all around, while everything pulsates a soft rhythm. The air is filled with voices of unearthly sweetness, glory and splendour are everywhere. Then the Aspiring One awakes.
I love this passage. There is so much meaning latent within it. For me, the bit about forms visible within forms speaks of the eternal dance of energy in this world of ours, the dissolution of all things and their reemergence as other things as their energy is released and then transformed to create something new. The music is the so-called music of the spheres. It is so much more than the – already majestic – ballet of planets, suns, and galaxies around each other; this is the chord of being, the vibration of the All and Everything. There are echoes of Plato, of Pythagoras, of Quantum Mechanics here, but all of these were (and are) attempts at describing facets of one and the same thing. Sometimes, when we are still and at peace and centred, with a little effort we can de-anchor the mind and widen the senses (all of them at the same time). In this semi-trance state, if we really concentrate, we can discern the Veil of Isis at the corner of our vision as it shifts and shimmers in and out of focus, whispering of the potential of all things to become everything else.
Anyway, back to the text, and the Aspiring One has now awoken back in his physical body. After what sounds like a heroic ingestion of hallucinogenic drugs and a mind-bending trip of colossal proportions, he is, understandably, very parched and more than a bit wobbly. But, after a draught of the ‘sweet waters in the cup of forgetfulness’ the soul-journeyer is soon back on his feet. But this man is now different. The voyager into the spirit world has become Enlightened. He has been resurrected in the Cavern of Stone. He is now one of the Twice Born. Chapter 7 ends at this point and we shift down gears as we move onto Chapter 8.
After the deep esotericism of Chapter 7, we encounter a complete change of tone for Chapter 8. This new passage has a beauty all its own, for reasons that will soon become apparent. The words purport to be a supplication of Ilkeb The Stranger who came from The Land of Rising Waters (which we can assume to mean Egypt) under the wings of the Firehawk. This Ilkeb was, writes the scribe, the first of the ‘Scarlet Robed Ones’ (I am assuming some kind of priesthood, possibly proto-Druidic) and the right hand of Glanvanis (possibly a neolithic or Brythonic chieftain). The supplication in this passage – a kind of funerary rite – dates from the time of the scribe’s forefathers and must have been originally in the language of the Egyptians – ‘The Language of the Seafarers’ – because the scribe says that nobody in the area in which he lives still speaks it.
The reason I like this passage so much is because it is written on behalf of the unremarked upon ones, those amongst us who are not famed for deeds of great renown or known for great learning or wealth. This is a paean to the everyday good people of this Earth, to people who are honest and forthright and loving and kind, who harm nothing and protect everything. Such people, says the scribe, create souls just as shining, just as beautiful as those of even the greatest heroes.
The supplication was made by Ilkeb The Stranger on behalf of one Milven, daughter of Mailon, after she died. It is composed in the manner of the rites of the Sons of Fire and so has a heavy Egyptian flavour to it. Somebody called Ardwith kept the original before it was translated at a place called Korinamba into the form that the scribe is using. And this is how it goes (In my words, of course):
Ilkeb’s petition addresses the beautiful shining being who greets newly passed souls in the place Beyond the Western Horizon, and he extolls Milven’s purity of soul, her modesty and womanlike qualities (and let’s remember, here, before we go any further, that if the texts that comprise The Kolbrin are truly as ancient as they claim to be, then what constituted the perfect woman, quality-wise, back then was a lot more ‘conservative’ than modern considerations – so we have to cut Ilkeb The Stranger a little slack if his concept of the ‘perfect woman’ sounds a little ‘dated’ to modern ears).
Ilkeb asks that Milven be washed and purified in the waters of life by the nine attendants and clad in ‘garments of decency’ because she is a ‘womanly woman’ (see, I did warn you). He requests that the ‘Great and Glorious One’ enfold Milven in her falcon wings and, in her own womanly grasp, take Milven’s hand (so, I am guessing that this female being is Isis, who is often depicted with hawk-like wings). Ilkeb tells Isis that Milven has ‘followed the tedious ways of womankind’, has endured hardship and affliction with patience and – and this is a lovely bit – has ‘made her home hearth a place of peace and content’.
Ilkeb then lights the incense that will waft Milven on her way. It is, he says, good incense, from the land of Gwemi, which sounds like either a place known to the ancient Egyptians or one of the stop-off places that Ilkeb’s folk visited on their voyage away from Egypt.
Only at this point in his supplication does it become clear that Milven was, in fact, Ilkeb’s wife. His words become plaintive and haunting, speaking of his pain when he visits the site of her earthly remains, remembering with love all her little ways, and telling her that she is not alone because his own heart is forever entwined with hers. He addresses her directly now – O dutiful wife and loving mother – asking her spirit form to inhale the smoke from the burning incense so that she may transcend and, free at last from her earthly toils and tests, rest in peace for ever, clad afresh in radiant light and the jewels that are the spiritual reward of a life well-lived.
Ilkeb goes on to describe the ethereal beauty of Milven’s new life in The Land Beyond the Veil, before coming out with the passage that I think makes this chapter so special: O happy one who enhanced earthly life with your presence, this is your reward. Many have done mighty things, but you have served with constancy and diligence, adding the small grains of goodness to the pile of merits until it exceeded in weight the great things done by others. We hail you, O victorious one! Wow! Not a dry eye in the house. I think that is truly lovely – the thought that simply being a good, responsible, decent human being is just as, if not more, mighty than being an occasional doer of great deeds.
Ilkeb’s lovely paean on behalf of his beloved Milven ends with a vision of her, now reunited with her kohar and grown in loveliness that matches the beauty of her inner self, dwelling amongst the Chosen where she can now function as an Opener of the Way for those of her bloodline. Lovely that chapter, wasn’t it?
And so, onto Chapter 9, in which we revert to the Mysteries of the Twice Born, those individuals brave – or foolhardy – enough to want to pierce the Veil and attempt the trip between the realms of the living and the dead.
The language is very foreboding, referring to the journey between worlds as ‘the false death which many do not survive’. Oh dear! Those who dare to pass this way, writes the scribe, will have had a hefty swig of something called Koriladwen, which is described as a smooth and bitter brew that has the power to slip the spirit from its earthly bounds. They will have entered Ogofnaum (possibly this particular scribe’s name for The Otherworld) through ‘the thundering doors’. And this is what happens next:
The human seeker after knowledge enters the ‘Cavern of Vision’ where various Guides and Watchers have been placed, presumably to keep an eye on things.
The ‘Brilliant One’ (and the text is not clear whether this refers to the human seeker or a spiritual entity) is there alongside a being called ‘The Reciter’ whose job, it would appear, is to give the Aspirant a running commentary on what he is looking at. This Reciter is obviously impressed by the bravery of the Aspirant, calling him stout-hearted and ‘Syoltash to be’ (whatever that means), and informs him that the visions he is seeing are the same as those who have attempted this journey before and returned safely back to Earth. But The Reciter impresses upon him that those who have successfully managed the feat in the past have been wise men, steeped in mystic lore – well-trained adepts in other words.
Some mystic mumbo-jumbo follows, with the Aspirant’s (we’ll call the human that from now on in) gaze being directed at various visions. First, he is shown a light and a dark star, a binary system, one of which he must choose to accompany him on his journey. The stars have something to do with the Aspirant’s ability to find his way back to his Earthly anchor. Each star has its champions who follow either light or darkness, and the Aspirant must decide which to follow, with the caveat that the choice must be made ‘according to the law of affinity’ otherwise the Aspirant will be lost. This is a bit of a weird passage, but I am guessing it means that the Aspirant must truly know his own nature and act accordingly if he is to successfully navigate between worlds.
Next, he is shown a dark pool representing life on Earth while far above is a radiant light that represents the ‘manifestation of The One True God’; but it is important to note that the light is that God’s energizing power and not the God itself. Darting rays are described as ‘the gods’ (with a small g) but they are, says the scribe, only distortions and reflections. What I think he means here is that mankind’s perception of the godhead is very much an artificial human construction and bears no real resemblance to the true glory of the real thing. The Aspirant’s gaze is also directed to a rain of sparkling motes. These represent souls that ’fall’ from the beautiful light above – the energizing force that powers All and Everything – and come into earthly being in the darkness of the pool below.
There is more imagery for the Aspirant to take in: Clouds of misconception that cause humankind to distort its perception of the godhead, fed by Delusion and Illusion. But there is also a stream of clear water – The Truth – which can wash away the mud of falsehood.
The Aspirant is also shown an example of a newly disembodied spirit that has not yet merged with its kohar, while, far off, there is a much greater brightness which represents the Kohar of Kohars, but neither the Aspirant nor we are told anything more about that as it is something that is apparently beyond our comprehension.
Off to the Aspirant’s left is a wall of flame, behind which are doomed spirits that were once living humans. The Reciter tells the Aspirant that those damned souls actually judged themselves (interesting, that bit, as you’d think that a little contriteness might have worked in their favour) and then reminds us – for some reason that is not readily explained – that dark can’t change to light but when light comes into dark, the darkness ceases to exist.
Further up on the Aspirant’s left-hand side is a kind of colour-coded shadow-play of life on Earth, with flickering lights representing occasional moments of joy, and darker areas where pain and suffering are rife. Anger and strife flash up as red, while love and compassion are a bluey-white.
Now the Aspirant is told to look ahead, to the bright ‘Region of Lightness’, the abode of those who have successfully made it to the afterlife, and it is they who welcome any newcomers recently departed from their earthly remains. A roadway, wreathed in stars rises up before the Aspirant, the path that all ‘Risen Ones’ must tread.
To the Aspirant’s left is what The Reciter calls the ‘Mouth of Earth’, some kind of abyss, although this seems to be a metaphor for a summary of the Aspirant’s time alive so far. This ‘Mouth of Earth’ gives the Aspirant a tally of his life to date – the good and the bad bits – and he is warned by The Reciter that if he does not pass muster at this critical point on his journey into the spirit world, then he will be unable to continue. In other words, the Aspirant is being judged whether he is actually worthy of carrying on. If he is not, the consequences are dire because he will not be able to turn back without encountering the ‘Foul Lurker in Darkness’ which will deprive the Aspirant of his senses and return him to his body a witless cabbage.
Should the Aspirant be deemed worthy to continue, the abyssal ‘Mouth of Earth’ will close, and he may pass onwards to the Pools of Wisdom and Purification, where he must bathe and eat fruit from the trees that grow to the Aspirant’s right (note that the bad things are on the left, the good on the right) which will nurture his spiritual growth. There is also another warning about how earthly qualities, acts, even thoughts, translate on this otherworldly plane into their corresponding spiritual equivalents.
The next obstacle about which the Reciter warns the Aspirant, and which comes after the pools and the fruit, is a ladder that leads up a cliff face. The ladder motif has been used allegorically in previous chapters as a handy image to depict how our previous thoughts and deeds on Earth can support (or not) our spiritual ascent. In this example, the vertical supports are experience in the body and experience in the spirit (this ladder is called the ‘Ladder of Experience’ by the way) and the rungs represent Earthly deeds, thoughts, and fantasies. The Reciter adds that at the peak of the ladder waits the Aspirant’s kohar on which he can call for assistance. But there’s a catch, because if the Aspirant has not led a life in which he has chalked up a stockpile of good karma and spiritual goodies in his kohar, then the kohar will be an empty shell and there will be no assistance from that quarter.
Assuming, then, that the Aspirant has been a good enough person to ascend the ladder, he will reach a plateau, at which point The Reciter delivers a lecture about the nature of the All and Everything. There is nothing too new in the Reciter’s exposition about how everything came into being – we’ve heard most of it, or stuff very similar to it – before: The eternal Firmament was initially worked upon by an energy wave – the scribe describes it as a ‘Ray from the Sun of God’ – until the coming into being of spirits necessitated that the Firmament be divided into light (spiritual) and dense (matter) zones. But not all spirits were beings of light (goodness) so the spiritual zone itself was divided into one region for the good spirits and one for the bad ones. Furthermore, each zone – light and dark – had a kind of sliding scale; the light one had areas of dazzling white through to a dim glow, and the dark one from black shadow to the shade of twilight.
The larger demarcation in the Firmament, that between matter and spirit (or earthly life and afterlife), is marked by a veil, or barrier if you like, that can only be penetrated at physical death or, as in the case of the Aspirant and other Initiates, by consuming heroic quantities of hallucinogenic drugs. According to The Reciter, after each spirit sheds its mortal coil and pierces the veil, as it were, it ends up in that category of light or darkness to which its earthly deeds have given it a certain compatibility. Once allotted to its rightful category, or area, the presence of the spirit ‘increases’ that area’s size. It’s a bit like those things you see at promotions in supermarkets where each shopper is given a token or counter at checkout and is told to drop it into any one of a number of containers each of which represents a certain cause or charity, the idea being that the container with the largest number of tokens at the end of the promotion receives the donation, or prize, or whatever.
There is one observation, though, that I’d like to make at this point in the scribe’s narrative, and it is that the system described here would imply that the larger an area or zone becomes, the more influence it has on the whole. So, if this Firmament is an enclosed system with a finite amount of energy in the form of spirits to go around, there must be some process of reallotment or reallocation of that energy so that no single zone becomes so large that it perpetually dominates the others. I am guessing that the reallotment process is reincarnation of some description, so that spirits are continually recycled back into the zone of matter (earthly life) as a means of keeping the energy in its natural state – that of entropy followed by transformation. Unfortunately, neither the scribe nor The Reciter follows this really interesting passage up, so we are left feeling a bit uninformed.
Moving swiftly on, The Reciter reminds the Aspirant about the interconnectedness between the earthly body and the kohar and how the latter reflects, on the spiritual plane, the deeds and thoughts of its earthbound twin, before leading him to a rather macabre tableau in which a sleeping serpent guards what sounds like (the English is rather garbled) a tree the bole of which comprises the backbone of a man the rest of whose body hangs suspended from it. The whole thing – serpent, tree, man – is, I think, meant to represent the three centres of a human being, the physical, emotional, and intellectual, all of which must somehow be mastered and overcome in order to awaken the spiritual entity within.
At least that’s what The Reciter seems to infer when he likens the spiritual ‘awakening’ to a gem, with the warning that, unless it is carried out correctly and effectively, madness and delusion could be the result. Only the Twice Born – the Adepts, the Initiated – says, The Reciter, can truly obtain the ‘gem’.
As we approach the end of Chapter 9, the Reciter’s advice becomes somewhat cryptic as he gives the Aspirant a potted recap of all that must be learned and done before the journey between worlds can be attempted. I don’t know what on Earth he’s going on about here, so I’ll reproduce the steps in order:
An Aspirant must have knowledge of the eight roads along which he must travel to reach the ‘Land of the Westerners’. The eight roads will take him to the twelve first portals leading to the ‘Land of Shadows’. At that point, The Reciter will recite the twenty-two deeds of wickedness that the Aspirant has not done (eh? I Am assuming this is to demonstrate that the Aspirant is free of any really bad karma). From there, the Aspirant will pass through the Land of Shadows as if he had physically died and come to the Great Portal where he must convince the Great Guardian that he has done his utmost to live according to the twelve virtues (sorry, we are not told what they are). From there, it’s through another portal to the Hall of Judgement where the Aspirant’s light, what he truly is, is revealed and compared with the words he has spoken about himself earlier – for the words we utter, writes the scribe, do not always reflect what is written in our hearts. If the Aspirant passes this test, he may cross to the Place of Assessment where his true self is revealed to all.
At this point, the journey between worlds, or drug trip, or both, ends. The doors between the worlds slam shut, darkness descends, and the Aspirant wakes up, limbs aching, back in his own body. He has acquired knowledge and learned truths impossible to experience on Earth. Now he truly knows. What was Faith is now Certainty. He has joined the ranks of the Initiated Ones.
So, what about those three chapters, then? And did we learn anything from them? I guess the first thing is that achieving a state of altered consciousness is certainly possible – both with and without the use of drugs; although, for the ancients anyway, the use of hallucinogenic herbs to induce visions and a feeling of ‘nearness-to-God’ was extremely common – a well-trodden short cut to a euphoric encounter with your maker. Whether that type of encounter was a ‘genuine’ spiritual experience or simply a mind-blowing chemical reaction in your brain, is another question. Or maybe they are one and the same thing? There are other ways to induce so-called out-of-body journeys, ways that do not involve pharmaceuticals or drug-like herbs, but these too, just like with the Aspirants in the chapters we’ve just looked at, demand a hell of a lot of preparation and work on oneself before they should be attempted. The Kolbrin will have a lot more to say about Adepts and Aspirants and those it likes to call the Twice Born as we continue to work our way through it but, for now, proceed with caution, and, if you are going to go tripping out, then please make sure that, just like the ancients, you’ve got your ‘sober driver’ on hand to keep an eye on you in case things start to go wrong.
As far as self-help aspects of the three chapters covered above are concerned, we need look no further than the lovely Milven, a human being whose basic decency and love flowed out from her to touch upon everyone and everything she encountered. There are some people out there who are so intrinsically good and selfless and generous spirited that we cannot help but respect and love them. They never seem to get bogged down in petty spitefulness or name calling, never have a bad word to say about anyone, and are first at your door when help is needed. They are the world’s unsung heroes and heroines – beautiful, glowing souls all – and I, for one, admire them greatly. We may not be able to match these Shining Ones, not yet anyway, because life has a habit of chucking us curveballs designed to enflame our passions and emotions and make us behave badly. But we can try.
So, when we next feel ourselves getting riled up by that bratty relative, that irksome, gossipy colleague, that unfair and undeserved treatment at the hands of others, let’s just stop for a moment. Let’s stop and pause and think on the lovely Milven (and others like her), this lady who died so long ago who made her home a place of safety and love and peace. And, having reflected for a moment or two, let’s refuse to allow the red mist of anger and revenge to descend.
Passions like anger and hatred are destructive. But they can also be a tool if you are prepared to put in the effort and use them as such. Don’t let them control you – you control them! Channel those emotions because they do contain energy, but then use that energy and turn it into something good. It takes practice, but it does work. And when you learn the trick and you master it and are able to smile and walk away and learn from what has just happened without retaliating, then that is power, then you are the winner, and, trust me, it feels so damned good!
OK, that’s it for this instalment. In the next post, I’ll be dealing with the (very short) chapters 10, 11 & 12 in which the tone changes yet again. I hope to see you all there.
