de Grandis Revisited, Imaginaries, Shaping

I did deG’s invocations of the SG and—well, that felt good enough that I did it two or three times. Afterwards, I tranced and went through the door again, to the Shores. Once there, I aligned, dancing in the blue rainbow faentaur and that also felt fantastic. It was night/dusk/pre-dawn, and I called T and headed to the spring I’d found, and then, after drinking some, I rode to [my place].

It is much the same as in the Dark Wood (which is less “dark” in my designation than a darker shade of bark and denser than the light woods that led from the path to the glade to the Dark Wood), but the tower in the Dark Wood is squatter and lacks a throne hall looking out to a balcony, looking out towards the sea or woods, the Coastal Forest. I went into the study/library on the first level—there’s a long disused kitchen and pantry—and up the narrow, square stair to the chambers and throne room. The throne was stout wood with wooden frame and armrests, red cushioned back and seat cushion. I sat and I felt—curiously excited and invigorated. The place had been dark, but I conjured some fire, lit a torch, and another conjured flame to light a brazier in the throne room. I otherwise verbally claimed [my tower], well—reclaimed it—and I felt very—well, energized, magical, and so on. I sat in the throne for a bit, and I was struck by the similarity of the balcony there and the balcony I write this while sitting upon now. More the resonances, for the scenes are different, but I noted the settings’ similarities.

I grew tired, and I lacked food and more at the tower. So I made to leave, grabbing a big volume from the library, stowing it in T’s saddle bag on my way out. I rode back and returned.

A thought I had while on the edge of waking up is that I realized I was imagining a “dream”—or daydreaming with enough clarity to see it like a dream, but it was indoors, in a facility—and I realized I could try more guided visualizations for the kinds of environments I wanted—outdoors. But my mind, at that point, seemed more drawn to the institutional than I wanted. However, that’s something to try. I’ve also grown lax about my acts of power before bed and after awaking.

I read Pretty Deadly last night, but I’m not sure what’s going on in the subtext per se at the moment.

deG makes it plain that if you need to imagine the Goddess to feel Her presence, to get your mind closer to the attention you want to sense the Otherworlds, then do so. There’s an active, projective (but immersive) element to that action. Also, it occurs to me that when deG says “Our Gods” she means, partly, our gods but also, in part, our personal gods, our higher selves/HGA/etc.

Xianity and other faiths sought to either fashion an egregoric entity—as people twisted their Selves into the “right” shape and added it to the collective pot, under the guidance of the priest—or we invested our personal angels and gods (Elohim?) into some pre-existing entity, Mountain God and the various faces of divinity we’ve experienced. Gave our Selves to some spirit, godling, thought-god, egregore—at least until we reclaim it and choose what to do.

deG encourages looking at the Worlds, at elthil, at reality etc. as sexual—imaginative, creative, procreative—in nature. The winds make love to us, and the trees hold us. Right now, she’s focusing on nature for its contrast for most of her readers, but the urban landscape has this, as well.

Tonight I rited, moving into relaxation and meditation, and I grew aware of how I felt I was here and in the glade—the candle and the bonfire, the Morrigan’s Presence. My Presence. As I soaked this in, She leaned in and asked, “Can you see?”—and I found myself startled by Her voice and question, mostly, I think because I could see and hear. And I had not expected to do so.

I found myself asking—as I seemed to straddle and Bridge—if this experience were “physical,” and She said something about it “bleeding” into the Actual, into the Earth realm, and I had a realization—

—I had earlier tentatively pulled own the blue rainbow faentaur/elthil—the Octarine?—the blue fire and etc., investing myself and trying to accept myself as a part, extension, birth of the SG—

—I had also been reminded of moving, kinesthetic aspects of immersion/trance/projection, and I tried to draw on this tonight—

—She told me that reality, Earth, the Otherworlds, and myself—I had to shape them all, was shaping them, and it occurred to me to call down the blue into this place, into the space, to call down elthil, ôl-vala into myself and into this realm, to bridge and to bleed the Dream of the Otherworlds into myself and here. What helped besides this was seeing/imagining the Goddess’s bare feet, the hem and end of Her robe, behind me and to the right, and seeing the scene (and others—the Dark Wood, for example) askance, almost out of the corner of my eyes. I called down the ôl-vala and let myself bridge, immerse, change, shape, see, imagine—

—at points, I’d lie on my side, a bit spent. She put a hand on my arm, and the touch was jarring—in part for the attention of the touch, but also because I’m so touch-starved

—I saw Athene briefly. I thanked Her and the Morrigan for their help.

—I used __________ to help stabilize, and I tried to slide into the shaping and experience, despite the temptation to withdraw and feel overwhelmed/convulsive. Being aware of my body helped, and allowing—immersing my body, attention, etc. into what I/We we[re] trying to do seemed to help, as well.

I had tried to imagine actively Her, and I also did K at one point. I did so with Her early on.

The Otherworlds are always already here, but I/we ignore them, don’t see or allow ourselves and them to get close. The two can bridge and bleed into each other, and this process can be a gradual one. This gradualness, the Morrigan seemed to imply, carries both a natural “That’s how it works” as well as almost a sense of inevitability.

Calling down the blue into the space calls to mind Morph’s vision of the Tuatha at the temple at PantheaCon—coils of elthil and Presence anchored in a place.

The sound of the Tibetan drums seemed to slow and deepen in pitch at points of my trance awareness—

The strong sense of arting, writing my way into and out of the Otherworlds came strongly to me at points.

I had also taken two Valerian before I started.

The paths to the Otherworlds are there, mentally and otherwise. I cast myself there and spelled my typical night invocations, but I also remembered visualizing natural scenes. Tall grassy fields came to mind, but so did the Dark Wood and the Coastal Forest.

Image: Pumpkin spider, Araneus trifolium and its web with fog droplets, San Francisco, USA. by Brocken Inaglory


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