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INDEX ABOUT DIRECTORY 'The Sacred Male' : Titling, The Science: 'Pegmatite' Details from "Fortissimo" The Politic: Acculturation 'Habbakuk: The Acculturation of Natural Forces for Earth Peace' 'Tiny White Bells' ( The Sacred Female ) : Symbols, and what they mean to us*. Telemetry and the Aura Cube of Space Toy Just print, clip, and construct. Demons "Portrait of Evil" Understanding aesthetics of the Pia Mater. My Publication: Meeting Ananda Bodhi |
Image and discourse: Lily of the Valley
All young people experience some kind of path moment into the mystery
school- some sort of vision, or perhaps an occult experience.
As you know, occult means "unknown".
I can remember the days I spent on Gothic Avenue in my twenties. It
was a street in High Park, Toronto, full of hip artists, poets and
musicians
When I was twenty three I was asked to take my
turn at the collective experience of collating, editing and illustrating our streets' womens' newsletter for the
month. I had written a poem about an experience
I had, a few months after having met a fabulous man. I associated my
experience with the emotions and sensuality I felt, when with the guy- ('Nick'
, also my Dads' name!) I called the poem: "By You". I also painted my experience
(see left).
I do not know any person who has been born with an innate understanding of what the shaping and colours within the human aura represent, nor the concept that what we may see could be a finer view of the bodys' chemistry. When one is young, the word nucleopeptide, or nucleotide does not roll off the tongue to say that the transactions of the body are identifiable through tuning vision to see a steam (or stream) of these amides as they leave or surround our particular being.
As a young woman, though, I had one little work to which I referred contantly- a book written in Victorian days by Annie Besant and C.W. Leadbetter, with a name like 'The Aura' . As far as I know, there does not seem to be an equivalent in the visual interpretation of the aura from modern times, albeit there is now the science of Kirlian photography. The book had pages and pages of glossy paper filled with tiny squares of colours and patterns, e.g. industrial orange with brown and khaki-green dots in it represented jealousy, and rust-red was entitled "lust".
As a lusty wench in my youth, I frequently saw this particular colour- rust red, in peoples' auras, and it was not until a family Doctor took pity on me to explain that this colour meant "vascular health" , that I realized Victorian concepts did not schmeck, in a modern era!
So, I must bow toward the profession of Medicine , in that the texts or oral tradition, come-what-may, of religious circles, do not progress past the fears and prejudices inherent from more primitive health circumstances. People had to guard themselves from so much, but, in understanding that a person has healthful blood and an active, clean musculature , I doubt whether any person need have felt fright toward what must have been thought of (at the time) as the devil.
An Eastern influence, taken directly from the traditionally decorated head of the Buddha, affected my thoughts re: a spontaneous meditative vision on my own head...
The sculptures of Guatama Buddha often show a helmet of gems, which relates, in my own education, to the image of the early clay figurine, Venus of d'Antilles. The small, rounded, deeply breasted woman figure also shows many gems or spheres around the head area. These images may relate to the spheres of existence in the aura relative to ones' psychic connections, or it may evoke or echo the magic powers of natural kettle drum "cable stations"
Eight miles from Karma i Garchen, a meditation retreat in Northern Ontario, one can often see a large Buddha-figure in the atmosphere, quite clearly. This comes from radon and other factors evacuating or projecting from a large natural kettle.
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In the East, it seems evident that women had come to grips with what an embryo looked like during a certain period of gestation. Ancient Balinese dancers wore elongated false nails, and coloured their clothing and themselves with a rust-red dye.
In their beauteous dancing, they depicted a stage during gestation whenupon the developing human sees nerve potential, as the limbs, nearly established, stretch to an adult size in their own view. Our law claims that the embryo is entirely part of a womans' body, but there must be room for the concept of independent perception from the standpoint of the developing human, if acknowledging the aura of the being becomes a given, retrieved from the antique world of superstition and the occult.
Once, in my meditation on the history of man, I watched an 'original sin' stemming from Middle Eastern prejudices . A small child (2000 years ago) had been told that a rusty or orange red being was the devil. Her mothers' new-born child, was half-ape from an accident, and she could only see it as orangey -red light . The little girl, in terror, had smashed its head in with a rock, thinking this to be a demon. The child was taken in by Rabbis, into a temple with plump, green marble or malachite columns above its ephod, and taught all of the graces, something I am sure that my family has never forgotten since.
Christians and Jews have never believed in taking life, as you know, but fear of whatever is believed to be Satan or the devil exist in the West, as I am sure they do in the East, though perhaps there are now fewer mis-understandings about childbirth. With regard to the concept of the artwork at the top of the page, and especially the linked poem about the experience, in Buddhist teachings a student is told that there is a male bliss, and a female bliss. Buddhism has very strong, definitive divisions between man and woman, yin and yang.
I have often heard that Eastern women have a relatively painless labour. This factor is, at least, food for thought in bio-medical ethics, when the learned in our ladies' circles are considering problems of birth.
Another occasion proved that hypocricy and ignorance still existed amongst enlightened Christians (at least, those who see the aura when they worship). I went to a church for quite a long time, and, one day, I could hear a woman trying to listen in to the sermon, and also see it, through me (I thought). She seemed to be in a wheelchair in her home. I also heard several old women harshly snap at her, calling her Satan. 'Begone! - and leave us', they muttered, sotto voce2, but their fear of her neglected the Christian need in her, since they could see only glossy bales of black light.
Many people have the mis-conception that black light is evil, but I can certainly see from the blackness (aura of pain) that her agony from osteo-porosis was outstanding. I remembered seeing spears or scarves of black light, turning these (in my imagination) into whips and weapons, in my youth. I thought I was seeing the persons' agression.
In this case, after my more adult path-moment, I really feel that greater openness in communication would affect not just the compassion that people seek as they pray , as they make the ritual motions of worship, but the actual health of those suffering individuals who live with chronic agony. Those unaware women may have been contributing to the frustrated worshippers' duress, through the tension their phobias inspired.
2. sotto voce is a Latin word, a term which means speaking under the breath.
Experiences like these are kept quietly within the realm of the telepath or clairvoyant, unless spoken of in mystics' workshops, since there is so much mis-trust, or perhaps lack of discernment, from the medical profession, as to what constitutes seizure or blindness, versus, what may be tuned and controlled as justifiable and seasoned vision.
When I first started to see "auras", in my early teens, the experience was deemed to be a type of epileptic seizure . Sure, it was, since I had not sought the experience, neither had I opened to it quietly in meditation, or during a period of blissful awakening. Instead, I had tobogganed down a hill toward the Don River and had stepped off my craft into 2 1/2 feet of rushing, icy water....... Subsequently, my teen white light experience was actually, "snow blindness"...... I could only see my feet, as they picked a path back up the steep hill. In the top left part of the white light in front of me I could see a picture of my Dads' head. This is why I do not, as a woman, prefer to 'sex' the power of God, using the term "Father", since a concept of a lush who made probably the Words' worse puns would ensue, whenever I thought of "God, the Father".
During the summer of that year, I also suddenly felt the familiar dizziness and smelled the chemistry of an oncoming seizure, upon, of all places, a busy part of Don Mills Road. I was in the centre of the road that had rapid traffic on both sides. It hit me in half a second, offering no warning. I let go, inadvertently, of all the junk food I had devoured the night before, and had to embarassingly sit on the poo during my cab ride home. To me, that was definitely a seizure, but the aura that I could see, simultaneously, made of gorgeous transparencies in blues, golds and greens with some pale violet ,purple and yellow were so attractive to me that my mind could not entirely memorize the whole event as a negative state of health.
I began to read gory books about the occult, and became a science fiction fanatic, staying up most of every night to finish a book per day. This reading stage lasted until I was 22 ( so, 8 years) when I started to take formal meditation courses. During that era, at least mystical bookstores began to flourish, or those of us who try to understand the too-rapidly changing aura would probably still live in the dark ages of superstitious fear, or in the fear of God, instead of its love-flow.
(Please see art of womans' head to top left)
Shortly after embarking upon Eastern meditation courses, I had reached many stages in meditation, very holistically . One of my first visions which seemed a lot more formed, and which I could see in peace was the experience of seeing very tiny white spheres all over my head, like a tight skullcap of pearls, though translucent. I had 'come of age'- our expression for realizing adult sexuality with a man, and was very fit. I took yoga courses twice a week, and prayed or said mantras every day. I had stopped eating sugars, and was an organic health food - oriented vegetarian. I also smoked Js fairly regularly. I smoked only ten or less tiny hand-rolled tobacco cigs a day, too. All of these factors were clearing my vision, not tearing the higher or finer visual experience from me so that my other autonomic responses failed me.
Although I was a working silversmith, and had an AOCA in Material Arts, I actually wasn't that good an artist in drawing and painting . I tried to show an analogy of the way I saw and felt .. ........The rough drawing I have scanned is the clumsy attempt of my youth to show what I perceived to be a state of love and serenity from falling in love with the man of my dreams (at the time!) The feeling that I had from this meditation (also a spontaneous event) was a very slight, but steady popping, all over my brain, in rapid circuits, accompanied with five high bell tones in a music which repeated, and a great feeling of well-being. 'No higher bliss, than female-ness' .
I have always associated Lily of the Valley with love and marriage, and drew my self in watercolour, capped with Lily-of -the Valley. I wrote a poem about it , (see link) and submitted this to the womens paper, when it was my turn to edit.
(Now that I have a computer and graphics programs, rendering this experience,(except for the tender and fresh feeling ) seems almost facile, compared to what we had to work with when I was young, over thirty years ago. I can even produce a .wav, and describe the music pattern that I remember to this day, but adding music tone to this might tend to define something private within my thought patterns. I don't like to be stalked, but I feel that part of this experience is worth sharing.)
This time, Oh Doctors, I had published the poem which accompanied that art in my page for Lily of the Valley in my herb website, along with a photo of the flowering herb, sent to me by my own daughter in law. To my surprise (I guess we all do things in innocence) I could hear a woman defining herself as a psychologist and gay, expecting that I had published the picture, poem and names side by side because of a lesbian experience. In our conversation, she said she knew this sensibility to be a lesbian experience. I suspect that the imagery, delicacy and opening is a moment of fulfillment for the developing sexual hormonal being, but for any type of woman. Since I am not, myself, that attracted to same-sex affairs, I really feel, logically, that this experience may be something universal to women (at least).
I was told by a neurologist that my epilepsy would disappear as I aged,
because my hormonal plan would settle or alter, as of course it does. Working
upon the refinement of the senses in association with estrogen, gonadotropin,
progesterone or testosterone, as well as prolactin and melanon, will, of course
offer a smoother moment of transition through the phases of life.
Meditation and
yoga are a good thing. I have always admired Eastern meditation because of the
method and its clarification in very ancient texts. Although the description of
various mystical events is pretty well as obscure in its definitions in the
Western texts (I am writing of the Upanishads and Vedas by comparison to the
Torah and New Testament, amongst others) once the vision or experience has
occurred, some of the picturesque references make some sense, helping to truly
place or define the sensibility of the event (whether innate or extraneous).
Something lost during the Dark Ages was the open-mindedness necessary for an understanding of some of the events defined as mystical or occult. In the arts, we have often used analogous symbols, leading some to distrust, and others toward romance, but not always, I see, offering the fulmination of the desire to share or to teach about some of these path moments in life.
I perceive a balance between the arts and sciences, which tilts back and forth between understanding life through the creative process, whether via the early Balinese choreography which literally depicts the growth potential of the embryo, the rough sci-fi doodlings of younger and more excitable artists, or from the formulized strictures of scientific discovery.
Since there are people who are sure that photos of man on the moon are a government scam, I can be sure that the equivalent doubting Thomas is out there disputing my self - involvement and spiritual confirmation, so important to others on the path, as if my body were still in helpless seizure. it is very important to me as a career-oriented person, to be able to enjoy a healthier dialectic with the medical profession, since your medical grids for perception have, at tiimes, nearly starved me to death. Ghettoization is a very seriously masked type of social discrimination.
I have studied Theology informally and also formally over a fourty year period. From experience with scientists and medicine, I have felt that my lifeswork and the experience so validated by a hegemony of wise theologians, Doctorates in their own right, has been reduced too often to little more than some impediment or disease that some Doctors believe can be extracted, blotted onto tissue or cotton, and squished into a glass slide!
My protest is not at a close, and I am offering to science the 'notion' that some of the less explained phenomena in human experience are signs of ultra-health, and not of deterioration, disease, and of physic mayhem.
When, later in my arts career, I found that I could paint pretty well, I did try to paint another, similar real vision of my mind. This time, I was in my thirties, and perceived hundreds of translucent, white flower forms puffing out of all columns or from the blood-brain barriers' finer aesthetic affects, at all angles except for one area. This I saw to be a series of tight, green buds above the mid-right sagittal area, all in a triangle*. I painted a sphere of freesia flowers, with the triangle of buds showing, and backed this with gold painted lines and little dew drops on the lines, like elven music forms. I called the painting "World Music".
I suppose that by now, younger MDs are well aware that state-of-mind had very much to do with how healing and realization occur. Thanks to our more united world, I am happy to note that middle-aged to much younger Doctors are, as well, relating to the mystical worlld as naturally as I do myself. Science has welcomed the transcendental as healthful and worthy, choosing often to work with the human organism as a body-mind-spirit, and not just a ghoulish collection of meat, nerves and collagen from a DNA soup. Yuck.
(What I am trying to say is that, this time, for the benefit of that lady psychologist, there is room for interpretation in medicine - a positive experience. Perhaps stages in adulthood are also a healing process, during which we re-establish our adult direction as separate from the goals and vibrations of our parents' day, and into the future of humankind.
Whether or not the lover viewing with what must be urinamide in self-association with magnesium (am I correct- the body taking a close look at its love nature? ) has been male or female, or I male or female, or our lovers of the same or other sex, obviously the experience is gently, to us, the female in awakening.
As for the later version, whether or not there is an impediment (the example of the green triangle showing unopened brain columns) , seeing the aura is a confirmation of its existence which may manifest in beauteous, or even spiritually fulfilling ways. Just as the old ladies in the church made of the poor arthritic a cipher for their own ills and pains, someone out there might have had need of the accented spirit. We all have our woes in life, it's only human. But what these woes offer to us can be a world of grandeur and of magnificence. Look up, sometimes, from the end of the scalpel and from the dust-mites bearing to you an earlier academia.
I would love to collect anecdotes about this from the male kingdom, but no-one ever writes to me, and men usually keep it all in hand in case they can market it someday.
As it happens, my poem (as you see on the website) is in a written copyright work about developing maturity through religious exploration, and I have also tried to market the painting that I made of the second experience.
LINKS BELOW BRING PAGES UP IN SEPARATE WINDOW.