Friday, 28 March 2008

From here on in . . .

this could go one of two ways. I will be working in Portmsmouth for the next couple of months on secondment within the same company but a different office. I will be in a hotel most of the time with very little to keep me entertained (i refuse to get sucked into watching television again), i will have sporadic internet access.

Either I will use the nights to write like a demon and then post it up when I have access OR I wont write anything on here until June.

Mind you, it will be a good time to crystalise the thoughts and ideas floating about inside my head concerning the British Mysteries, Mochon, personal devotion work etc.

Tuesday, 25 March 2008

once again with vigour

Everything we could consider part of a native British Mystery Tradition is long dead and forgotten, whatever secrets they had haven’t been spoken of in centuries. The experiences of their gods and their ‘dealings’ will probably never be felt again. As depressing as this is, we still have the names of these gods – or titles at least, as most seem to be – and know something of their character. This bare minimum is a foundation and a starting point, a place where many people can begin the contact and start to share experiences with the aim of rebuilding the bridge to the otherworld once again.

What is the value of any Mystery Tradition for that matter? Why does it need to be secret? Why not be publicly disseminated?

I could have been told the Mysteries of Wicca up until now, though they would not have had the same effect as they did from being there in front of me in the way they were. Having seen this happen three times now from three perspectives has le to three different experiences. I don’t doubt for one moment that the next time will have a subtly different effect too. I guess that’s where the power lies: the witnessing and the being part of the mystery. Being the proper person, properly prepared and taking part and enacting it or seeing it all unfold there in front of me.

I think that’s the key - being part of it rather hen reading it in a book, in order to get to that stage you have to be ready, prepared etc which of course tends to require some sort of screening and preparation – teaching and some sort of initiation. Not everyone can be a doctor – you have to undergo the screening and training most can’t do it and those few who can get to have the Dr. in front of their name and the other trappings.

So what would constitute the mysteries within a Brythonic tradition?

No idea really. A few idea come to mind but then those only do so because they jar so strongly with ‘conventional knowledge’ of the deities and form a core of my personal understanding of the gods that it makes me wonder if this is some lost secret comprehension that needs bringing back to modern Brythonic types. That is of course arrogance of behemothesque proportions. Added to that I have started to post on these matters on my website and Caer Feddwyd, this kind of invalidates the issue. Of course I need to know of I’m on to something which requires me sharing my thoughts and experiences with other likeminded people and hence I am disseminating these would be mysteries. For now the way is to continue sharing and comparing individual experience and keep coming up with these independent common points, for every one that arises it points to a new piece of very big and complicated jigsaw, where that piece will go is something will come with time and patience.

So what would the value of a reinvented British Mystery Tradition be?

Now that I think of it, now, at this time and place there is no value. There are far too few people involved in this ‘scene’ in the first place and I value their input, advice and experience to the point where keeping my own findings secret from them is absurd. I need them to be there to talk to about this and to deliberately cut them off and ask for commitment to a mystery tradition is damn fucking rude and stupid. Then again there are always those who will pay a few quid for ‘Mysteries’. Maybe I could move to the USA and make my fortune?

Sunday, 23 March 2008

Brythonic Mysteries?

I have been giving this some thought today, Wicca is a mystery tradition and as such has certain mysteries within it that you witness at the appropriate time. Such mystery traditions existed in the classical world: the Eleusinian Mysteries being the one that springs to mind most prominently. Then of course you have cults such as that of Mithras which also had specific mysteries. A key thing is that these mysteries had to be experienced rather then be explained or talked about, presumably because the effect was in the experiencing, something i can certainly relate to with respect to Wicca.

So, i got to thinking abut what might be called the British or Brythonic mysteries. One I'm told I'm on the track of was with regard to Aranrot; I mentioned some 'thoughts' to someone more experienced and knowledgeable on the matter and he said i was on my way to figuring out one of the British Mysteries. I have ideas about it but haven't yet gone further down that line of inquiry either with him or Aranrot.


So I got to thinking about the value of what the mysteries could be, especially considering that there is unlikely to be some sort of larger cult forming in the foreseeable future. So, one option would be to explain them whether in print or digital format. Alternatively lead people to the experience directly - though this is VERY limiting in the sense that there might not even be a pool of people willing to do this, also, do you lead just anybody and everybody to the experience?

Then of course - what ARE the mysteries?

Dinner needs doing so I will have to come back to this.

Monday, 10 March 2008

These Three Ladies...

...are a go then. How I am to approach this I have yet to work out, though I suppose not doing on my own would be wise. I have the resources there to be called upon so I guess i should do so.

Now with a free week in the month as mentioned it leave open the chance for the beginning of devotional work with another deity. The one on mind is Mochon - the new old God. Or something like that. I have a lovely pig skull coming at the end of the month, unlike the poor horse skull at the top of the stairs (to maraud visitors) I will have to see about bleaching it bit in sunlight before doing something. what that something is remains to be seen though i would like to get things in motion by the summer at the latest.

anyway, feeding time.

Sunday, 2 March 2008

The White Road

extract from 'The White Road'

And when her grave was dug –
A small hole it was, for she was a little thing,
Even big with child she was a little thing –
He walked below her back and forth,
Rehearsing her hearsing, thus:
good evening, my pigsnie, my love,
my, but you look a treat in the moon’s light,
mother of my child-to-be. Come, let me hold you.
And he’d embrace the midnight air with one hand,
And with the other, holding his short but wicked knife,
He’d stab at the dark.

She trembled in her oak above him. Breathed so softly,
But still she shook. And once he looked up and said,
Owls I’ll wager, and another time Fie! Is that a cat
Up there? Here puss… but she was still,
Bethought herself a branch, a leaf, a twig. At dawn
He took his mattock, spade and knife and left all grumbling and gudgeoned of his prey.

They found her later wandering, her wits
had left her. There were oak leaves in her hair
and she sang:

The bough did bend,
The bough did break
I saw the hole
The fox did make
We swore to love
We swore to marry
I saw the blade did carry


I have been reading a lot of Neil Gaiman lately - excellent stuff. one of his prose poems that i read in 'Smoke and Mirrors' stood out:

This section stood out as something that rang with Blodeuedd, the betrayal and revenge though a complete reversal of the myth we have left. Then there is the short story called the "Daughter of Owls": a baby girl is found in a church porch with an owl pellet in her hand. she is thought to be a witch or somesuch and as such she is kept away from the villagers in an old abandoned house. Only the women of the town go there to feed her. after some planning and plotting, the men of the village decide to go en masse and avail her of her virginity, they break in and after much screeching and hooting they disappear and are never seen again, likewise the Daughter of Owls. Again, a nice little devil-bird tale. Actually i dont like the devil bird phrase but it 'fits', the outcast and maligned female who was nothing but her open sexual and strong self.