Following the Broken Lines of Earth to Brentor #leylines #albion #middlegradefantasy

On July 22, 2018January 11, 2022 By Alethea KehasIn Gaia & Elementals, Memoir, Reflections, the labyrinth, Travel Adventures, Warriors of Light9 Comments

“The ley lines, lad. The ley lines. The lines of light in Earth. Some call them dragon lines. They haven’t been right for quite a long time now. Clogged by darkness. Broken by greed. I’m a mess. But then again, that’s nothing unusual these days. The entire planet is filled with broken lines and clogged pores, you might say. But you’re here to help fix that. So much work to be done. You best get started.” — Albion speaking to Ari, Book 2: Warriors of Light

“When we saw the cover of your book, we knew you had to be here,” Sue confided after I arrived for the June 2018 Silent Eye School of Consciousness workshop. The hexagram started appearing to me before I enrolled with the school and even before I met Sue through the wonderful world of blogging. Sue, though, has been my primary human guide as I navigate this sacred symbol and others.

Labyrinth_MainImage_Small — From the cover of my new book, *The Labyrinth*. Book 1 of the *Warriors of Light* series

The mystical hexagram seems to defy time and language, appearing throughout history and prehistory on Earth, as well as in the alignment of heavenly bodies. As above, so below. It unites the male and female aspects of ourselves and the “world” at large. Six years ago, I realized this symbol was asking to take form upon the pages of the book I had begun to write. Appearing in a grove of oaks, it looked like a maze of broken light. As I wrote, allowing myself to be led by the unseen force of the higher consciousness, I came to realize that lines of energy exist in the Earth and within us as the life force energy that is the “Light of Life” itself.

Ancient symbols predating religion appeared throughout the churches we visited during the June workshop.

And so it was no surprise that I was drawn to the workshop before I even knew why. The hexagram, leading the way. There was the hexagon around the Cerne Abbas giant, which aligned with the stars above. Orion mapping the inner and outer-landscape at each site we visited. Seven churches forming a star with an inner point of light. And, dragon lines running through it all, guiding present and long forgotten footeps.

“In the middle of the hexagon is the source of the golden light, but there are a million paths to get there. I don’t know how to explain it exactly. It’s like a spider’s web. There are smaller lines of light, like veins on a leaf, which fill the large star we share, all leading to the center.” — Sula, The Labyrinth, Book 1: Warriors of Light

I’m not sure I’ll ever be wholly or holy comfortable in a church. Although I admire their outer beauty, there is a rigidness to their structures that constricts my cells. An old church sits atop Brentor in England. Dedicated to St. Michael, it resides along his ley line. Inside the church, which still feels very solid and powerful in form, there is a stained glass window of the saint who is often seen in other churches slaying a dragon. Not so here.

Instead, the dragon lies dormant below him. The mound of earth itself, having erupted with its fire energy thousands of years before. It is no wonder I was not comfortable within these fortified walls. Although the saint here looks a bit wild and paganish with his feathered attire, his visage is fierce as he looks down upon the land with his sword poised for striking. His skirt wears the eyes of the peacock. Is there a bold defiance in this image inside a church that has laid claim to the land?

Stuart and Sue explore the top of Brentor. Sue blends into the fortification, while Stuart gazes into the landscape.

The gargoyles here do not appear on the roof of the stone building, but in the guardian stone itself, which sits, placed by Nature one presumes, at the base of the hill.

There is not just one face in this Guardian Stone filled with protective gargoyles.

I like this stone, as I do most stones that feel like there is a living presence within them. They often feel like friends, and when approached with trust and an open heart, they have much to share. Eyes are often drawn to them without always knowing why.

The jagged rock of the guardian stone mirrors the tor it guards. Born of fire and earth, it is a hybrid of forces that feel unbalanced. I cannot help but think of Glastonbury Tor, so different from Brentor with its elegant conical shape, which to me feels very feminine, yet powerfully in control and aligned with the sacred heart. I do not recall seeing a guardian stone when I was there two years ago. Just ewes with their spring lambs dotting the landscape with the energy of rebirth and the promise of a resurrected heart filled with Christ-consciousness for those who wish to ascend its summits.

My daughter poised for flight atop Glastonbury Tor, filled with exhilaration.

Brentor, in contrast, seems to represent a struggle of forces. As though the the battle between Earth and Man has yet to be won. Its church is largely intact, and dominates its summit, unlike the solitary tower that remains rather elegantly atop Glastonbury. Beautiful and non-threatening. Yet, is there really a victory to be won here?

Despite the masculine feel of Brentor, it is guarded by Hathor’s animal.

The giant that lies under St. Michael’s church at Brentor may be latent at present, but history has taught us that we cannot conquer forces that are greater than ourselves, because these forces also reside within us, unbalanced. When we disrupt the energies in Earth, as we are doing now, She responds to our unease. When will we learn?

A sacred stream runs through the body of the land below Brentor.

Water, like fire, runs through the veins of Earth. Nearby the base of Brentor, there is a small stone enclosure that appears to mark a sacred stream. Unlike Glastonbury, this one is mostly hidden, and there is no urging of tourists to gather. Yet, there it is filled with hope, carrying the blood of life through the land.

A Reclaimed Forest At the Edge of Dartmoor #dartmoor #ancientengland

On July 19, 2018December 12, 2021 By Alethea KehasIn Animal Messengers, Gaia & Elementals, Reflections, Travel Adventures11 Comments

After the formal portion of the June 2018 workshop with the Silent Eye School of Consciousness had concluded, my traveling companion and I hopped into our rental car and headed toward Tavistock to continue our adventures with Sue and Stuart. Whereas they had opted to take the winding, more adventurous route through Dartmoor, we ~~wimped out~~ braved the major roads.

If I could have done it over again, though, I would have taken the long way in the hope of getting a little lost, but more about that in the next post. If you visit the link to Sue and Stuart above, you will get an idea as to why.

Instead, Larissa and I had a rather uneventful drive into Tavistock. Thankfully, Larissa’s phone navigation landed us perfectly at our very remote, but incredibly charming B&B, Lee Byre, which sits on the outskirts of Dartmoor and has a perfect view of Brentor , where we would be meeting up with Sue and Stuart the following morning.

Larissa posing for a picture inside our cosy accommodation at Lee Byre

We arrived at Lee Byre through a narrow gateway of rocks (I wish I had taken a photo), whose chins jutted within inches of our compact car, and down an even more narrow hedgerow at least double the height of our vehicle. Here we were greeted with another gateway, this one fashioned out of wood, which opened to a carpark near our lodging. Here we were greeting by the resident hens.

The resident hens were quite intent on hitching a ride with us.

I could not have envisioned a more perfect place to stay, and as I told Larissa more than once, “I could easily live there.” Even if the forest behind our cottage was haunted. The stone buildings that housed our hosts and their rental accomodations sit amidst exquisite gardens and offer, on a clear day, a wonderful glimpses into the land of Dartmoor. Breakfast is served each morning freshly prepared using local ingredients that include perfectly poached eggs from the resident hens, freshly baked bread, honey made from the bees that pollinate the lovely gardens, and homemade yogurt, jam and granola served on top of a table painted by the proprietor. Have I mentioned before I was in heaven?

Our hobo lunches were prepared for us before we set off toward Dartmoor the following day

Dinner requires a 24-hr notice, and since Larissa and I were not sure of how the day would unfold, we opted to find our own end-of-day meal. Although I like to eat on the early side, I agreed to wait awhile before venturing out again in the car, and the two of us decided we would take a wander into the forest behind our lodging.

This forest reminded us both of the Pacific Northwest, but felt like it held thousands of years of secrets

I don’t think I’ve felt a more haunted woods. The haunting effect was only heightened by the fact that it was dusk and a trail of feathers preceded our footsteps like deliberately placed breadcrumbs. The crows, it seems, were guiding our entire journey through the landscape of Albion. Although we were the only hikers in the woods that evening, I felt eyes all around me. It was difficult to tell if we were simply being observed or tested. Perhaps it was both. In these haunted landscapes, which seem to occur in abundance in England, I often feel as though I must earn my welcome.

Crow feathers followed our paths throughout our adventures in England and I should not have been surprised to find them here.

Larissa appeared less troubled than I, or perhaps she was just hiding her unease. We both remarked how we felt like Robin Hood and his Merry Men could appear at any moment around the corner. It was that kind of forest. While she delighted in the moss that “looked like tiny ferns,” I kept seeing faces in the trees and rocks.

The fern-like moss in all its emerald beauty

The only history we learned about this area we were walking in was from our hosts at Lee Byre, who told us, as they handed us a trail map, that there was an old quarry mine near the top of the hill. A not uncommon site in these parts of England.

After some venturing off the trails (mostly by my urginings) to look for intriguing views and anything else that might choose to appear, we eventually landed at the abandoned quarry.

The unsettled feeling continued to permeate my wanderings as we explored the long-abandoned site. Thorny bushes hugged the cement walls of the quarry remains and it was clear by looking at the old shed on the outskirts that Nature had reclaimed the site as Her own once again.

The presence of elemental beings was undeniable, and as I walked the hilltop I wondered if the hands of man had left their mark in a way that made our presence somewhat unwelcome. Were we friend or foe in this forest that felt like it could both swallow us whole or embrace us wholly?

Larissa standing in a place where one could not help but feel small.

Larissa and I were walking as Nature’s children, but also as children of man. Here in this reclaimed wild landscape it is both easy, and difficult, to forget that we are made of Earth but have spent thousands of years trying to prove we are not. I was unsettled, but rightfully so. A guilty child looking to earn back a mother’s trust.

Not an Ordinary Field of Wheat

On July 13, 2018July 13, 2018 By Alethea KehasIn A New Earth, Gaia & Elementals15 Comments

On this day, one month ago, I suddenly declared to the friend I was soon to visit in London, “Wouldn’t it be cool if we found a crop circle?” It was one of those things that just popped into my head. I hadn’t been thinking about crop circles, which is a bit surprising, as I’ll confess I’ve always wanted to see one, but suddenly I felt an almost desperate urge to find one on this particular trip that I was to leave for within a matter of hours…

Sue’s account of the circle can be found here. And I had promised her to write about my visit, and other happenings during the trip soon as well. I’ve only managed to get one post out though. I have kept myself very busy, so even though it’s now my bedtime and I have an early morning yoga class to teach, I find there is no better time than the present.

Maybe I should start by telling you I drew the Mercury card for our Giant and the Sun Workshop weekend. The card for magic…

I didn’t know the circle was sitting in a faraway field in Cerne Abbas until I got there, and I didn’t know the full breadth of its significance (I probably still don’t) until I sat inside of it on the last full day of my visit, days after the events of the workshop had passed.

My traveling companion, Larissa, and I were rather desperate to find it once we knew of its existence. It felt like an opportunity of a lifetime. You know, one of those things you really can’t pass up because they may not offer themselves up again. But it was not so easy to locate…

Contrary to some popular beliefs, crop circles are not always easy to find or access. And, as I discovered, seem to be rather deliberately placed not for our amusement, but for our edification. They are, I believe, both a test and a gift. The real ones anyway.

When one of our companions, Helen, discovered this particular crop circle we were searching for was aligned with the Giant aligned with Orion and encased in a hexagon, I knew I had to find it. As Sue noted in her post, it was easier said than done. Rather like my search for the Nine Ladies two years prior, the land seemed to be testing me/us. Time played with us and stopped our first attempt. We found the general location from the road with the help of some rather kind, albeit skeptical locals, but didn’t realize the trek was a good thirty-minute walk at a brisk pace.

Close to, but not the entrance we were looking for

So we waited nearly a week, and with some urging by Sue and Stuart, we promised to give it another go on our return to Dorchester. Time, we found, was our friend that day. We had, it seemed, just enough.

This time we found the unmarked place to pull over easily, following Sue and Stuart’s directions, it was just feet down the road from where we had initially stopped.

We were the only ones there. The site was unmarked from the road, and as we would later discover, unmarked completely. All good signs in my opinion. This was not meant to be a tourist attraction. So we walked, and walked, me probably a little faster than Larissa would have liked, as the flies swirled around us.

I found I was more nervous than excited. I had that feeling of being tested, but not quite in the same way as I did at the Nine Ladies Stone Circle.

The cell tower was bothering me. It was both a marker of sorts, but also a mar on the landscape. Too easy to locate, but not the sort of power center I tend to prefer. We passed some farmers chatting by their equipment. I’m pretty sure they saw us through the trees but didn’t say anything. They were laughing over their meal, or perhaps at us…

No one stopped us though, so we kept walking until we got to the stone…

A rather conveniently located stone nearby the field we were looking for (the arrow is not pointing toward the circle)

I would have liked to have spent more time with the stone, which seemed to be a guardian. I sensed it had many stories to share if I was willing to stop and listen. Instead, we passed by, paying our brief respects as we did.

The circle, when we found it, was nearly unrecognizable. Three and a half weeks had passed since it had been put down and the wheat had grown back quite a lot in most areas. The center, though, felt a bit barren and abused. By the time we reached it I was starting to feel more than a little uncomfortable about the impact of our presence, and those who had come before us.

The earth was parched and exposed in the center and there were many fragments of rocks that looked like lava stones exposed

It was clear that others had found this site, even though the farmer was not advertising it and had allowed the crops to grow in. It was on the Crop Circle Connector website, though, so I was not surprised, but still alarmed…

These circles are not meant to be walked…

I kept hearing this phrase inside of my head, but still, I walked myself, with a feeling of guilt and a bit of self-disgust.

The energy is already deadened…

I also heard these words. And it was true. It felt, almost, like any other place. Any other farmers field of wheat, but not quite…

Grass bent precisely at the nodes, never broken in the circle

“Take your pendulum,” Stuart had urged me. “And ask these questions…”

I wore it around my neck. I even took it off and sat in the center. Something wasn’t right. So I moved off to one of the circles in the rays. It was nearly grown in but felt less tampered. I put the pendulum back around my neck, sat down and closed my eyes.

The words came through me almost immediately. Questions that were posed during the weekend were answered, and speculations confirmed. I saw the giant in the field without a head and a pattern in the stars called Orion. I felt a presence that felt both powerful and like Love. The words rose up through the ground and down through the crown of my head and for the first time I felt it was okay for me to be there. Just this once. To listen and receive.

I vowed never to return again. Not to this circle, or to another. For once you step into the patterns, a disruption occurs. A disruption of an energy, I have come to believe through what I received during my meditation, is not for us to walk through, but to honor as a part of the dance of energy that is Life, but not life as we are accustomed to living it.

I have read that you can tell authentic crop circles by the way the blades of the crops are bent. As I walked the over-grown lines I looked closely at the wheat and noted the perfection of the patterns that had been laid down weeks before. Thousands of strands of wheat were bent at perfect angles and never broken. The tractor tracks, in contrast, were filled with double lanes of trampled and broken wheat.

As Sue revealed in her post, this particular circle is in alignment with the sacred geometry and ley lines in the land. It appeared just weeks before our arrival, and after the workshop was planned, but before it took place. This, I believe, is not a coincidence. The words that flooded my consciousness while I sat in the wheat spoke of a purpose much greater than our individual footsteps, our individual beliefs, and our individual existence. They spoke of the sacred dance of a Universe sophisticated and intelligent. A dance of energy that used to be infused in the land I now sat upon, and in all land on Earth. I could feel it as a trickle of magic below me, spreading down into the land and through its veins. The artificial tower loomed in the distance as an interruption, and I felt both sorrow and hope.

This is not an accident, the words spoke inside of me, It was placed here for a purpose.

Questions found answers inside of me as I opened myself up to the land’s secrets, and a depth of clarity arose within me. I did not record what I learned, nor do I feel it is my place to share it all here. It is likely some will, and would not believe my words, and that is okay. I used to live in that state of doubt as well. I do not claim to have the definitive answers for the existence of crop circles, but there now exists inside of me a core of hope and awe for the power of their creation and intention. A confirmation, if you will, that Life is so much greater than what we see with our eyes. And that within us and around us there is a dance of energy that is Life itself. All-knowing and intelligent. Searching, always, for our presence.

A Visit to the Land of Camelot #camelot #ancientengland #Cadburycastle

On June 22, 2018December 22, 2021 By Alethea KehasIn Animal Messengers, Gaia & Elementals, Travel Adventures30 Comments

Reflections from The Silent Eye’s June 2018 workshop.

The land pulls the blood from my body prematurely, just as it did two years ago when the white goddess appeared at the foot of my bed as I took the role of Guinevere. Three in the morning is an uncommon time to wake, but there is significance to this number. We are working with lines that join into triangles.

Sometimes I think I have strained limits, but my mind tells me I have not returned to the feel of the womb again to sleep. Birth is inevitable. My skin protests darkness and shuns the heavy wrap causing the release of sweat when I try to sleep. There is an alchemy of fire and water going on within and without.

Maumbury Rings in Dorchester, England have a distinctly feminine shape. Inside its womb-like enclosure, you can feel the dull ache of its violent past.

I walk the Maumbury Rings after descending Maiden Castle where I felt the stabs of its violent past covering a land that once held magic. Yet, there is still heat to be found if you sit in silence in the place of the ancient temple. It radiates gold and feels like a powerful peace.

The size of 50 football (soccer) fields, Maiden Castle holds a turbulent past as an Iron-age fortress. Yet, the land holds the memory of magic that can be felt in areas such as the site of an old Roman Temple (seen in this image), perhaps built over an ancient sacred site.

In the distance, the land mounds into peaks that draw the eye to patterns formed thousands of years ago. Miles from this structure, in a small town in Somerset, there is another hill named for a castle that no longer exists in solid form.

I walk the perimeter of Cadbury Castle, pulled toward the path to Glastonbury. The Tor, 21 miles away, can be seen from here.

Cadbury Castle feels like a test. This is where we gather for the start of the workshop, and before we ascend the hill, we visit a church that feels like a shadow below. My companion tells me she smells blood inside its walls and I find it difficult to breathe its heavy air. Outside and inside its walls I feel the haunting of a past that seeks to be reconciled by light.

Crows abound here and leave their feathers under the ancient yew tree as though purposely placed. I will find their feathers throughout my week’s journey in the ancient landscape of Albion.

An ancient yew holds the secrets of time here beneath Cadbury Castle. The ground surrounding it was littered with crow’s feathers, and the birds called me toward the fairy woods at the base of the hill.

There are cow guardians on the hill of Camelot. They own the rights to the land now, but the forest you must pass through holds its secrets. I have grown familiar with haunted woods, yet each one holds a different story I feel I must decipher. The woodland spirits seem to recognize my link to Guinevere and draw me into the press of trees. In these places one can easily become lost to time.

It is always with reluctance that I pull away and return to the mind’s calling. This hill feels troubled to me. Below the grass, I sense the rocks seeking to be revealed once again. Feathers mark where they have become partially exposed, and I can read a piece of their sacred past, which continues to pull me twenty-one miles away to where the Tor rises over the sacred heart.

Glastonbury Tor rises above the landscape 21 miles away.

As I walk the land, I see in my mind’s eye two triangles converging to form a star, which covers the expanse of the hilltop. The exposed rocks along the perimeter mark its points, and I imagine lines of energy flowing to places like Glastonbury Tor. I find it difficult to resist the desire to remove the dirt that seems to hide this sacred form.

I walk the right perimeter of Cadbury Castle following the jut of stones and feathers that seem deliberately placed by an unseen hand.

There is a meditation read by Sue Vincent, and my mind starts to wander to another time. I lose track of her words as images form of their own accord. There is a crownless king with long hair. His head removed from his body. A serpentine energy rises instantly to wrap the land in protection. It ripples to the left, away from the Tor and when I open my eyes I can see its pattern in the waves of grass where the cows graze.

The left side of Cadbury Castle wears a wave-like formation of earth, which is where I saw the serpentine energy wrap the land.

Once again, I am drawn to the heart. To the center, even though I can feel the lines broken by the hands of a false power. I will feel this each time we visit the points on the star spread wide across the land at sites once holy without mortared towers. I want to pull down these false alignments of power and watch as the stones return to the body of Gaia. There is still too much force of will here. Phallic forms created by the hands of man boldly rise at the entrances to the carefully constructed vesica pisces where people have prayed for thousands of years in obedience. I want to birth them new again. Holy unto themselves, aligned with the stars and Her body below.

An imposing tower guards the entrance to a church placed on a ley line of energy. Inside, the “womb” of these churches resemble vesica pisces with their curved ceilings.

There is an erect giant on a hill in Cerne Abbas. He overlooks the village in a landscape that is aligned with a belt of stars in the heavens. Each time I look at him, I see his too small head removed from his body, exposing the unobstructed pathway to the heart. I also see power, and it feels conflicted because of time. He seems to be impregnating the mound he stands upon, but with what now?

From the bottom of the hill, below the giant, only his bottom half is exposed.

Circles in the Earth appeared three weeks before our arrival, perfectly aligned with the giant and with the symbols we are working with. One year before, another pattern in the earth showed the goddess inside a vesica pisces as though impregnated by the energy of a giant aligned with Orion in the heavens.

I remember how I felt the goddess rising strongly against my back on the top of Maiden castle as I sat inside what felt like a holy site. There was the peace of balance. The sun energy radiated around me and up through the Earth. A sacred joining with the goddess. I, the child glowing inside the impregnated womb.

The wheat begins to grow back to its original form in the May 2018 Cerne Abbas crop circle. Aerial images can be found online. I felt like a trespasser even though the energy had dissipated (with the aid of other trespassers before me). My opinion is that these circles are not meant for human intrusion.

I think of the world I was born into, and my own children. These are, without a doubt, turbulent times. Yet there is hope. My mind clings to its vision of a riderless horse galloping effortlessly up the hill of Cadbury. Pure white, like the stars still aligned with our Earth. I feel their energy running back through Her veins. I think of the circles and lines in the crops barely visible during my visit to them. Rays on the wheel of time draw in the sun over crescent moons. I think of Horus and Hathor. A union of energies within and without merging back to the center where I sit for a moment and wonder what we will birth into the future.

Beautiful wildflowers that wear the colors of the crown chakra crow on the hillside where the Cerne Abbas Giant resides.

An Unusual Labyrinth?

On May 26, 2018July 30, 2018 By Alethea KehasIn A New Earth, Classes, Dreams, Gaia & Elementals, Reflections, Spirit Channelings, the labyrinth17 Comments

I dreamt last night of a world I did not want to leave. “Hold me back,” I told my companions, lest I fly up into the wonderous sky above. At that moment I was watching the dance of clouds as they morphed into fairytale forms, yet what was below was as magical as what was above. A child’s playhouse of wonderment and joy. I have dreamed these landscapes before. I have even traveled them in visions only to return to the density of a reality that seems, on the surface, false and formed through the deliberate hands of ego-driven might. By hands shaped by the individual quest for greed.

My soul has not forgotten the true magic of Life. Of untempered Joy. Every so often, it returns me to that state to bring back hope and also Truth. I have walked the broken lands that still hold magic for those who wish to see and feel it. Through the deepest depths of a despair that is not just mine, I have felt the ever-present stirring of Light.

We all walk the landscape of magic, whether we are aware of it or not. At each moment we can choose whether to become the trapped victim of fear fed by that greedy hand lusting for power and dominance, or we can find that ever-present state where the river of Life flows to the frequency of Light.

Here is where the inner-child resides, waiting to dance to Truth. We call her the inner-child because she holds the key to Life. She never forgets the “child-like” state of wonder that is the magic of all existence. The embodiment of true Joy, she resides in all of us. Tuned to her frequency, the world around her shifts to match the rhythm of her dance.

For so many of us, including those who are not yet adults, the inner-child is already lost in a long-forgotten place. We may know she is there. Sometimes we may even feel her inner core of light, but we have forgotten who to get to her. It is as though we reside in a labyrinth that takes on a maze-like form because the light within us is filled with broken lines created by pain and fear. These shadow lands impede the natural flow of light, which is that magical life force energy that vibrates to Truth. To Joy. To Love.

As one well-intended individual has pointed out, the labyrinth that appears in my first book in the Warriors of Light series does not resemble the labyrinths seen throughout ancient cultures, and which is now used in “New-Age” healing modalities. The labyrinth I chose, or rather chose me, is a maze of lines that unite the above with the below. Those who are familiar with esoteric teachings will recognize it as the mystical hexagram, the Star of David, or the Merkabah . Its origin predates religion and division. Two triangles overlapping in union, connecting the above with the below in perfect harmony. The true self, that “inner-child,” can be found always at the center. The seat of the soul. Of Truth. Of Light. Un-changing. There can be many individual journeys to get there, but we all, eventually arrive at the same place.

The book will be out soon…I had a minor glitch in formatting, a glitch which is turning into a gift to allow a more beautiful expression of the book and the vision that is being held to assist and support children young and old reconnect with the inner-child of Truth.

Winter Returns to Pull the Cells Inward

On April 15, 2018April 15, 2018 By Alethea KehasIn Gaia & Elementals, Memoir, Reflections12 Comments

Two years ago the weather was the same. The New Hampshire climate is not so different from the Peak District of England. April can be sunny and warm, or it can return, in a moment, to the icy hands of winter. Today in New England it is raining sleet, which is collecting upon the ground in growing layers of white. I imagine the still unopened buds on the daffodils and crocuses are pulling inward.

My own mind travels to the Nine Ladies Stone Circle in Derbyshire. Recalling the same pounding sleet that challenged our four seeking forms on the second day my family and I ventured out to find the circle. Or should I say evening? We chose the impending arrival of the night both times we sought the vaguely marked landmark. I, much more urgently seeking than my husband and children, who seemed more to indulge me than feel the need. The body, though, remembers the past, even the past that extends beyond its lifetime. There is an imprint that is made deep within the cellular matrix that connects to the soul’s lifetimes and it behooves one to take note of the triggers that bring the memories back to life.

I knew the land was testing me. Asking me what I was willing to remember. Asking me if I was ready to return to a time that pressed me beyond the brink of conscious memory. The forces that reside in these sacred sites of the moors are strong and very much alive, yet they are mostly unseen, serving as the haunting imprints of a past that was filled with a magic that we have mostly chosen to forget. Walking with the intention of awareness, though, one cannot help but feel it.

Or hear it. On the first night, there was the cry. Like a woman calling for a lost child. My daughter heard it too, so I knew I wasn’t going insane. Put the pull inward was fierce, and I could see an emotion that approaches fear on the faces around me. We left as the darkness began to descend to reveal the shadows of the far distant past more acutely. There are legends about people being lost in the moors and never returning. The elemental forces hold a rein here that is strong and often unrelenting. It serves to test your notion of survival as well as your willingness to remember what many have chosen to forget.

Winter is the season of dreaming. Of a hibernation that turns life inward toward the soul’s truths if we are willing to sleep with awareness. It seemed fitting, in many ways, that the sky chose to release winter’s return on our second venturing out to find the stone circle we never found on the first night. This time I was determined not to allow my body to be pulled to other landmarks, no doubt equally, if not more, significant for the journey. Yet, there was a reluctance, a fear, to venture into these shadowed lands that felt threatening. I was, simply, not ready to understand and to feel fully what it had to reveal. There is an initiation or re-initiation, that must occur, and I was not ready. I also had my family with me. A family that was there because of my urgings. The fierce need to protect over-rode everything else.

The Gaudy Tree Draped in Artificial Finery

Despite the unrelenting skies, we found the circle. It seemed so small, and in many ways insignificant, or rather forgotten. The tree that hovered beside it was draped in gaudy finery, which I found repulsive. A desecration of the sacred. I resisted the impulse to pull down ribbons and naked plastic bodies of miniaturized women. Who does this? I wondered. This was not the worship of the past my cells knew. A place visited often enough, perhaps, but forgotten.

But still, the whispers of the past were there, haunting the sacred ground. They called through my body in a language I was trying hard to resist, but also to remember. It would take me another year to be ready. To willingly return to the moors (in a different area) and visit the sacred land with a memory fierce and very much alive. Thankfully, a year later, I walked back through time under the watchful eyes of those who are familiar with the forces of the land, lest I go too far astray.

Surrendering & Gayatri

On March 14, 2018March 14, 2018 By Alethea KehasIn Animal Messengers, Energy Healing, Gaia & Elementals, Memoir, yoga7 Comments

The first night in Bermuda, my daughter came down with a cold. I could hear her coughing and blowing her nose from the other room, and wondered how the night would play out. She came in after midnight. My husband transitioned to the pullout couch in the main living space, while my daughter settled in next to me so that I could give her Reiki. It was a night of little sleep, but it was also one of blessings and surrender.

There was no cough medicine to grab from the bathroom closet. No diffuser filled with oils to plug in the wall. I had only my hands and the energy I opened them up to. Fear can creep in when we find ourselves in situations that draw us out of our comfort zones. We are used to habits, and come to rely on certain things to get through life. Sometimes, though, we must work with what we have inside of us.

While I rested my hands on my daughter’s head, I asked her to surrender with me. I felt the body gently release around the heart, and the womb of the Gaia surrounding us. The form of a great sea turtle appeared inside of my mind, holding the presence of Mother Earth. She moved gently through the darkness until my daughter found enough stillness to sleep. And, during those long hours before sleep found me, the notes of the ancient healing mantra of Gayatri played through me:

Om Bhur Bhuva Swaha

Tat Savitur varnenyam

Bhargo devasya dhimahi

Dhiyo yonah prachodayat

Five Days with a Restless Gaia in Bermuda #bermuda #traveladventures

On March 7, 2018December 9, 2021 By Alethea KehasIn Dreams, Gaia & Elementals, Memoir, Reflections, Travel Adventures, yoga8 Comments

Gayatri: The feminine form of the divine, and therefore one may extrapolate that Gaia, or Mother Earth, is an aspect of her. (Note some associate the Gayatri mantra with the solar god, Savitr, as I mentioned in a previous post. As I work further with this mantra, I find myself returning to what I felt years ago when I first heard it, that it is an awakening to the divine feminine energy that resides in all of us. An energy that balances the fiery sun).

I wore her turquoise in the form of a teardrop in the well of my throat each day. The chip of stone the same shade of blue as her waters, which turned from tranquil to a fierce sea that I knew could pull me back to her womb in an instant. On the tiny sliver of an island called Bermuda, I was acutely aware of the power of water and the great womb of life. Water that in one moment held stillness, and in the next turbulence.

The first day mirrored calm. There were hardly any ripples dividing the liquid element from air, and my eyes could see an unobstructed bottom through several feet of depth. Often, I found myself looking for life in the great womb, but found only a few colorful fish one day in the deeper, darker blues.

Along the shoreline, the inorganic waste of humanity collected the memory of greed in forgotten areas. Finding this depressing, I focused the lens on beauty.

Abandoned vacation huts over tranquil water. Behind the veil of pine, garbage accumulates.

Until it was unavoidable.

By day three her breath, which blew in a soft caress upon my arrival, had turned into a gale force that permeated all the pores in my body. It was not an icy wind, but a penetrating one meant to awaken that which we tend to keep still not because of peace, but because of a choice to ignore.

The photograph cannot capture the magnitude of Her strength

So I welcomed her air and felt the exhilaration of life stirring through time. Nights turned restless and I woke often to hear her constant cry as she tried to rip the shudders of my the house where I was staying open.

What do you want from me? What are you trying to tell me? I found myself asking the divine mother, knowing the answers were held in the mirror of my dreams. They showed me the walls that needed to be brought down, and the shadows held through fear opened to the raw, untamed element of air. The spiral like a hurricane bringing me ever inward to the eye to examine and release.

The key, held in the open hands of surrender.

I will stir up your life, but you must examine what I bring forth.

Bhargo devasya dhimahi

Diyo yonah prachodayat

Often, I found my mind returning to the Gayatri Mantra, in particular, these last two lines. Seeking the cleansing through the goddess. Igniting the light more deeply within, while feeling Her womb enclosed around me. Wrapping me fiercely, but not consuming, while I stayed on her strip of land called Bermuda. The place some say is at the tip of a sacred triangle that points “up” toward the ever-present Light.

The Sacredness of Life (and why I’m not a vegan)

On January 14, 2018January 17, 2018 By Alethea KehasIn Gaia & Elementals, Reflections22 Comments

This is a post I have been wanting to write for quite some time, but have put off because it can be such a controversial topic. I don’t wish to offend or demean anyone, and I think this is why I also feel so compelled to write this. There are such strong opinions on this topic that it often spurs a “holier than thou mentality” for some and a defensive response in others.

I do not believe, morally speaking, one is better than the other. Some of the wisest and most reverent individuals I know are omnivores. I don’t believe they are better than anyone else, and they don’t either. They share a belief in the Native cultures on Earth, which is one that I share as well: That all life is sacred. The consciousness of Life moves through each of us, just as it moves through the animal kingdom, as well as the plant kingdom, and the mineral kingdom. It moves through water and fire. When you live in reverence for all Life, you realize all life becomes an eventual sacrifice to continue the existence of Life itself, yet the essence of all Life never dies.

“When you eat, do you give thanks to the life you are consuming,” were the words spoken to a group of us over a meal. They came from a shaman who had been chosen and trained not for monetary reward, but because he was destined to share ancient, sacred teachings. He is not a vegan, nor is he a vegetarian, but each time he places nutrients in his mouth he gives thanks to the sacrifice, whether it be the water he drinks or the body of the plant or animal life that has been sacrificed so his life can be continued.

When Native Americans, for example, take the life of a deer, they connect with the spirit of the animal by looking in its eyes and offering a prayer of gratitude. No part of the body of the deer is waste but repurposed with reverence for the life that has been sacrificed.

I have found, through my own journey in life, that I cannot place a hierarchy on the value of one life over another. I feel the energy of a tree as acutely as I do a dog. I have discovered that an apple tree shares different wisdom than a hemlock, just as a tiger does versus an ant. When I place my hands on rocks, I am often graced with the wisdom they hold. In fact, the most profound and humbling experiences I have felt have been through this very act. Water, which is recycled over and over again as the life-giving force in each of us, is also, to me, sacred. I have learned more through my conversations with water than I have through most people I have met. Therefore, who am I to place a value on one consciousness over another?

As I learn and continue my journey of Life, I have had to face the sacrifice that is Life, over and over again. There is guilt, along with reverence. When I feel the life force leave a tree, it can bring me to a state of intense sorrow, even though I realize that the essence of that Lifeforce still lives on. When I first learned Reiki, I instinctively hit a mosquito, then Reikied its body back to health. It’s not an easy lesson to learn: That all life is ultimately a sacrifice to Life. That we are born into life and death and exist through many deaths.

It is my belief that all life is sacred, and when we strive to honor it as such, we realize how connected we are to everything. That the consciousness that flows through you flows through a beetle, a cat, a daisy, a rock, a tree and the water that is recycled through the body of Earth and in you. Living in gratitude and awe of Life is something I try to practice with each breath, as even the air we breathe carries Life. Without it, I would not exist in this body.

A Circle of Hands #unity-consciousness #empathy

On September 26, 2017April 28, 2022 By Alethea KehasIn A New Earth, Gaia & Elementals, Reflections7 Comments

I have been thinking about harmony and unity. About how, over the course of hundreds, if not thousands of years, we have moved away from the circle to form the line.

I have been thinking about the quest of the individual striving for purpose by trying to get to the head of the line, not realizing the line is an illusion.

I have been thinking about how we are birthed into human form to explore this illusion, but not to hold onto it. For there is nothing to hold onto. No hands to join your palms.

Last Friday, in my continued quest to learn the mysteries of the land near where I live, I visited the Mt. Kearsarge Indian Museum with a friend of mine. The museum, founded by Bud and Nancy Thompson, several years after Nancy taught my third grade class at Canterbury Elementary School, is deliberately arranged in the form of a circle. When you walk the rooms of artifacts recovered across the United States, your eyes pick up patterns. Themes are shared throughout the native cultures that join the people in sacred truth. The circle is one of them.

There is, by its inherent nature, no beginning or end to the circle. The line, when drawn in this form curves back to itself, and in doing so becomes part of a greater whole that never ends. Here separation is impossible. If there is a break in the circle, it ceases to be whole.

Native American Basket Art — A Continuous Circle of Hands

In my quest to find sacred sites in New England, I have been searching for circles of stone, but on Friday I found circles in other forms. Bodies, male and female, joined into circles of hands on baskets, pottery and clothing. The symbol of unity stretches across our globe.

In our more modern quest for dominance over each other, we have forgotten what it feels like to hold each others’ hands. We have forgotten that we are birthed into individuality only to discover we cannot truly make it alone. When you gaze at a circle of hands like the one show in the image above, it becomes almost an absurd hope to strive for separation.

Imagine the energy of holding an endless circle of hands. Fear has no hope here. Loneliness does not exist. The pain of the individual dissolves into the embrace of the whole. Imagine the love.

A long ago time, this was simply Life. The Circle of Live. There is a reason thousands of years ago humankind formed circles with stones to worship Life. There is a reason why bodies of hands continuously joined, and voices sang in a circle of harmony around fires.

If you doubt the power of the circle, close your eyes with me and imagine a hug of one thousand hands.

The land still remembers its hold. Can we?

Ancient Stone Circle in Scotland — A Circle of Hands in Stone, Scotland. Photo Credit: Sue Vincent

The Light Behind the Story

Category: Gaia & Elementals

Following the Broken Lines of Earth to Brentor #leylines #albion #middlegradefantasy

A Reclaimed Forest At the Edge of Dartmoor #dartmoor #ancientengland

Not an Ordinary Field of Wheat

A Visit to the Land of Camelot #camelot #ancientengland #Cadburycastle

An Unusual Labyrinth?

Winter Returns to Pull the Cells Inward

Surrendering & Gayatri

Five Days with a Restless Gaia in Bermuda #bermuda #traveladventures

The Sacredness of Life (and why I’m not a vegan)

A Circle of Hands #unity-consciousness #empathy

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