It would seem I have a critic – or would heckler be a more precise word…?

He’s been about for a while now, leaving comments here and there, some of them very poetic, so much so I wonder if he has his own blog; if not I think he should…

But all these comments, his own opinions to which he is of course allowed, have been very negative, which is why I have not published them… yet.

The way WP is set up gives me the author, several choices. WP also includes email and IP addresses so if things get a little rough, the tough can get going!

So far I do not think the situation is outside of my control.

Is this the mark of fame perhaps?

Now I am left wondering if I should give this person a voice here – he obviously has issues of his own with my writings and returns now and then to leave his thoughts. Constructive criticism can and is very productive, but twittering on about teeth, planets, and the poor…?

Which reminds me, I must find a dentist… 

Last comment he left he asked what planet I was on – I feel a reply is in order so here it is.

We, each of us wonderful individuals see the world through our own eyes; we perceive that world from our own view point, and obviously your world, Larry is very different to mine.

You prefer yours, and I prefer mine.

I for one, see no reason to attack you for living your life the way you do.

But what I suggest you do with your very eloquent (all be it negative) writing and entertaining prose is to publish it in your own blog rather than try to in mine – you might then get an audience, which I think you deserve.

…and I am soooo looking forward to it!

But not just the conference itself  makes my heart beat a little faster; it’s the thought of meeting so many of you nice people (old friends and new) in person that does it too. )

As I said before tickets are still available and can be held on the door – just let me know and it will be done!

I wonder what it is about this event that get everyone fired up?

Is it the speakers, the book fair, or the event as a whole? Reading about it on the internet it seems the place to be if you are a serious student of the Art of the Old Ways.

I’ve seen comments such as ‘no fluff or crushed velvet to be seen here’ and it’s true! No Harry Potter or Buffy wanabees, just people who do what they do and take it seriously.

Same goes for the speakers; ‘lucid speakers’ was one comment I read! How true I thought… )

Last year’s controversy spiced it up a bit too, and I’m sure opened the way for more people to become interested in the recent history of the more traditional craft of our land; something every one should be aware of and yet so many are not.

We (the UK) have always had a long pre-Wicca history and I’m looking forward to hearing more about the man (and his HPs’) who brought Wica out to the masses, but as a magical practise rather than a religion, this weekend. )

Not that I’m having a go at other events understand – but you’ll find no opening ritual here (or a closing one for tha);  just a lively, friendly, attmosphere, full of chatter and the sharing of food and coffee’s and catch ups with people who see each other only at this event; folk who come on their own and feel at home; groups who come together; eveyone it seems has fun!

And then there’s the books…

I know some of you will have a ‘book budget’ and find it hard to stick to;  it’s quite easy to spend a hundred pounds or more in the blink of an eye! And I warn you now – the Astrology books are MINE – so hands off people!!! ;op

Only joking… but seriously, I am expecting to find a few books I’ve had my eye on for a while. I’d rather buy from the book sellers there than off the internet – nothing like leafing thro’ a book first to get the gist (and the ‘feel’) of it! Something I can’t do on Amazon…

So roll on Saturday – I can’t wait!!!

Tickets for this Saturdays Esoteric Conference & Occult Book Fair are still available for the conference in Ludlow this coming weekend, but at this late stage I think it’s best not to trust to the post…

Or you can take pot luck and just turn up on the day!

While studying the art of forecasting the weather with astrology (Astrometerology) I recently came across a site with some interesting facts. Having browsed the site and gleaned all I could from it I was about to leave when I can across a ‘final note’ which stopped me in my tracks!

Basically this note warned the budding astrometerologist to take in to account human emotions en mass as an energy that could and does effect the weather!

What, I thought… WHAT… vaguely being aware I sounded rather like a certain Doctor, I read on.

Now I’ve heard of the weather affecting emotions, and indeed experienced it myself; those sunny mornings when it’s felt good to be alive, the happy childhood sunny days of the past, these memories all produce a smile and inner glow as my serotonin levels rose. Conversely the lack of sun lowering serotonin levels in the winder, causes many me to suffer from S.A.D. and depression. Just thinking about the long dark wet cold winters in this country is enough to give ME the shivers and run for the duvet. Hibernation sounds a very sensible option at such times…

But I digress…

The fact that the weather affects us is undeniable.

The fact (?) that the energies of human emotions effects the weather is believable?

The ‘final note’ goes on to say how these emotions of people en mass attracts adverse weather. Something I’ve always wondered about myself.

Who remembers those old cartoons where a disgruntled character had a dark cloud of gloom hovering over their head…?

The note says this is the reason why the weather in certain countries turns nasty as the mood does, and claims this is the reason why rain often follows armies on the move. When forecasting the weather the astrometerologist would be very sensible to take all of this into account.

Interesting huh!?!

Got me thinking about the current ‘economic gloom’ we’ve had over the last two summers here in the UK… NOW certain things are starting to come together in my mind.

My friend the Astrologer David Rowan, is also an Astrometerologist, and through him, his friendship and his writings, my own interest in forecasting the weather with the movements of the planets has grown into a study of said same. Tho’ I’m only a beginner, I am a very enthusiastic one. :0)

David, has this theory that May should be very hot, based on his vast knowledge of the subject. He purports this will be down to Mars, the planet that produces great heat; it currently lies in the sign it rules which is Aries. So very very hot weather as a result.

But, the planet of extreme cold, Saturn could be cooling things as it’s retrograde in Virgo, a cold earth sign.

Venus is also in Aries and she tends to be a bit cool at times, but I agree with David, Mars should be and is stronger, more aggressive and more than capable of overcoming these adversities!

So what’s going wrong?

If you’ve kept up you should have an inkling were this is going… and I expect you have and may already be there ahead of me…

Is it the dampening (excuse the pun) of our emotions in this country of doom and gloom that is attracting the same kind of weather?

Interestingly, as I write this it has begun to rain…

Can we apply this theory to our own localities and see what happens with the weather? Or is this all a bit too hit and miss?

As Spiritual people I’d like your opinions on all or any of this. Be very interesting to hear what you think and if you’d like to read the original note that sparked my train of thoughts you can find it here (scroll down to the bottom of the page)

http://www.astroamerica.com/garden.html

Time has passed by so quickly since I last Blogged – winter has given way to early spring and now the land is lush and green with The Queen of the May is in bloom!

As usual, I will be in sunny Clun this weekend at the Clun Green Man – well I could hardly be anywhere else now could I!?!

For those of you who do not know Clun is a beautiful village in the South of Shropshire, set amongst the rolling hills that are said to have inspired Tolkien in his creation of The Shires – indeed the odd Hobbit has been rumoured to have been seen having second breakfast at the Bridge Tea Rooms on more than one occasion!

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Many years ago, one sunny day, I arrived home from school to find my Grandfather attempting to coach one of his cows through two bonfires. Puzzled, I watched from a distance, wondering what he was trying to do. The rest of the herd where in the cow house, which was unusual; it wasn’t milking time and the weather was good, so why where they there I wondered.

The shy cow, refused to go anywhere near the two small fires, and I could see he was getting his hair off with her. Frustrated and afraid of the fires, she dipped her horns, and shied away again!

“Dunner stand there!” he shouted waving his stick, “Her’ll never go thro’ with you there!”

So I made my way away from the gate leading to the farm yard, intending to go along past Rex’s kennel, down to the orchard to watch.

As soon as I turned my back, I heard her hooves clacking on the yard as she found her way to her stall in the cow house, he following.

“Did she go thro’?” I shouted, “No… she went round…” he said dejectedly.

Loosing interest I went into the farm house for one of my Nanna’s cool lemonade’s.

I knew she didn’t approve of some of things he did, but I couldn’t help asking why he’d lit two bonfires and driven the cows through them – save one, and why.

She sighed, then told me he thought it would help the increase the milk production, then she shook her head and as usual muttered something about “superstitious stuff and nonsense”.

Outside William threw water over the fires and after he had spread the ashes out in a circle, he let the cows out to pasture again, closing the gate after them he lit a fag, and leaned on the gate looking down the meadow thoughtfully.

He retired later that year.

So today I finally got this broad band sorted-or I thought I had! Things aren’t quite right yet; tomorrow will see me fertling with settings yet again. The signal keeps disappearing; currently the only place I can receive anything decent is in the window!!! Oh the joys of shared BB. I am very grateful to have it tho’.

On top of all that I have come down with a hacking cough, topped off with a temperature and upset tum and I was only saying recently I’ve not been ill for a year -yes! I’ve got a big mouth!

So to any of you who do healing, reiki or spells, please send some my way, otherwise a candle and/or a prayer or two will do.

Anything to help me recover and get back to normal!

In the meantime I am reading, reading and reading. I picked up a few books from BC the other day; one herbal book which has made me look outside with glee at all the good and growing things in the garden. If I had the energy I’d clear out my cupboard that houses my magickal herbs, potions, oils and such stuff. But, I think I shall wait until I feel better before tackling it. 

The other was Paul Huson’s “The Devils Picture Book”, probably the best book written on the Tarot or so I’ve been told! Leafing thro’ it I’m tempted to agree, but I’m biased; I love Huson’s books! Well, the jury’s still out on his “Mastering Herbcraft”… but I digress, TDPB was only £2:50!!!! Praise be to Bargaintia, Goddess of bargains!

So I have plenty to read, along with the latest Cauldron to digest. Plenty to study, peruse and browse through while I cough and splutter my way through the pages, catching up on various study projects.

Hm… life is magickal after all! 

©Cymraes2009

She twisted around on her feet, first this way and then that, “This is Pride Hill!” she exclaimed in surprise and confusion! There was no doubt, there where the seats and the shops, Butchers Row behind her, the market clock towards the bottom of the hill and Barclays Bank to the top – beyond that Marks & Sparks, and further down Woolworths, or at least it had been before the Credit Crunch!

Yes, this was Pride Hill on a gloomy cold damp winters day, people milling about, rushing into shops, here and there, stopping occasionally to talk, the Big Issue seller calling out their ware, the people walking by without a bye or leave… 

I’m here on the Astral, she thought, aware that she was in meditation. But why Pride Hill of all places? 

The Presence by her side, just out of her clear sight, grew in her awareness; she had almost forgotten about him in her surprise at being there. Something within shifted and slowly she saw not just busy shoppers rushing up and down Pride Hill, but grey featureless figures. Grey Souls as she had come to know them in their former meetings. The folk of every day life, lost on the seas with out any Divinity to call on; too busy, too caught up in the delusion that ‘this is all there is’! Nothing to brighten them, just greyness. Grey lives; grey souls.

Look closer… the Presence thoughts in hers.

She looked at the greys closer, now becoming ever so slightly clear to her were their  faces. A man with a scarf wrapped around his neck, tucked into his coat, eyes cast down as her walked by her astral form, came very close, and she saw it in him, and then another and another!

“Their third eyes are closed!” she breathed, “All of them!” 

Spinning around she ran amongst them, looking into their grey faces in disbelief, now she could see why they so steadfastly stayed on their course, refusing to believe in any form or kind of God, Gods, Goddess’s or any spirituality; they couldn’t they couldn’t they couldn’t… their third eyes were closed!

The reality washed over her and she felt lost, exhausted and bereft at the hopelessness of it all. She collapsed to her haunches watching, her astral breath coming in short gasps. It was hopeless… they could not see beyond the norm!

The Presence moved a little closer, seemed to become more intense and her attention was taken by bright colour moving amongst the Greys. A Bright Soul, moved towards them, and another, and another, she got to her feet and moved with the Presence to the side of Butchers Row, as an explanation filled her head.

There are many many more Bright Souls now, more than at any other time. Mankind is at a pivotal point in time, and there are yet more Brights to come.

“But how, if the Greys are so closed and unseeing?”

Look… a spindly finger pointed forth towards the shoppers milling up and down, Greys with a few Brights among them, and as she watched them all, she became aware of a light in their hearts, faint at first in a few, but as her perception slowly grew, the Divine Spark in each one became clear. Even the Greys…

There has been a subtle shift in the Heavens; the devastating results are plain to see, no-one has been left unaffected. With change come wisdom, with wisdom comes change. Things are changing and as they do so will the focus of attention, away from the material things that have held the attentions of the Greys; those that create these distractions are no longer as powerful now that the focus has shifted. The greatest hold has been broken. The Light within will show the way for Mankind to follow; it is his destiny.

She knew in her heart of hearts this was true, but was sad that this was the way of things. That there was no other way to awake the Greys. But then, they were distracted from the way of things by all the nonsense in their lives, as she had been once, before her awakening. Thoughtfully she turned, and walked up Butchers Row lost in thought but aware the Presence had gone, she was alone and with the next step, back in her meditating body in her Temple at home far from Pride Hill and the Greys.

©Cymraes2009.

This is a work of fiction and no likeness to any person, living or dead is intended… or is it?

The children bunched together in a corner of the primary school playing field, just the few of them at first, but others soon joined them.

The hubbub of play rang out across the field, as the rest of the school, happily played in the spring sunshine, winter games giving way to summer playfulness. Older boys played football, games of tick went on and long skipping ropes, twirled with girls queuing up to take turns. 

Sitting alone, making daisy-chains, she looked up to see the crowd of children gathered in that one corner, over by the houses.

This was her first year of school, and when the field had been opened up earlier that week, she had wondered over to that spot herself. The white wicker gate seemed strange to her so she had investigated, only to be told off by one of the play ground attendants, Mrs Pritchard.

The gate was out of bounds, so why were the children there?

Her curiosity getting the best of her, she slipped the daisy-chain around her wrist and slowly walked over, she saw how more and more children seemed to be drawn to the throng.

As she approached, keeping an eye out for Mrs Pritchard of course, a sound, strangely rhythmic came to her ears.

Chanting!

The children were chanting!

Gathered in a inner and outer mass, she was aware of inner movement, but as others flowed into the outer semi-circle she could not see what exactly was going on, but she was close enough now to hear the one single word they all were repeating over and over again!

witchwitchwitchWITCHWITCHWITCHWITCHWITCHWITCH!

She watched, closer now, but apart from the throng, mesmerised by the chanting, horrified by the happening. 

Who were they taunting?

Suddenly a shout went up!

The throng quickly melted away, leaving only the inner few, who too ran away, leaving only her and the witch, bent with age, eyes manicly wild, hair streaming around her like Medusa’s snakes, gnarled hands gripping a broom, poised, brushes outwards. 

Their eyes met, and the woman pushing the broom in short stabs towards her said, “Get away! Get away! Get AWAY!”

The child quickly saw the truth. This was no witch, but a scared little old white haired lady!

“But I don’t think you are a witch,” she said innocently, “I’m not like them I wont hurt you.”

But the broom came up, and instinct told her to back off.

She took her first few steps back just as Mrs Pritchard walked up to the gate, draging the boy who had started it all by his ear, followed at a safe distance by gawping boys and girls.

The boy began to apologise, but she could hear his heart was not in it, it was his pain that gave rise to the false words.

Her five year old heart skipped a beat.

She backed off even more.

A strange fear creeping through her soul.

Looking around her to see if anyone noticed as she went back, all alone, back to her patch of daisies, sacred to her Horned God.

©Cymraes2009

We stood in the big meadow, that evening long ago, watching the new moon rise, my Grandfather and I. It was a fine evening, but cold, and my Mother had yet to finish work and pick me up to go home for tea.

My Grandfather had put a few pennies in my duffle coat pocket, and my little hands were holding them now. Big round pennies. I knew I needed 12 to make a shilling, we had gone over that earlier, in the farm house while dusk fell. He’d got out his Father’s abacus too and promised to teach me how to use it. I could already count up to ten, and all this before I went to school. 

So there we were in the darkness, waiting for the clouds to clear so we could see the moon. I had been instructed to turn the pennies in my pocket over as I looked to the moon, but only when she had ‘her new horns’. This had confused me a little, as far as I knew the moon had no horns! 

Then a gap in the clouds came, and the moon shone down upon us, turning the pennies in our pockets over as we looked at Her. “That’ll bring us good luck!” He said quietly to me, “For the next month, until we see her again, new and with her horns, you see ‘em now?” I could, the moon really did have horns, one at each end. Grinning, I nodded, my pennies turned. Good Luck was mine, but what was a month I asked. With his quiet humour he explained, a month was from the new moon to the new moon, twenty eight days in all, but in the world of men, because they thought there were not enough days in a month, they’d put in a few extra, and a month was thirty or thirty one days, except for February which had twenty eight, unless it was a leap year when it was twenty nine. We were slowly walking back to the house now, the torch lighting our way, and while I listened, I did not understand it all… the only bit I did understand was the fact that man had added to the twenty eight days in a month.

It would be later when he taught me the verse that used to be printed on the back page of school exercise books:

As demand would seem to have it, I’ve created a new official site today for the Esoteric Conference& Book Fair. All regular updates, news, and comments can now be shared  there, including an up and coming interview with the organiser of the conference, Gary Nottingham.

The updates and general information on the site are NOT copyrighted and may be shared freely by yourselves. However, copyrighted material will be posted.

This post is not copyrighted and the material within can be freely shared and generally bandied around the Internet as you see fit.