The Alchemical Rede Magazine
By Clarity
2024 September 20th Issue
Moving Through the Woods of Life Introduction:
Sit tight, sit strong, sit on the moss, sit on the root, sit under the Pine.
Moving Through the Woods of Life
As we pick our way through the brambles, the fallen logs, the brush, we find the ease is in ourselves, and we become the environment, the atmosphere, and the longing.
The Rabbit Whole is much deeper, the emotion much clearer, the odds odder, and we become steady on our feet, no matter the direction of the wind. Our hats are on tight, and we are able to move forward and on into the pointed steps of reach.
Reaching past the old setting, finding our way through the tangles, the barbs, the underbrush, we come out on top of the hill, and the view is set for the rising and setting sun.
The moon trees her way among the stars, hugging close to Gaia, orbiting her own shining path around the global path, entering phase after phase, knowing all along the connection remains steadfast.
The Council of Totemic Presence sits its circle round, and the light of Love pours into the Circle, until what you thought was, becomes more than what you could possibly dream.
Inching your way closer to the Center, the heat of illumination warms your Heart, and calls for you to becalm yourself, and listen more closely to what is pleasant, kind, supportive, and keeps the wolf at the door fed properly.
Inside the coming times are many instances of elation, joy, camaraderie, and cooperation. The distractive negations starve and dissolve away, so that what was once the ease becomes the ease again.
We tread our feet wisely, and we make way for the peace and agility to come full front, so that we can see ourselves as able and strong enough to make our way by the maps of navigational folds, bends, creases, and corrugations.
The night is blacker than Pitch, and the Red Thread holds its strength tight within our hands, as we hold tight to one another, and let the strange quieten down, and the maddening, calm.
Reaching the mark needed, the high water and the low water become nothing more than the watery abyss of travel through. Once traversed, the portage over land and root, tree and stump, gain momentum down their way and means.
The Mycelial Network picks up the signals and sends out the calling of support, and the Language of both Trees and Birds come to call. The Raven and Loon, the Coyote, and Eagle, each in its own way bringing to the Table, its individual Spoon of recognition.
Bear was there, but hidden, as was Lynx and Tiger, Swan and Otter, all these and more circled the Island Dreaming and met the intrusion with strength and resistance. And then there were the Angels that came to Call.
Knowing the validity of Angelic Presence, characters throughout the history of story-telling, the Island received the light of energy and made ready the seating of an expanded Council.
This new Territory of Love threaded itself throughout the soil, as it wove itself deep within the Mycelial Network, and conversed to those both above and below. The reach was endless and the connect profound.
The movement through the Woods of Life creates and unfolding vista after vista, with populations of all sorts. Both animal and human, both planetary and galactic, both solar system and universal.
The timing of this new found wealth, comes from the intensity of focused resilience within the foundational thread of the Red Pulse.
Combining the Red Thread with the Red Pulse insures the connection, so that what was feared is dissolved away, what was uncomfortable becomes comfortable, what was outlandish becomes easily acceptable.
Space opens to the storytelling, and Time moves the characters forward, in order to completely regain the foothold needed, to advance your Self more completely into your own view of Receiving.
As you climb each colorful chakra, your handheld and footfall, find the leverage to maneuver the intricacies of subtle and sublime. Gifted at each juncture of climb, the results of Ger, Shem, and Nu converge, allowing the adjustments needed to be at Home with yourself.
As White speaks your words, the Papered Awareness folds into a Squared Perspective, and the hand that sees is the hand that supports and renews itself, bringing Magic back into the Square deeply.
Each passing through allows the body to become more of itself, more allowing for the nature of Magic to express itself within the atmosphere and environment of your Existial Presence.
The fear looms, the Council shields you from the fear, and you realize the Woods are filled with allies keeping you strong, as you remember to diminish fear, by centering yourself within your own Presence.
Come more deeply in touch with yourself, as the character you are Being, allow the sweetness to show itself inside the illusion of fear. Let the system slow itself down, do not run at its pace.
The Table is set for your sitting into, not getting up from. Reach across the table for the foods you are not so familiar with, taste their flavors, so that what was thought not palatable, becomes tasty to you.
Allow yourself to grow beyond who you think you are supposed to be. Try on the wanton, and pious. Try on strict, and loose Try on edgy, and wallflower. Quickly run through the closet of character outfits, and settle yourself on those that cost the most and cost the least.
Bring your costume to the Tea Party, Alice is there, being who she is this day, and the Cheshire Cat has found himself another smile to put on. The Dormouse is serving different tea today, so adjust yourself to the change.
As the Bee enters the Garden, all the Flowers glow with their expressionary refinements. The Light is able to land upon the field, and the field of energy grows within each petal, blossom, stem and stalk.
Relax into your own Self, let all your Wheels rotate and spin, let the Trees reach their roots up through you, through your Consciousness, so that as you grow, you can branch out, leaf out, and become home to the Birds of Language.
Hanging out on a limb, that we almost cut off, but Totemicaly warned, we caught ourselves in a full fling, and landed on our feet.
Even though broken-hearted a bit, we are always ready for the closure on what tries to steal the beautiful dream of living awake.
We conjure up a new born Fire, and let it reach to the coals of the embers that we are reborn again from. We listen to the small new kindling of new beginnings, with more coal than wood.
We don’t burn the Trees, we grow them, we don’t dig up the roots, we embody them, we don’t twice manage the Gift, we receive it. We are the new leaning of a large embodiment that reaches equally above and below, side to side, and inside out.
We call for the naked expression, that now waits for clothes, new insights, larger visions, and more wild territory. Wild from within, reaching out with small hands of trust, and willingness to meet the thin of emergence.
The popular knowledge without confusion is more part of the wisdom of ages, relatively fine are the new projections that reach beyond the dementia of scam that only skims the surface that emptied below and resistant to a full dream eddied and soulful.
The ancient records hold memories of a different scam is kept as scum at the bottom of putrid things. As life emulates its refusal, as compost navigates a rich future. The emulational speed rate is becoming faster and faster, and the timing requires more perseverance to yield Gold.
What is wild is not just in wild places, what is wild is in wild hearts, and the ancient wild heart emulates into wild things, wild flowers, wild gardens, wild woods, wild meadows, wild children who live in wild worlds, inside and out.
The wild nature of the heart allows the wind to blow in all directions, navigating the differences, and negotiating the curves, as they come bringing themselves, unclipped and raw.
Bringing the Nu forward, we are able to bend and flow with the current, and make with it what we will. All forms of energies come our way, and we either plant them or compost them.
Nothing is wasted, nothing is over-looked, nothing is rejected, good or bad, so that what comes to us is given a make-over, a do-over, a hand-me-down, and cast-off, good-for-nothing.
Turning reason into the Gold of intuition, logic is given a new Spoon to feed from, and what was thought bitter, tasteless, sour, or no good, is transformed by our very own wild nature.
The close-call, is a call that needs to be attended to, and the wild in us is capable to foresee the distance and the steps it will take to shift the energy grid to a constant source of positive Light.
We are on the verge of changing it all around, the signals are getting more and more obvious, the difficult is playing out the last of its battery pack, and we are feeling the ease of capability.
The Table is already set, and the meal is prepared, so the hunger is not able to spin out a story of starvation and despair. The Rabbit shows up at just the right time, and Tea is poured out, so that the taste of future is sweet.
Territory opens the Portal Door, our feet automatically point themselves in the right direction, we face into the Ease, so that Love is the Compassion we always see.
Encased in this embodiment of swaddled brilliance, we are able to wrap ourselves inside the comfort needed, and the rest and relaxation comes into our bones, our tissues, and organs.
We need the sustenance of comfort, we need the desire of dreaming, we need the support of being believed. This is food on the table, this is nurturance.
What is the table conversation, what is the Tabletop sound of resonance, what is the Codial Mode of Given, if the mouth is tight, and the voice is quiet, and the tone is without enough value?
Devoid of resonance, the notes go flat, the air leaves the celebratory balloon, the candles die out, and what was once revered is spilled.
The tablecloth is washable, the dishes can be mended, the food can be tossed out, and more food made, but the meal that is lost is lost.
Eaten is best before the expiration date; more flavor, better taste, brighter juiciness. The Rabbit is on the hunt for the best place to lay down his head; on the saucer or in the cup?
The Squared Perspective of all that unites into place is being given room, and the necessity of this room is essential but not understood at this time.
In the not understanding we often give more room to the magic of what can be built in the dark, in the silence, that could not even be dreamed in the daylight.
We are now in that desert where the light is obscured, but the dark is so rich in potency that it starts to grow what will live within us.
We are the never untold, and the untold is given a way out, because the never is not watching close enough to catch the Light that is now growing up from under our dreams.
This is a crucial thing to everything that lives under the leaves of the first layer of dirt that is just now finding the seeds to access for the forest floor.
We are the Trees before they ever thought of becoming grown, we are the seeds that have arranged under the great Trees that shield like Pine and Cedar, Oak and Walnut, Maple and Willow, all giving us courage to maybe make a small mark with our seedling self into the thin layer of living differently.
The marshes within our sweet Waters, generously potentialize our future, and the stepping stones rise to grant our feet the gravity to get to solid ground. It hurts from time to time, when no one seems to realize the unpayable of this work, and rather a scam must only be the reason why someone takes a breath of recognition.
We must be alert to the wolves, that would eat our bones of all the Totemic of our creativity that is that very mouth of hunger.
So the treacherous is the imagination of others, because we crossed those lands long ago, and created from it a work that evolves one beyond the Fall, the failed, the unloved, the broken, the left behind, till we are never alone in this life and always connected to the Light of who we are.
Yes, that is a fortune that can’t even be paid, so what gift a few million dollars get sent our way, that isn’t enough for a slice of its conial bread.
Closure:
Weedle your way back through the Thread, and make sure you make your way back to Grandma’s house, before the Wolf eats you whole.
Publishers: Su.Sane & Robert Hake, Clarity
