Crystals and Sacred Sites Lightbecoming

Crystals and Sacred Sites
Light becoming: Travelling with healing
intent
Judy Hall
c. Tore Lomsdalen
It may seem absurd, it may seem preposterous, but we would insist that the
journey described can become a real one, on several levels of understanding.
The reader will have an opportunity of glimpsing within the lost realms of
Egypt, and his or her own psyche, wonders that the modern world has almost
forgotten.
Alan Richardson and B. Walker-John The Inner Guide to Egypt.
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Kom Ombo Temple c. Tore Lomsdalen
THE GODS RETURN
Light unbinds the hieroglyphs of ransacked gods
Scriptures chant from stone.
Nudged by shadows we walk away from ourselves
To a place where truth has the weight of a feather.
Christine Aziz
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Enter into this account with your heart not your head! It cannot be understood
rationally. Do not try to make sense of it, sense it instead. The mythology of
ancient Egypt is complex and evolved over three and a half thousand years so
there are many versions. Allow yourself to enter into their world.
.
In the beginning
As I have always suspected, you can be ‘here’ and ‘there’ at the same time. That
there are such things as parallel lives and different timeframes that spin and flow
together in an eternal present is a given to me as I frequently time-walk in my
karmic healing and astrological work, weaving between the worlds. But I was to
experience this much more personally through a journey up the Nile from Luxor to
Aswan.
My much treasured friend and publisher Margaret Cahill of Flying Horse
Press was diagnosed with mantle cell lymphoma just after 21.12.12 and had her first
intensive chemo four-day session just before I left for Egypt in February 2013.
Her blog ‘Under cover of darkness: my journey through mantle cell lymphoma’
quickly became addictive reading for me with its incredible depth of insight and
inner-sight. Thanks to the wonders of modern technology and ancient metaphysics,
we would keep in touch while I was travelling down the Nile. I knew that the journey
would not be an ordinary one but even I was surprised at what transpired. It
certainly confirmed what Lao Tzu said aeons ago:
The further one goes, the less one knows,
Therefore the sage knows without going about,
Understands without seeing,
And accomplishes without action.
I took a photograph of Margaret and her partner Stephen Gawtry and
carried it on the eleven day journey along the Nile. This was to be much more than a
surrogacy trip though. Margaret and Stephen’s spirits were imbued in the
photograph in the same way that the Egyptian gods interpenetrated the objects
that represented them. The priests of old would have understood totally how
Margaret could be in a hospital bed receiving intensive chemo and having coffee and
cocktails overlooking the Nile at the same time. To quote Alan Richardson:
This [journey] is about exploring that realm known as Ancient Egypt. Not the
Egypt which exists today… but Egypt as a state of mind, a level of
consciousness which lies far beneath our own... To the Ancient Egyptian
every aspect of their nation was a lower analogue of spiritual realities, the
whole being an earthly expression of the universe and the soul of man…
Explore one, and you explored the other also. To the Ancient Egyptians,
there was not a great deal of difference. (Inner Guide to Egypt)
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Margaret and her partner Stephen Gawtry. For the pink hat story read her blog!
Mission statement
Our lovely guide Tam kept telling the Solos group with whom we were travelling
‘don’t forget we’re on a mission folks’. His mission was to introduce us to what
remained of ancient Egypt - and to get us to see as many sunrises as possible it
seemed. Our smaller group within a group had a mission within a mission, to become
part of those wonders and use them to assist Margaret’s healing. I had originally
thought I was going down the Nile to relax, revisit favourite haunts, share previous
experiences and do some inner work. Well… yes. I did. But! There was to be much
more to it, so many layers and levels interweaving. ‘Here’ and ‘there’ became one in a
way that the ancient Egyptians knew so well. A kind of metaphysical internet was in
place. What the ancient Egyptians called ‘the intelligence of the heart’.
The intelligence of the heart
Ten members of my Glastonbury summer astrological retreat had expressed an
interest in joining the trip but one by one they were unable to do so. You do know
how to make God, or the gods, laugh don’t you? You tell them your plans. However,
fellow astrologers Terrie Birch, Patricia Korsgaard and Tore Lomsdalen were the
perfect travelling companions.
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The healing companions: Terrie Birch, Patricia Korsgaard, Tore Lomsdalen,
Judy Hall ready for the last night on the boat.
Tore kept me in touch with Margaret on the technological internet and took
great photos, and Terrie and Patricia turned out to be talented psychic
photographers as well as helping to create the metaphysical internet. I didn’t take a
camera because I was exploring Normandi Ellis’s idea that, when walking through
the timeless temples and tombs, you enter into the book inscribed on the walls and
the book enters into you. Egyptian magic. Which chimed nicely with thoughts I’d
been pondering for sometime. After all, it was in Egypt that the ‘as above so below,
as within so without’ premise took root and flowered most strongly. All is indeed
one.
As the scarab is a symbol of rebirth in Egypt and pink was Margaret’s colour
of the moment, as soon as we boarded the boat I bought a beautiful pink alabaster
scarab to represent her soul and carried it with me wherever I went as a point of
contact. The scarab symbolism was to play an integral part in our journey, more
significant than I had imagined. It is the sign of regenesis (spiritual rebirth which
should perhaps be written regen-isis, the coming again of Isis, in honour of the
goddess), and regeneration, a new life to come. The Egyptians considered that the
heart was the most important organ in the body – it was the seat of the soul and
signified the essence of life. It held all feelings such as courage, love, joy and
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sorrow; and the power of thought. The heart was the keeper of the soul’s secrets
and acted as its conscience. Scarab amulets like the one I had bought were placed
over the heart of the mummy in the tomb to preserve the person’s vital power as
they journeyed through the Other World.
c. Terrie Birch
Placing the photo and the scarab at Kom Ombo, note the rainbow of light
above my hat brim and violet light over the photo (see The Big P.S). There’s an
ancient Egyptian spirit hovering to the left above Stephen for those with eyes to
see.
The Book of the Dead, a guidebook for the journey through to the afterlife,
has spells for preserving the heart - which would be weighed against the Feather of
Maat (truth, justice and perfect balance) after physical death to see if the soul
was fit for rebirth into the spiritual life that followed. The heart would always
speak truth and some of the spells implore the heart not to reveal guilty secrets
but to speak instead on behalf of the deceased soul. It clearly had a life – and a
veracity – of its own. For me the trip through the underworld was a symbol of the
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death of Margaret’s cancerous cells and regeneration into a healthy - and united body and soul once more. We have to remember that for the ancient Egyptians
death on any level was just stepping into another world, earth being the
antechamber to greater things. The Afterlife was one of ‘light and joy, energy and
communion, where loved ones could be re-united for ‘millions and millions of years’,
and where the living could search for their completeness.’ (Richardson).
Weighing the heart before The Lord Osiris, papyrus copy. Anubis and Anumut, the
devourer of souls, sitting beneath the balance while Thoth reads from the Records.
The heart of the deceased is on the left of the balance, the feather of Maat on
the right. Once the test has been passed, the deceased is taken forward to meet
Osiris supported by Isis and Nephthys. Here the soul is granted new life.
Luxor (Ancient Thebes) is according to Alan Richardson and Billie WalkerJohn the place above all others where we can give birth to ourselves so it seemed
fitting that we were setting off from Luxor and would return to spend a final few
days there. As they say ‘It is the place where our initiation is completed and yet
begins.’
The transmutation of the Lady of the Flame
Continuing to amuse God - or should that be the gods? – with our plans, we went
first to Karnak Temple in Luxor with the larger group. We were ushered to the
huge scarab statue of Kepera, the dung beetle who pushes the sun around the sky
during the day. We placed the photo of Margaret on the statue and began to
process the traditional seven counter-clockwise revolutions around the statue for
healing and good luck. Kepera is ‘light becoming’, the sun rising out of darkness, an
auspicious and appropriate start. One lone tourist circled in the other direction.
Dyspraxic? Or simply from the other side of the world? It felt deeply significant,
like the dance of the cosmos. Maybe she was acting as a retrograde planet (planets
sometimes appear to move backwards in the sky from the perspective of earth) or
was she representing Chiron the wounded healer ‘planet’ who has a very eccentric
orbit that weaves between three planets interconnecting them?
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c.Tore Lomsdalen
Margaret and Stephen on Kepera, Karnak Temple
c. Terrie Birch.
Placing the photo while the Solos group circle, watched by bemused onlookers, most
were unaware of the service they were performing for Margaret but it all helped!
Breaking away from the larger group, Terrie, Patricia, Tore and I set off to
visit the Sekhmet Sanctuary that featured in my Crystals and Sacred Sites book. I
had my first experience with the powerful statue of the goddess in that sanctuary
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twenty five years ago, which I drew on for my novel Torn Clouds. I always pay my
respects to My Lady when I arrive in Luxor and was determined to do so again.
Having passed through three ‘no entry’ signs, I was looking for the baksheesh man
who holds the keys and who, for a ‘tip’ opens the temple, when out of a deep
excavation in the foundations up popped a French archaeologist. ‘Temple closed!’ she
said firmly. Message finally received and understood. My original intention of
connecting the temples with the chakras had already been thwarted by the tour
company changing the order in which we visited them, putting Edfu and the Other
Side (the West bank at Luxor) on hold until the return trip. Time for a rethink. I
was learning that this journey was to be about being with the flow rather than
doing, and that it had a pattern that was not dictated by my conscious mind:
definitely an intelligence of the heart.
Sekhmet is a goddess of healing but first she was an instrument of
destruction sent out by her father Ra (the sun) to kill off his subjects who were
running amok (see The Story of Re below) – analogous to Margaret’s rogue cancer
cells and the effect of the chemo. Sekhmet was lured into drinking a lake of beer
laced, in one version of the myth with blood-like pomegranate, to calm her when the
killing got out of control. Pomegranate juice, a Venus-attuned substance, featured
large in Margaret’s healing regime at the time but clearly she didn’t need Sekhmet’s
fiery power even though Sekhmet had later become a goddess of healing. Margaret
needed extreme gentleness. Another healing goddess, Hathor (Venus), I was now
told, would be more suitable as the goddess of love and rebirth would hold
Margaret safely in her arms while every cell in her body was transmuted, as would
the Divine Mother Isis (the Moon), the eternal renewer.
c. Judy Hall 1997
Sekhmet in her temple, the shaft over her head is arranged so that she is
illuminated by the sun at midday.
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c. Tore Lomsdalen
The Goddess Hathor holding the Ankh, symbol of life and the lotus staff
symbol of consciousness, Kom Ombo
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Sekhmet breathing fire-light. My apologies to the photographer whose name I have
mislaid but it was my screensaver for many years. I’ll be happy to attribute it.
The Temple of Man
Luxor Temple is where Amon Ra and his consort went for their yearly honeymoon. A
temple of celebration of joy and the fertility of life. Walking the long avenue of
sphinxes that leads from Karnak to Luxor (which has recently been uncovered once
more) is more than just a journey from once place to another. The repetitive but
each slightly different face of the sphinxes (human heads on lions’ bodies
symbolising the solar principle incarnated into human form and made conscious)
open up a new level of consciousness if walked with due attention. The temple is
‘skewed’, changing orientation as it progresses. To Schwaller de Lubicz this temple
was a plan of the perfect man laid out on the ground, representing ‘as above so
below’ and, according to John Anthony West‘s interpretation of his work ‘Luxor is
based upon and incorporates the laws relating to the creation of man and his
spiritual development and destiny. It may be seen as a kind of grand library of
genesis whose ‘books’ are the measures, proportions and harmonies of the building
itself as well as the reliefs and inscriptions.’ Definitely a temple for being in rather
than trying to intellectually understand it (I’d tried that on a previous visit and it
made my head hurt). Not surprising then that I’ve totally forgotten what occurred
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there during this current trip! At least for now. But, as Alan Richardson says, it is a
place of self-initiation. The place where you can take responsibility for yourself and
for your own light.
c. Terrie Birch
Walking the avenue of Sphinxes. Below, Tore has attracted the attention of
an orb. (For a discussion on orbs see The Big P.S)
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c. Terrie Birch
The most potent hour. Luxor Temple just before sunset. Its one remaining obelisk
pointing skyward to earth the power of the sun and recharge the temple’s batteries
This temple welcomes you during the hours of darkness, I love it there just
after the sun has set, so calm and reflective no matter how many people mill around
you. The central ‘holy of holies’ was built by Alexander the Great. I’m particularly
fond of him as his birth was apparently foretold by an ancient Egyptain pharaoh by
means crystal horoscope (see the MA dissertation on my website). Having predicted
that Alexander’s mother would be impregnated by Amon Ra, the pharaoh dressed up
as Ra and ensured that the prediction came true. Luxor is also home to the moon
god Khonsu and this temple’s hypostyle hall pillar bases mirror the phases of the
moon (more of Khonsu later, see The Big P.S).
A quick aside
Before sailing, the four healing companions made a trip to Luxor museum. What
most caught our attention was the crocodile god Sobek (more of him later, see Kom
Ombo) with Amenhopis III, who built the amazing Mut temple at Karnak. There was
a very powerful healing line passing through this statue and through the upper
galleries where another of my old friends, Aken’aton, who featured in my novel Torn
Clouds was displayed. This was to be one of my few trips to Egypt during which I
did not visit Temple Mut to see how much more had been uncovered. 1500 statues
of My Lady Sekhmet have been recovered there and the sacred birthing lake is one
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of the most significant and beautiful in all Egypt. But there was no time so it will
have to wait for the next visit. Roll on the Winter Solstice!
c. Terrie Birch
Amenhophis III, the compassionate face of Ancient Egypt, Luxor Temple
Signs and serendipities
Synchronicity was all around us throughout the journey. After we sailed, I was on
deck experimenting with the ‘Wave over Water’ hieroglyph that looks like the top
layer of the glyph for Aquarius - the sun was passing through Aquarius for the trip
which culminated with a new moon in Aquarius and Chinese new year.
I’d
been told that the hieroglyph was a healing symbol, drawing energy in when pointed
one way and sending it out when facing the other but hieroglyphs have many levels
of meaning, which I was keen to experience. As I held it, ‘Bridge Over Troubled
Water’ floated out of the boat’s sound system. It was part of my connection with
Margaret. An etheric cord linking our hearts. Perfect!
David Furlong has suggested that this sign looks very much like an electrical
charge on an oscilloscope. ‘Two distinct elements - wind and water - are involved or,
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more exactly, the unseen moving the seen.’ And he asks ‘could this therefore be a
symbol of the action of the invisible world on the physical universe?’ Very much so
from my experience!
c. David Furlong
Hathor’s hands offering the wave over water hieroglyph, Temple of Seti I, Abydos
(David Furlong http://www.kch42.dial.pipex.com/egypttour_abydos.htm)
I had printed out the symbol on photographic paper but its effect was
powerful and, in the hope that it would strengthen the energy field around her, I
placed it with Margaret’s photograph to channel healing energy to her.
The signs continued. On our way to Kom Ombo – a dual temple, the only one
dedicated to two gods – there was a magnificent ‘double dip’ sunset. The sun
disappeared behind a hill just as the photographers were setting up. We petitioned
Ra to show himself again and he reappeared and rose up in the West as the hill
changed shape. Resurrection! We perhaps have to digress a little here to explain
that Ra, the sun god, was believed to fight his enemies in the underworld at night,
and then rise again triumphant, pushed by Kepera, to fertilise the land during the
day so sunset and sunrise were pivotal moments in the ancient Egyptian religion. The
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first splinter of morning sunlight was greeted with profound relief. Ra had returned
safely to the upper world.
c. Tore Lomsdalen
The Perilous moment. Ra enters the underworld. Sunset on The Other Side. The
Theban hills are to the right
c. Tore Lomsdalen
The magical moment. Ra rises again. Sunrise in the desert
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Entering the Twin Portals
Duality was a feature of ancient Egypt, but they embraced it and kept it in balance
rather than seeking to enhance one end of the energetic spectrum or the other.
They recognised that there was value in the dark just as in the light. So it’s
something of a surprise to find only one dual temple dedicated to two different
gods in Egypt – other temples have chapels for the various gods within them but
here both reign supreme holding the dualities in harmony.
Kom Ombo was a renowned healing temple in ancient times and its walls are
still covered in medical texts that can be absorbed by walking within them rather
than using rational intelligence. Healing is activated by being here.
c. Tore Lomsdalen
The dual portals of Kom Ombo
We paid due respect to its twin deities Horus the Elder (Mars) the Hawk of
Farsightedness and New Birth (Mars and Sobek – the crocodile god of death and
resurrection representing, it would seem, the planet Pluto (more usually associated
with Osiris) or possibly Chiron, the astrological wounded healer who I would usually
equate to Imhotep in the Egyptian pantheon. Imhotep was an ‘avator’, an incarnation
of Nefertum son of Ptah and Sekhmet who was then elevated to the gods once
again. Margaret’s photo was placed on the altars of Sobek and Horus to hold the
dualities in balance as was the Egyptian way, and to mirror the processes of cell
death and regeneration that were taking place in her body. She was starting her
second round of intensive chemo and accompanying cell regeneration therapy.
When we arrived at Kom Ombo I was reading Imagining the World into
Existence by Normandi Ellis who said:
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‘The power of conscious creation lies in one’s ability to hold the tension
between opposing desires of thought. Life is not a straight line. It is a tide
that goes in and out. We walk because we have learned to balance the
oppositions of right and left appendages. Change and motion are perhaps the
only true constant in the universe… Imagine that the space between your
every breath is that moment of Zep Tepi [the first time]. Every heartbeat
can be that new beginning’.
c. Tore Lomsdalen
Margaret and her scarab on the Sobek altar, Kom Ombo Temple
Regenesis. That seemed to fit rather neatly into Margaret’s earlier philosophical
blog musings and our email exchanges. So, the message was: ‘Hold the balance. Flow
with the tides and stay centered in your body and its processes.’ With beautiful
synchronicity, at the time Margaret was learning to listen to what her body
required as her blog later revealed. She didn’t want to fight the cancer, which
would be fighting herself. As she said:
‘I’ve decided to stop talking about the treatment being toxic as thinking that
way creates such a horrible reaction in my body as it goes in. We all know it
is extremely toxic and that it burns skin on contact, but the alternative isn’t
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exactly attractive either so I am concentrating on visualising the chemicals
as a force for good sloshing through my veins… thinking about soldiers and
helpful liquid sloshing through my veins, I realise that my attitude and thus
my needs are changing. My Mars in Aries has quietened down considerably
through this experience and the soldiers don’t need to go storming through
my system like they did. This is actually very welcome, as I didn’t really feel
it was right for me. Even in the beginning, I didn’t feel that I was ‘fighting’
this cancer. I’ve never done that well with fighting things anyway, and maybe
I felt instinctively that I would use all my energy on trying to win the battle
and have none left at the end to enjoy life. The happiest and most inspiring
people seem to talk about living with cancer and that makes more sense to
me. Cancer is now a part of my life, and the spectre of it in the form of
regular tests will always be there; we would have a very uncomfortable
existence if it was a continually antagonistic relationship. Fighting also
doesn’t marry well with the exceptionally beautiful healing I am receiving. In
the light of this I am working hard at being kind to myself and my body, as it
was the reverse of those conditions that made it sick. To this end I am now
seeing the drugs as a positive force gently washing through my system.’
Exactly what the dual temple of Kom Ombo used in its ancient healing practices only
there the positive force was the gods and the remedies they prescribed. Margaret
later decided to call the chemo ‘happy juice’ and had much less of a reaction to it.
Encounter with Sobek
Then we went to the temple museum. When I first visited Kom Ombo many years
ago, the mummified crocodiles were piled in a haphazard heap in a side chapel
dedicated to Hathor and pulled out to amuse the tourists. Now they are more
appropriately housed in a cool dark room. Sobek is much less disgruntled than he
was. He was even ready to chat.
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c. Tore Lomsdalen
The crocodile god Sobek and Amenhopis 111, Luxor museum
c. Tore Lomsdalen
The mummified gods of Kom Ombo
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c. Terrie Birch.
Mummified crocodile eggs, note the golden egg in the far distance
It was only a small statue, not like the wonderful life-sized alabaster
crocodile god that sits with his arm protectively placed around his pharaoh in Luxor
museum. When I touched that one a jolt of electricity shot through me and my hair
crackled. And when I crossed his energy line elsewhere in the museum, my feet
tingled and pulsed. Electric healing! I’d been thankful I didn’t have Margaret’s
photo with me that day as it would have been too strong for her. Her scarab,
representing her soul, however, drew great strength from it as did I.
But this little guy was different. He was beautifully carved in granite.
Granite is a quartz-studded, highly resonant stone that magnifies and conveys
geomagnetic energies. It is strongly grounding and enduring, resistant to change so
making a perfect receptacle for the essence of the god (you can read more about it
in Crystal Bible 3 and 101 Power Stones). Granite assists with the process of
apoptosis, the natural cell death that allows the biological cycle of renewal and
regeneration to continue so it chimed with Margaret’s chemo and cell regeneration
therapy. Every inch of Sobek’s scaly skin was replicated perfectly but it was his
left eye that caught and held mine like a tractor beam. Intelligent, benign,
compassionate. Here was the God in incarnation, his essence still imbued in his
statue in the old way. In ancient Egypt stone, as with everything else, was seen as
essentially animate and impregnated with the divine. We spoke for awhile. ‘I will
protect you and your friend’ he told me. Many years ago he was on the front cover
of my first psychic protection book which has now been superseded by Good
Vibrations published by Margaret. Now I understood why illustrator and esotericEgyptologist Judith Page had insisted on his illustration rather than Sekhmet’s
gracing that first cover.
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c. Terrie Birch
The tractor beam eye, Sobek still infused in his statue
My new friend then directed me round to his right eye. More quiet.
Intuitive, gentle and healing. Wrapping me – and Margaret – in his light and his
understanding.
Eventually I moved, at Sobek’s insistence, to a granite stela in a case behind
him. Two crocodiles this time. Basking in the sun. Heads laid on rocks and tails
hanging down behind. Sleepy. Chilling out. One eye on us (Terrie was with me) but
unimpressed by these visitors from the 21st century. Hathor, depicted beneath
them, was more welcoming.
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c.Terrie Birch
Dual Sobek and Hathor stelae
She and her priestesses gathered around Margaret, Terrie and myself in
quiet communion offering their support and heart-felt wisdom. Margaret was in
safe hands. So calm and restorative. A sisterhood. That’s the way it has always
been in my enduring friendship with Margaret, who has encouraged me to go deeper
in my writing and, in turn, her wisdom has sustained me. We didn’t even have to pay
baksheesh to take photos, a rare event indeed.
Outside we picked up beautiful, energetic Golden Healer Quartz and a
haematite-infused Quartz that looked exactly like one of the mummified crocodile
eggs we had just seen in the museum. What was waiting to hatch? What was halfborn? Treasure indeed.
Nubian temple stones, c. Jeni Campbell, www.angeladditions.co.uk
http://www.groovycart.co.uk/cart.php?c=2799&cat=Egyptian+Stones
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We even managed to email photos to Margaret later that day and to hear
back that the chemo and cell regeneration therapy was underway. When I returned
to my cabin the next evening, the gentle-souled Mohammed, who looked after it,
had intuitively crafted a beautiful healing mandala for Margaret with these stones.
A great heart-centred gift for her.
c. Terrie Birch
Mohammed’s Nubian Temple healing stones mandala
And indeed, on my return home crystal healer Jeni Powell and I worked with these
stones and others from Aswan in a surrogate grid which was later physically
transferred to Margaret in Jeni’s healing room so that Margaret could do the work
for herself and one would then accompany her into her next intensive round of
treatment.
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c. Terrie Birch
Mohammed starting one of his creations
But, I now had work to do of my own.
Be careful what you wish for
Back in 1991 Alan Richardson, metaphysician extraordinaire and a fellow ‘pupil’ of
my mentor Christine Hartley wrote The Inner Guide to Egypt with intuitive
Egyptologist Billie Walker-John. I devoured it at one sitting. Literally working my
way through the whole book during a one and a half hour train journey, during which
time held no meaning. And I mean Working as I undertook each ritual, became the
book. By the end I was an ancient Egyptian once again, it awoke so much past life
knowledge, and the book has travelled to Egypt with me ever since. The shamanic
journey starts with boarding the Henu boat, the great winged ship of Sokar (Osiris)
‘the Lord of the Mysterious Realms’ which floats not upon water but air and is
powered by sunlight. So eager is it to fly that it has to be chained down when at a
standstill. The authors pose the question: ‘a sarcophagus is carried on board
containing what?’ and answer: ‘Ourselves.’
(See also The Big P.S.)
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c. Tore Lomsdalen
The winged Henu boat with its sarcophagus aboard and Sokar (Osiris) on top,
Abydos
So, Terrie and I sat on deck in the cool of the evening to journey on the
Henu boat through a portal created by the dual temple entrance at Kom Ombo. We
greeted first Sobek at the righthand portal, and listened to his wisdom and then
journeyed to the stars with Horus. For me it was an adjustment of every cell in my
physical and etheric bodies so that the light that the higher vibration crystals I
was working with were bringing into my being could be assimilated and grounded into
earth. I brought the dualities within myself into equilibrium and filled my heart
with love. I felt whole, complete in myself. But I was aware of an energetic ‘gap’
beside me (not within me). The lack of a complementary male energy. I have written
in another book published by Margaret, The Soulmate Myth, of my heartfelt desire
for a twinflame – a soulmate without the karma and soul lessons. The kind of
mutually supportive, beneficial soul expanding relationship that Margaret had found
with Stephen – the story of which also featured in that book.
In my journey the creator god Ptah – husband of Sekhmet – appeared on my
righthand side. A god I have worked with many times as he pummels and shapes
souls on his potter’s wheel ready for incarnation. His mummy-wrapped form is like
the chrysalis stage of transformation, full of awesome potential. He stands
between Sekhmet’s dual qualities of destruction and renewal. This was always the
Egyptian way. Ptah is one of the most ancient Egyptian gods who ‘is the capacity we
all have for making and creating and inventing things… also the creation of words
and ideas.’ (Richardson) He is an essential part of magic.
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Pharaoh before Ptah who holds the shedshed wand, his wife Sekhmet and their son
Nefertum with the uas wand, a symbol of personal responsibility and self-creation,
a lodestone that points to the strongest source of power and wisdom available to
the seeker.
In my visualisation, Ptah was golden magnificence with his close fitting
helmet, breastplate and mummy wrappings shot through with flame-red. His magical
shedshed staff too was gold. According to Alan Richardson this staff has elements
of rebirth and renewal. It contains the djed pillar that was the backbone of Osiris
and symbolises his entrapment in a tree (read the myth in The Big P.S), the ankh or
womb of Isis, the basal fork representing the dualities of life on earth and a
smaller ankh emerging from the top symbolising birth. Alan says ‘The shedshed,
when brooded upon, becomes a disturbingly potent symbol with facility for keeping
the meditator awake a nights. The answer to the question ‘How do you understand
life on earth’ can be answered by every individual’s interpretation of this staff.’
Ptah was stunning. Fully alive and able to move despite his mummified form.
He more than adequately filled that energetic gap. When I left the temple through
the Horus portal he accompanied me. After our Henu boat had landed and Terrie
and I were sharing our experiences, I told her that the energetic gap was filled
although it would be nice if he could manifest physically sometime soon. Be careful
what you wish for! Or rather, be careful how you phrase what you wish for. I forgot
to add the words ‘animate and fully incarnated in the present timeframe in an
appropriate physical body’.
The next evening I was in the jewellery shop on the boat negotiating for
presents for my daughter and grandchildren with the lovely Raphael (named for the
Archangel of healing of course). Can you imagine the shock when I went to my cabin
to fetch some cash, switched on the light and there was a magnificent red and gold
ancient Egyptian sitting in the chair by the window? He had piercing blue eyes that
followed me around the room. Spooky or what? Mohammed had crafted him from
28
pillows, towels, bottletops, a ghalebiah borrowed from the shop and slippers from
the spa. But somehow he had been imbued with life. To my mind, Mohammed was
definitely an Egyptian priest in a former life and intuitively knew the old ways. So
Ptah, or H’er Khat as my visitor told me his name was, had manifested. He was
reading The Osiris Labyrinth – my bedtime book. He was on the righthand side of
where I slept, filling that energetic gap. Once more I was sleeping beside an ancient
Egyptian. So, when I went to bed, I redid Alan’s Osiris journey, sinking into the
earth to become one with it and have the last remnants of the past stripped away
to be reborn and the new energies to be integrated. It was a long and interesting
night! Which will be drawn upon for my next novel, of course. I forgot to mention
that I had intended to work on that during this trip. Next morning I gazed into H’er
Khat’s mesmeric blue eyes and asked that he manifest fully animate and incarnated
in a modern day physical body of the right age and preferably with blue eyes to
indicate my twinflame. H’er Khat was whisked away by Mohammed during breakfast
but I will report in due course.
c. Tore Lomsdalen
How do you fancy coming back to your cabin to be greeted by this?
29
Mesmerising blue eyes
c. Terrie Birch
A short P.S. here. The gods’ sense of humour has continued to manifest.
When I returned home I realised that a nobbly lump of pink Aswan Granite I had
brought back had, when turned the right way up, the eyes and nose of an ancient
Egyptian but was lacking the lower jaw having only a tiny mouth. So I now have a
H’er Khat crystal skull and intend to perform an opening of the mouth ceremony so
that he can communicate at an appropriate time. But when a highly intuitive crystal
worker, Jeni Powell, held the skull she found two more faces. So I have a triple
faced skull awaiting its moment of resurrection. Which face will speak? Or will all?
Each has something different to say no doubt.
Aswan the beautiful
And then there was Aswan. My heart always lifts as we approach this magical,
peaceful place especially by river. One of my most favourite spots, so soothing and
calm.
30
c.Tore Lomsdalen
Aswan from the nileometer on Elephantine Island. This was where the annual lifegiving Nile flood was measured. Note the water-worn rocks on the other side.
Water would have rushed through this channel and engulfed them on an annual basis
as the flood could rise 15 meters or more
Rescued from the waters of the old Aswan Dam, the temple of Philae holds a
particular place in my affections because, when I first visited, Christine Hartley,
who had recently passed to the other side, came to walk with me in the evening
twilight to remind me of the time we had been priestesses together at this temple
just before Christianity took hold. It was one of the last strongholds of Egyptian
belief, the refuge of Isis (the Moon) and her husband Osiris (Pluto). Despite having
been moved after its submersion, Philae temple is a place of power for me that still
holds the imprint of the gods.
The journey to Philae is magical. It has to take place by boat as the temple
now sits in the middle of a serene lake. This time the smiling Nubian vendor who
came aboard was most welcome, he carried locally made hematite jewellery that was
highly protective. I was at the far end of the boat and watched his approach with a
rising sense of excitement. By the time he reached us, Terrie and I bought most of
his remaining stock and I collected more on our return, which is now on
www.angeladditons.co.uk
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Happy days: jewellery shopping with Terrie on the way to Philae.
See http://www.groovycart.co.uk/cart.php?c=2799&cat=Egyptian+Jewllery
Entering Philae sanctuary between the lions of yesterday and tomorrow
In the Sanctuary of Isis the photo of Margaret was first placed on the altar
in the Holy of Holies. Isis and Osiris’ mythological journey of death (see the myth
in The Big P.S), replicated in this temple, with its dismemberment and resurrection
theme seemed fitting and reassuring. Regenesis was on the way.
32
The photo was then taken to the Temple of Imhotep. Imhotep was a
renowned healer, a mortal man who was elevated to the status of a god like Chiron
in the Greek myths. I wanted to petition him for healing for Margaret in the old
way. His temple has Hathor (Venus) columns all around it and you can see in the
photo below what happened when I held Margaret’s photo above a block with the
face of Hathor on it. That shaft of light is not sunlight. It is light coming directly
from the third eye of the Hathor face on the column above, down through my crown
chakra, out through my third eye, through Stephen and into Margaret’s throat.
Terrie by this time was taking incredible, mystical ‘orbs’, colour sheets and
convoluted light-beam photos but this was the most impressive so far. (For a
discussion on Orbs see The Big P.S) When I’d told Liz Dean, editor of my Hamlyn
crystal books and Kindred Spirit magazine, that I was going to Egypt and could feel
an article coming on, her reply was ‘Don’t forget Kindred Spirit especially if you
have amazing photos.’ Here’s the answer!
c. Terrie Birch
Imhotep Temple, Philae. The shaft of light is emanating from Hathor’s third
eye on the column above me
33
We had been told that we had healing to do for all of Egypt, which was a
very troubled place at that time and continues to be so, so the task is on-going. The
Arab Spring revolution had not brought the changes that were hoped for and the
people were suffering, especially in Upper Egypt which relies so much on tourism.
The plight of women was perilous. So, at the High Dam we stood over the river and,
with my big Smoky Brandenberg Earth Healer and a clear, rainbow-filled Magnifier/
Record Keeper Quartz to which Terrie had attuned we sent healing up and down the
Nile to bring a speedy and peaceful resolution to the conflict.
c. Terrie Birch
Nile healing crystals at the High Dam
The Barren Lands, Aswan High Dam c. Terrie Birch
34
c. Terrie
Birch
To send earth or water healing anywhere in the world, concentrate your attention
on this photo for five minutes
Imhotep
35
c. Terrie Birch
The Nileometer after the Nile healing ceremony
36
c. Terrie Birch
More Hathor healing, Elephantine Island
But we weren’t finished yet!
Land of the lost souls
The Nubian people are beautiful, shining souls. They hold the last remnants of
ancient Egyptian magic. The lovely Mohammed is a Nubian, trained in the Aswan
hotel school to create his incredible sculptures and, whether he knows it or not,
following the ancient tradition of imbuing life into seemingly inanimate objects. Our
shamanic boatman in Aswan (see below) was a Nubian, instinctively following the old
ways. Such a friendly and hospitable people, Nubian history is nevertheless a dire
and tragic one. The original inhabitants of the land of Egypt, inscribed on tombs and
temples, they flourished as a civilisation for over three thousand years and were
37
then overwhelmed by waves of invaders. The Coptic Christianity that followed the
Romans, then the Arabs with their alien culture into which to some extent they
were assimilated. But they were powerless before the next invader: water. Over
130,000 thousand people were displaced by the Aswan High Dam, their ancient
villages and burial places flooded and temples were engulfed although some still lie
empty and forlorn on what was once fertile land but is now desolate sand. I had
made that journey a few years earlier and was aware of what had been lost.
The Flooded Land, Abu Simbel under threat as the waters rise.
When Terrie Birch and I walked into the Nubian museum at Aswan the whole
weight of the people’s displacement overwhelmed us. It began with two mummy
cases and their priestly occupants who had glaring spotlights over their eyes. They
would have empathized with Margaret’s blog protests about being woken up by
glaring hospital lights at 5.30a.m. But it quickly became apparent that the museum,
which photographically recorded what had been before, had become a focus for all
those numberless lost souls whose ancient land had been submerged or ravaged. In
ancient Egyptian thought, the soul was divided into several parts and the ka, a kind
of etheric double with concentrated creative energy, and the khebit, the shadow,
remained with the body at the tomb although the ka could travel elsewhere, while
the soul bird, the ba, and the spiritual essence, the akhar ,travelled to the spiritual
realms. Some of this understanding appears to have remained with the Nubians
even after they took on other religions. But without the tombs, the ka’s and the
khebits had clearly lost their anchors to the earth and lacking their connection with
the ba and the akhar didn’t know how to move on.
38
Outwardly we were just two tourists paying particular attention to the
exhibits. But inwardly we were psychopomp priestesses, conducting souls to the
Other World. We spoke to the souls of the mummies, trapped under the glare of
the spotlights. We thanked them for the wisdom they had brought us and helped
them to move into Light opening a portal for them to leave by, calling on the ancient
gods to assist. Walking around the corner we found the perfect physical
embodiment of the portal in stone – a large Kepera scarab in an open sided, roofed
box.
c. Tore Lomsdalen
The soul retrieval portal, Nubian Museum, Aswan
The priestesses waited on the far side of the portal to call the souls
through. Then we found an ancient Egyptian psychopomp to lead the way. She was
an exquisitely carved, ‘small head of an unknown woman’ according to the museum
label. Imbued with spirit, Mer’aber, beloved of Khnum, was clearly a wise-woman,
priestess of her tribe. The most clear and beautiful soul waiting quietly to assist
her people, just needing intention to set off the soul retrievals and clearings. It is a
good thing that time has no meaning on the Other Side. We were able to leave the
displaced souls streaming through the portal, safe in her hands.
39
c. Terri Birch
The nubile Nubian portal keeper
‘Coincidentally’ (there is no such thing, synchronicity was at work again!)
while we were at the High Dam sending healing down the Nile and prior to going to
the museum, Terrie’s husband had texted her John Romer’s description of the
women of ancient Nubia:
‘If you look South from Aswan and let your mind fly over the backwaters of
the Nile you will come to the ancient land of the Nubians famed in ancient
times (and still I believe) for its beautiful and graceful young women who
selected their mate from the young men of the village by performing ritual
dances as a group – naked – and at the end of several hours of dancing and
rituals in a grand finale chose their man – who was sitting by now probably
40
exhausted through erotic anticipation – by standing in front of him and
resting one thigh on his shoulder. The ancient Pharaohs and aristocracy
thought very highly of Nubian women as you can see in many of their
artefacts and paintings of slim, naked black women dancing in a group. The
Nubile Nubians.
All very reminiscent of a last-night-of-the-cruise party on the Nile – except
for the wearing of ghalebiahs (the long robes that Egyptian men still wear today,
elaborate versions of which tourists are encouraged to take home, I use them for
rituals). Our psychopomp was a very nubile Nubian indeed but full of dignity and she
so reminded me of Margaret’s soul-full-ness. I trust that those lost Nubian souls
have now reached an Afterlife full of joy, pleasure and dancing after their
displacement. In helping them find peace, it brought back some lost and displaced
parts of my own soul. Just as one person making a shift helps the many, so too do
the many assist the one. As above, so below. As without, so within. The maxim of
the great Egyptian magician Hermes Trismegistus.
Meanwhile, back at the Nubian museum, a displacement of another kind was
being healed. The stones of Nabta Plya, the oldest stone circle in the world, and its
calendrical avenue, have been uprooted from their desert home of the last seven
thousand years and relocated in the grounds of the museum without, it would seem,
due regard for their previous orientation. While Terrie and I tended the lost souls,
astrologers Tore – also a skilled archaeoastronomer - and Patricia bedded the
stones into their new home, checking the alignments and imbuing the stones with
energy once more.
c. Tore Lomsdalen.
41
Nabta Plya. The large stone circle, repositioned to the Nubian Museum, Aswan
.
c. Tore Lomsdalen
Nabta Plya ‘calendar alignment’. Note the orbs top and bottom
c. Terrie Birch
42
Never was afternoon tea on the Old Cataract Hotel terrace more richly
deserved.
Respite care
The next morning, while the rest of the group joined the arduous 3 hour each-way
convoy to Abu Simbel, Terri and I decided that we, and Margaret, were templed out
so we went for another very civilised chill at the Old Cataract Hotel, relaxing on
the Agatha Christie terrace which has the most amazing view. I drank an excellent
coffee and Terrie a glorious pinky-orange cocktail for Margaret (well, as she said,
someone had to do it even though it was 10.30am.)
c. Terrie Birch
Cocktail Madam?
As Terrie’s camera showed, blue healing orbs were all around us. But it
wasn’t just in those photos. The shot that accompanied us from the beginning was
metamorphosing too. In the photo Margaret became more and more ethereal with
the soft golden light all around her head and intense blue around her throat chakra
– exactly where the shaft of light in the Philae temple had touched. While Stephen
became even more of the earthy Virgoan that he is, providing an anchor while her
spirit soared and regenesis occurred. Magic indeed.
43
c. Terrie Birch.
Aswan from the Old Cataract Hotel Terrace, and orbs, below
c. Terrie Birch
44
In the afternoon, as she’s a Cancerian and loves cruises, we took Margaret
for a sail around the tranquil and stunning islands of Aswan to recharge as, by this
time, she was well into her second round of chemo and we could feel that it was
proving challenging for her. The regeneration had not yet begun. But even there
magic followed. Our boat had a black feathered heron skin complete with beak and
wings pinned up, and a scarab placed overhead. We were under the shadow of the
shaman. Our smiling Nubian boatman assured us that the bird had died naturally,
and had offered itself up to keep the boat and its occupants safe. The ancient
Nubian religion – as with the ancient Egyptians - was full of such shamanic practises
and it still holds good today.
Under the shaman’s shadow
45
c. Terrie Birch
46
The Return
Reluctantly, it was time to leave Aswan and the boat headed north again. As it was
stopping at Kom Ombo for a new group to explore the temple, we decided to go
ashore too and give thanks to the gods for the work so far. But oh how different it
was this time. Masses more vendors trying to inveigle us into buying their tut – I’ve
always called them ‘shoo-flies’ because they have the same tenacity and aggravation
qualities. Now, with so few tourists, they were desperate. They were analogous to
what Margaret was writing about in her blog, the impossibility of rest in hospital
because of constant interruptions by the staff, and, of course, the cancer cells
that needed shooing out of her body – she was still undergoing her intensive chemo
at that point. However, the Order of the Fly was the highest decoration for valour
in ancient Egypt and I am trying to adjust my view. I have to say, some of my
greatest Egyptian treasures, such as my first Sekhmet statue, have come from less
insistent vendors in the past.
Having finally made it safely into the temple, the guards were extremely
aggressive when we tried to light a joss stick. Baksheesh didn’t work so we took
refuge in the museum again where I introduced Patricia to ‘my’ Sobek statue and
she learned to communicate with crocodiles. Just before entering the museum, our
attention was directed to the enormous well that used to serve the crocodile
enclosure. Stagnant and in need of healing itself, we cleansed and purified it with
the Petaltone Zl4 and Clear2Light essences without which I would never travel and
made a crystal offering.
We were behind schedule so it was late afternoon before we got to Edfu,
the Horus (Mars) temple which was to be the culmination of our river trip. I had
high hopes for this temple as I’d found it invigorating when I visited before and
Horus is a symbol of flying free. It also has some interesting astrological texts.
But, as an astrologer, I should have looked at the transits first. Once again I was
amusing the gods. Our caleche driver was surly and took us through the back
streets to the far side of the temple so we had to fight our way to the entrance,
smiling grimly and saying ‘la shokran’ (no thank you, one of the few phrases I
remember in Arabic) to the insistent shoo-flies.
47
c. Terrie Birch
Horus (Mars) on guard outside Edfu Temple
c.Terrie Birch
Patricia and Judy entering the mysterious realm
Inside it was getting dark and the energy was changing. Some temples are
wonderful places at night. This was not. It was as though the god was shooing us out
48
of his sanctuary. We were not welcome there after the sun had left. The temple
was mirroring Margaret’s body where the chemo was viscously destroying her cells.
c. Terrie Birch
Above, Temple of Edfu just after sunset, c. Tore Lomsdalen. Note the light
to the left in the photo below, which had evolved from a squiggly line see below
49
The squiggle approaching and changing form, see below. It is darker because of the
exposure used. Is this really dust refraction? (see Big P.S) c. Terrie Birch.
50
c. Tore Lomsdalen
The reconstructed Solar Barque in the Edfu sanctuary
We ran the gauntlet to get back to our caleche and I have never been so
thankful to arrive back on a boat. I usually feel so safe in Egypt no matter what is
going on there but this was different, an out of this world kind of angst.
Terrie had the same feelings too so when we went through Esna lock we
stood on deck facing in different directions and released all the anger and
aggression, backwards and forwards throughout time, putting peace and harmony in
their place. As it was the ‘last night’ party we were both in lotus-embroidered deep
blue ghalebiahs and so looked – and felt - like two ancient priestesses.
When I finally looked at what was going on astrologically, Mars, a symbol of
anger, aggression or assertion in the chart, was conjoined in the same area in the
heavens with Chiron, the wounded healer planet. Chiron is about integration but is
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also about lancing the boil to let out any poison before healing takes place. Uranus,
the catalytic planet of transformation was sextiling them and Pluto, the planet of
regeneration and rebirth challenging the whole combination. As one of my clients
put it, ‘sextiles are the quickest road to hell because it seems easy until you get
there and then whoosh… you’re in it.’ Again, there was such synchronicity with what
was going on with Margaret and the astrology of her birthchart slotted in
perfectly. She had been discharged from hospital the previous day. Her blog says:
The rigours of hospital, its lack of peace, extreme bias on western concepts
of care (obviously) and awful food take a huge amount out of me, and one is
discharged to go home feeling very depleted indeed. It is pure irony that the
doctor always asks, ‘Do you feel well enough to go home?’ I was so close to
saying, ‘No, I feel so bad I have to go home,’ but didn’t. [Perhaps she should
have, her cancer is after all in her throat and all those unspoken words add
to its hold, but this would be addressed later in her treatment when she
finally told the nurse in charge how bad things were and the style of care
changed]They have no idea…
[At home] I was able to let go of the discomfort of my body and soar
upwards towards the safe place where I could tune into it and hold it gently
as it wept. And weep it did. The chemotherapy is one thing, and I am slowly
coming to terms with the necessity of its toxicity, but the other drugs you
are given to counteract the side effects are quite another thing as they are
unbelievably damaging in their own right. My body was screaming
‘Noooooooooooooooooooooo!’ to all the other stuff as I meditated. As I came
out of the meditation I knew what I had to do…
Remember what I said about Chiron-Mars needing to lance the boil and remove the
poison? Margaret discovered that many of the more distressing symptoms she was
experiencing were due to the side effects of the additional drugs and her body just
could not cope. So she did some EFT:
‘Oh my word. The flood gates opened. One of our cats, Rowan, was sitting
next to me and she made a cat equivalent kind ‘Ah no, poor you’ type of noise
and climbed up to lick away my tears. Really. The only reason I have gone into
this much detail [see the blog] is to show people who haven’t found time for
it, or don’t think they need it, HOW IMPORTANT IT IS TO LISTEN TO
YOUR BODY.’
So while we were running the gauntlet – another martian activity – Margaret was
undergoing a massive release and coming to a resolution that ultimately brought her
to an understanding of the difference between letting go and opening up:
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‘Letting go is a release, whereas opening up is an invitation to visit. And are
we brave enough to see who will come visiting?’
One of the Egyptian gods perhaps? (But see Be careful what you wish for, ask for it
to be the most appropriate and helpful one for you!)
c. Tore Lomsdalen.
Safe in the wings of Hathor
Journey to the Other Side
Monday was to be pretty much taken up with shifting from the boat to the hotel so
Terrie and I paid a quick visit to the Mummification Museum in Luxor. A nice bite
sized museum this one, the process is carefully documented and they have a few
well chosen artefacts including a beautiful statue of Sobek. ‘Don’t forget what I
told you,’ he admonished me. ‘Close and protect yourself but open your heart. Don’t
try to figure it out, go with it.’ So go I did.
‘You want go Other Side?’ is a common enough invitation in Luxor. You hear it
every time you walk down the Corniche. Yes, I did indeed want to go other side. I
usually go after I’ve visited Karnak but this time the schedule was dictated and was
to be after we arrived at the hotel for our final few days. Fortunately the whole
group had opted for the excursion to Medinet Habu, my favourite mortuary temple
the entrance to which is guarded by two statues of My Lady, Sekhmet. This time I
had to laugh because one was carefully wrapped in plastic to protect it while
renovation work was being carried out around her. The other smiled a welcome and
gave me a much needed power-recharge. My stamina was beginning to flag by this
stage. Too many early mornings!
53
c. Terrie Birch.
‘The birth house and entrance portal at Medinet Habu. The blue arrow points
towards the statues of Sekhmet beneath the temple pylon.
My Lady under wraps while restoration goes on, c. Terrie Birch
54
c. Tore Lomsdalen
Battered and bruised but still imbued with power, the other Sekhmet
statute at Medinet Habu
I’d left Margaret’s photo in the coach as I didn’t feel she needed to be in a
mortuary temple although of course it was the place where the Pharaoh’s body was
prepared for resurrection and life eternal. But I had her scarab with me in my bag
as her soul needed to re-cognise this process of dying in order to live again so, in
addition to presenting it to Sekhmet, I took it into the holy of holies where the
spiritual resurrection process began.
The sanctuary is the centre of living energy… Invisible forces emanate from
the solar resurrection body. They spiritualize the world and enlarge people’s
hearts. Christian Jacq ‘The Tutankhamun Affair’.
I picked Margaret’s photo up for the journey to Hapshepshut’s temple at
Dair El Bahari, which is situated at a very ancient healing site known as the home of
Hathor even before the temple was built. I got extremely cross with our tour guide
when he showed the group a distant view of the temple, explained a bit about it and
said ‘you’ve got 20 minutes, you could have a coffee instead of going up there.’ It’s
an amazing temple. ‘I’m going to the top,’ I snapped and stomped off. I was annoyed
because he was impatient to take us to another retail opportunity (as if we hadn’t
55
had enough of those already!) but, on reading Margaret’s blog later that day I
realised I was also releasing some frustration for us both.
OK – we are at Saturday morning and the tedium has hit. I came in Thursday
and we got cracking on the first round, which was about 3 hours, then for
yesterday and today I’m having 2 cycles a day of about 3 1/2 hours each.
There is quite a lot of fussing around making everything sterile and checking
the dosage so although the actual chemo dose is 3 hours the whole thing
takes longer than that. Which isn’t so bad if it is all happening in the
daytime, but we didn’t get started until nearly 10.00 last night so it didn’t
finish until after 1.00 this morning. Thankfully Stephen had bought me the
boxed set of Sex and the City, so Carrie and the Girls saw me safely through
until the bitter end. I managed to get settled down and asleep by about 1.30
and was having the most amazing dream. I think wonderful dreams are sent
sometimes just to give us a break from the less pleasant things we have to
go through – a sort of mental holiday. I was sublimely foxtrotting round a
ballroom (and yes, I can foxtrot, and it is my favourite dance) with lovely
swing music playing and sort of misty edges to the ballroom so it just faded
away. I was probably wearing one of those amazing floaty dresses from
Strictly Come Dancing, but I can’t remember now because next it was ‘GOOD
MORNING! HOW ARE YOU TODAY? CAN I JUST TAKE YOUR BLOOD
PRESSURE?’ and my lovely dream was torn asunder. Lights full on, I was
dragged kicking and screaming into the reality of Saturday and another day
of treatment.’
However sometime later when speaking to a consultant and explaining how bad the
side effects of the drugs she was being given to counteract the side effects of the
chemo were and what was going on with her heart for the third time that day:
In my fragile state I had to go all through it again, only this time I was
getting angry. I asked him how he could possibly expect me to have any kind
of a life when apart from dealing with the effects of chemo, I also have to
now contend with being totally incapacitated and needing 24 hour care for 2
days every week or so, because I am keeling over from the drugs that they
insisted I take. Which weren’t working anyway. Lyn moved in with a final
thrust and he wrote the prescription [for a much reduced dose].
Next stop ECG, where I was trussed up like a turkey with the heart monitor.
The sensors had to be interwoven with my tunnel lines, then all the cabling
hidden under my t-shirt, with the magic black box clipped to my waistband.
Walking Frankensteina doesn’t begin to describe it. We thought we would
take a jolly down Christchurch High Street just for a laugh to see if I could
do so without tripping over my own cabling. I did, and Lyn bought me a lovely
lunch.
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I am sure you can imagine that all of this is very damaging and intrusive, even
for someone who is well, but it isn’t an experience that can be avoided or
stopped, once it has started. You just have to deal with it. My big challenge
seems to be in learning to deal with these events from a place of calm, or
mindfulness, so that worries about the future and what may/may not happen,
and whether or not I have control over it cease to affect the present
moment. With this in mind, and in great need of inner calm (heart still
jumping about) I went joyfully the next day to see my friend Crispen for
some sound therapy. If you haven’t done this, try it. It is truly an experience
sent straight from heaven. The first time I had a treatment I was reduced
to tears by the sheer beauty of the sound. This isn’t like a gong, or chanting,
or anything you can possibly imagine. It is the music of the spheres
incarnate. If in some greater realms there are lofty celestial halls thronged
with wise, loving souls, then this is their backing music; no ersatz, horrible
lift music for them, oh no. This glorious sound truly sings the soul back home.
You lay on the floor within a pattern of crystal and glass bowls, positioned so
as to align with the chakras; other acoustic wooden and metal instruments
are also used to enhance the process when appropriate. Struck firstly one by
one (with a wooden stick covered in suede), the bowls are then eventually
used in combination to produce stunning harmonies which last for an
eternity. The sound goes straight through you, into your very bones. This
time I also saw colours. Careful readers from previous blogs will note that I
am on a journey of introspection and I was interested to see what this
healing session would produce. When Crispen got to my throat chakra I was
expecting a very strong reaction as it is not only the site of the cancer but
also the place where I feel most blocked. (Obviously). This means that
anything emotional tries to come pouring out, which frankly can be a very
unpleasant feeling as I want to both release and block at the same time. It is
always a battle and I don’t enjoy it at all. I have done a huge amount of
releasing, and the fact that there still seems to be a bottomless pit of
emotion indicates to me that whatever I’m doing isn’t working. This time was
different though, and it only elicited a few tears, in a very gentle, ‘Oh yes’,
kind of fashion. The very clear message I was getting was to open up. I had
already started to feel this in previous sessions of EFT and meditation so it
was good to have it confirmed in such a beautiful and gentle way.
Introspection is all well and good but you still have to have a sense of
direction: I am enjoying the experience of quietly watching to see what
comes up, and to see where following that whisper leads me. So I was lying
bathed in sound, wondering why I was finding it hard to open up. I saw
myself, almost from above, as being closed and scared. Closed down, although
I had done so much work in the past on letting go. Why? How much more can
I do? But letting go is different from opening up, isn’t it? Letting go is a
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release, whereas opening up is an invitation to visit. And are we brave enough
to see who will come visiting? Enter the fear.
Once we start talking about fear and get over the obvious ones, fear of
dying, fear of losing your job, partner, health, etc., you start to look at how
fear actually affects your daily life, and how it might have been a pattern
since early childhood – possibly rooted in some almost imperceptible slight or
incident many years ago. My mum told me how I would have nightmares as a
tiny tot. This grew into a fear of blowing newspapers (there seemed to be a
lot where I lived, near the marshes in Essex), men (?!), and loud noises. What
on earth was going on in my impressionable and unformed mind that could
possibly have upset me so much, so young? I wondered how I would be able
to find out, then I realised that it doesn’t actually matter. I realised that I
try to understand the world using logic a lot of the time. Although I am a
Cancer Sun and empathise in a watery fashion all over the place, my way of
understanding any crisis is where my very left-brain, logical Virgo Moon runs
amok. I think I do this too much. It occurred to me that what I am dealing
with is something that doesn’t necessarily have an answer. I don’t necessarily
need to know that a particular event, either in this life or a previous one, has
created the reaction of fear in me, and it is that I need to spend time with.
I have spent huge amounts of time going back to forgive, integrate,
acknowledge events and people that have hurt me in the past, and in past
lives. You name it, I’ve done it, and for me, that strategy (good Virgo word)
isn’t working. I am watching a beautiful presentation by Thich Nhat Hanh on
mindfulness and fear. It is the worry about the future (which is pointless)
and sadness or regret for the past (which we can’t change) that intrudes on
our present and I know I am guilty of both.
Both Stephen and I are finding that our world is changing tiny bit by tiny
bit, on a daily basis. We have always talked about these kind of things but
our conversations now have a passion and vigour they didn’t before. This isn’t
just armchair philosophising or intellectual discussion. This is a real life
situation that needs more that just band aid and placations, and it offers, as
nothing has before, a massive opportunity to explore our inner landscapes
and wonder at the complexity and potential contained within. As Joseph
Campbell says, ‘We must be willing to get rid of the life we’ve planned so as
to have the life that is waiting for us.’ Amen to that. (Out of Darkness)
Light was beginning to dawn and has continued to do so ever since.
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Horus, in the form of a bird-headed winged serpent guards the entrance
ramp to Deir El Bahari
c. Terrie Birch
Dair el Bahari, the reconstructed temple
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But once again the gods were laughing. When I puffed my way to the upper
level of the temple with Tore, I found that the innermost/uppermost sanctuary
which had been a renowned healing cave before the temple was built was closed off
as there’d been a rockfall. Perhaps I should tell you that this tiny sanctuary had
been the one place in all Egypt that I’d tried for 20 years to baksheesh my way into
and failed. And yet on my previous visit in 2004, it had been open and I’d had a
powerful healing experience there. But not this time.
c. Tore Lomsdalen
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Note the shamanic faces in the rocks above especially to the left and
centre. These are all along these cliffs. This place was sacred long before the
temple was built. Photo
c. Terrie Birch
In front of the innermost sanctuary, Deir El Bahari
So, we placed Margaret as close as we could get and set off at a run to the
Hathor part of the temple for another Venus experience. Bliss!
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c. Terrie Birch
The Hathor Temple, Deir el Bahari
We’ll pass quickly over the tombs in the Valley of the Kings. I wanted to
show the others the astrological ceilings and star clocks and fortunately most of
the relevant tombs were open but they were nothing to do with the transformatory
inner journey Margaret and I were on – at least I don’t think so but I am still trying
to keep my head out of it.
A monument to eternity
We were now at our last day and one of the main reasons for four astrologers
making the trip had been to see the Dendara zodiac – well, the replica anyway, the
original having been removed to the Louvre. And of course the amazing Nuit, the
sky goddess, ceilings which are thankfully still intact. While you’re travelling to
Dendara you might as well go the extra miles and visit Abydos, home of Osiris and
the opposite end of an energy chain to Philae – more linking of the dualities. Abydos
is also a cosmic temple. Terrie had decided to have a chill-out day, so Tore, Patricia
and I tore along the new desert road in the care of our young driver Bono who was
much amused that my first visit to Egypt had been made before he was born. He’d
never been into the temples, despite taking tourists there regularly, so he became
the fourth member of our party.
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c. Tore Lomsdalen
Nuit stretched out her arms above the registers recording the mummification
process and the resurrection of Osiris
.
What struck me most about the new road was the number of cemeteries
already lining the route. It’s some distance from the fertile part, although water is
being trucked in to bring life and create some astonishingly green patches amongst
the barrenness. So, new life alternated with death. Very Osiris-like as he is often
represented by new shoots emerging from a mummy. I wrapped Margaret in a
protective bubble and called on Hathor to bring her safely through.
c. Tore Lomsdalen
Hathor-headed (Venus) columns
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Both temples were blissfully empty, of tourists and shoo-flies although I was
able to buy a couple of ‘golden’ Ankhs, the symbol of life, from a sweetly-smiling
child.
The Osirion at Abydos has always fascinated me. Way below the main
temple, it is often deeply flooded. Last time I was there the water was a bright,
fluorescent green that extended several feet up the pillars. This time though only
the 9 metre deep channels on either side were full and fishes were visible, it was
possible to walk down to where the reeds were being pulled out to open up the
clogged passageways yet again, a cyclical task. A glimpse of the rebirth to come?
c.T. Lomsdalen
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The Osirion being cleared of its reeds. The pools are 9 metres deep and
filled by the Nile. The wall of Seti I’s temple is above to the right.
Let’s backtrack for a moment. Do you recall the Henu boat? There are many
on the passage wall leading out to the Osirion. The Boatman for that journey is
Kha’m-uast, ancient high priest and crown prince of Egypt. ‘Keeper of the Secrets
of Heaven and Earth and the Duat, who knows the Necropolis and the Temple, who
was a persistent Traveller himself on all planes of existence, who eternally renews
himself through cycle after cycle’ (Inner Guide). He is a powerful link to my mentor
Christine Hartley and a chain of transmission that stretches back through the ages.
Abydos is as far as he takes travellers coming up the Nile from the Delta, the
journey to Thebes is left for intrepid travellers to do alone. Luxor to Philae, the
journey we had been making, is for the initiated. In the Inner Guide Alan and Billie
Walker-John remind us that Kha’m-uast served Ptah (remember him?), one of the
oldest gods and sometimes known as ‘the Opener’, and indeed Kha’m-uast had come
to talk to me when Mohammed created Ptah in my cabin and I performed an opening
of the mouth ceremony to bring life to my vision.
The Hennu boat with Sokar (Osiris on top), copyright as shown.
The underlying mythology of Abydos is that when the god Osiris was
chopped into pieces by his brother Set, the pieces were scattered at places where
temples were later built along the Nile (see the story of Isis and Osiris in The Big
P.S). But Abydos, traditionally was where Isis later buried him and his tomb was the
focus for a great yearly festival to honour the god (see The Inner Guide to Egypt
for an evocative description). His story is told on the walls of the roof chapels and
his death and resurrection were re-enacted as sacred drama. As Alan says ‘if
[visitors] could by pilgrimage and devout acts, and a bit of shopping in between, link
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with his spirit in some small way, then they too could live for ever, just as he does…
Osiris offered hope to everyone.’ Sounds rather like our Nile trip to me!
In my experience, Abydos is one of the temples where you can gather the
scattered parts of yourself together and become whole. In Alan and Billie John’s
esoteric endocrinology it represents the pancreas (see the Big P.S). As they say
‘even today there is a discernible, numinous quality about what is otherwise a barren
place and the feel that a person might step bodily through in certain circumstances
if only they dare.’ Oh yes!
In The Big P.S I’ve put some musings about what the neters (gods) mean and
this is a prime example because Osiris resonates so strongly with processes that
are going on within Margaret. As The Inner Guide puts it so well:
In Abydos, amongst many other things, the circle of consciousness and the
life-force of the individual with all its cycles of growth and decay and
something-in-between, was Osiris. But beyond all else where there was
Osiris, there was love; and where there was love Osiris could be found also.
c. Tore Lomsdalen
Osiris on his bier
.
The High Priest Kha’m-uast was the fourth son of Rameses II was one of
Egypt’s great magicians. He was particularly fond of Abydos and sited his
‘Monument for Eternity’ there. His statue is now in the British Museum but the
false door remains. In another sphinx-like statue made, as Alan points out, from
flawed material, he proclaims that, although of legendary status, he was human
underneath. Whenever I’m at Abydos I read the words from his tomb, the false
door and his stelae so that he will not be forgotten – and to pay my fee to the
ferryman for the journeys I have made and the wisdom I have received. This is
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just a selection so that you can invoke him too if you need a guide to the inner
planes:
Journeying in the morning barque across the heavens, the Sem-Priest
and King’s Son, Kha’m-uast goes without descending or passing away.
What heaven gives, the earth brings forth and Nun brings forth from
the heights for the Chief Artificer, Sem-Priest and King’s Son, Kham-uast,
justified.
May the Sem-Priest and King’s Son, Kha’m-uast live like the stars live
in the sky. May he see Hathor.
May the Sem-Priest and Kings Son, Kha’m-uast live like the stars live
in the sky…
O Atum, may you give breath to the King’s Son and Sem Priest Kha-muast, this sweet breath which is in your nostrils. The King’s Son Kha’m-uast,
justified, takes his seat upon this great throne…
A Monument to Eternity, Kha’m-uast’s statue in the British Museum.
On this occasion rather than finding the false door in the maze of the main
temple, I chose to sit above the Osirion to recite his words, making an offering of
incense, and to do a throat-chakra clearing meditation that Terrie (who joined us
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for the occasion by mobile phone) had given me in which we opened the lotus at the
throat chakra and then slid down into cool clear water to release as bubbles all the
words locked into ourselves, Margaret and the people of Egypt so that we could
speak our truth – an appropriate setting as the guys were pulling out the reeds
below us opening the way to the tunnel to eternity. Not so appealing given the
somewhat scummy nature of the water itself. But bubbles always rise up from its
depths as it is fed from the sacred, life-giving Nile. Deep down it was clear and
pure and fed the soul.
But there is more to Abydos than the Osirion. The temple of Seti I has
amazing roof chapels rather like Dendera where you can sit under the protection of
the sky goddess Nuit and follow the journey of Ra on the Hennu boat through both
the upper and lower worlds, and bask in a beautiful Hathor chapel with cosmic
ceiling.
c. Tore Lomsdalen
The Hathor Chapel
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c. Tore Lomsdalen
Dendara: Venus (Hathor) –Moon (Isis) conjunction alongside the head, hands and
arms of Nuit (to the left) who is swallowing the sun at sunset. Nuit’s feet are in the
bottom right corner of the ceiling.
This picture must depict a specific moment in time when the setting sun on the
horizon was accompanied by moonrise, with Venus, as the evening star, also visible.
But there is also deep symbolism in the ‘cow’s horns’ rays which plot the
Venus cycle as visible from Earth: see http://Egypt\Goddess Hathor Cow Horns
Crown Astronomy Relation.mht
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c. Tore Lomsdalen
On the way to the roof. Note the orbs in the foreground on the Bundle of
Life staff that carries the placenta of the Pharaoh. This represents the kha,
national soul of the nation and Pharaah’s link to the divine. His ba soul-bird is to the
left of the staff
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The cosmic dance
And off we went to Dendera, a place of deep delight for astrologers and ancient
Egyptians alike. This is a Hathor (Venus) temple and as the texts on the walls say:
Pharaoh comes to dance
He comes to sing.
You, his Lady, see how he dances.
Wife of Horus.
See how he springs
.
c. Tore Lomsdalen
Blissfully peaceful, the temple of Denedera drowses in the afternoon sun. Below the
astrological roof chambers
.
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c. Tore Lomsdalen.
This tatty plaster cast is all that remains of the earliest round zodiac in its former
home
At New Year the statue of Hathor was carried to the roof of the temple so that
the revitalising rays of the sun could energise her and a great fertility festival of
singing, dancing and sexual union took place. She was the consort of Horus (Mars) at
Edfu and there was much to-ing and fro-ing between the two temples. In its other
role, Dendera was another of the great temples of healing where all manner of
psychological and magical therapies took place. Miracles were commonplace and
water was collected from the roof and the sacred lake to be given to the sick.
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There was definitely a rebirth theme going on as Margaret’s cells were at the time
being transmuted by the chemo and cell rejuvenation therapy and her pomegranate
juice regime.
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c. Tore Lomsdalen
Bono having an astro-astronomy lesson, young Egyptians are not taught their own
mythology.
It is in the depictions of Nuit (the sky) and Geb (the earth) that the magic
really begins for me in both Abydos and Dendera (they are extremely difficult to
photograph as they are on the ceilings of cramped chambers, so all credit to Tore
for the photos reproduced here). When the sun is in Nuit’s belly it is the dark
night of the soul) and she is just about to give birth. The start of a new day.
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Nuit and Geb were twins who ‘cleaved to each other’. Their father Shu (air)
prised them apart and forced them to live separately. Forever after Geb yearned
towards his sister-wife although Thoth (Mercury) stole the ‘dog days’ that lay
between the sun and moon calendars to give them time to mate and birth their
children. This is an ancient story that I used in The Soulmate Myth to illustrate
how old the concept of a soulmate or twinflame is. I thought of Margaret and
Stephen when looking at Nuit arched over the curled-over Geb with their fingers
and toes almost touching. So tender and yearning. Twinflames indeed. Stephen and
Margaret are so fortunate to have each other at this time. Stephen is a treasure. I
could see him anchoring Margaret into this world while letting her spirit soar.
c. Tore Lomsdalen
The hand of Nuit, the sky goddess, Dendera
c. Tore Lomsdalen
Geb the earth god curled over under the sheltering body of his sister-wife
soulmate Nuit
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c. Tore Lomsdalen
Head of Nui
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c. Tore Lomsdalen.
Geb, the earth god is curled around himself to the left of the picture with his arm
outstretched reaching towards the hand of Nuit on the right. Above: Geb from
another ceiling. This picture suggest to me that the ancient Egyptians understand
the rotation of the earth.
Margaret’s experience has released in a different kind of creativity in her.
She’s written in her blog about getting so immersed in Zentangles that she could
forget about being in hospital (when the staff would leave her alone long enough). I
love the idea of Zentangles, much like hieroglyphs as they create many layers of
meaning. Hieroglyphs are ideogrammatic, invoking a series of concepts and ideas
rather than merely one fixed meaning, and are capable of triggering an emotional
response. So, for instance, an owl (mulotch in Ancient Egyptian) represents the
letter ‘m’ but beyond this it is also the universal concept of wisdom, secrecy and
seeing in dark places. Put it together with the symbol for a chairback and you get
the name ‘Sem’ the wise priest who lends us support as we explore the mysteries.
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c. Terrie Birch
The ‘m’ hieroglyph is on the right, the one to the left which looks like a bone is the
symbol for flesh and bone and also for progeny
Looking at hieroglyphs brought me back to what Normandi Ellis says about giving up
trying to understand with your head but instead walking within the book:
Hieroglyphic images work upon the psyche through symbol, association,
metaphor, story and sound. They require the spiritual aspirant to slow down,
to meditate, to intuitive, and to dream… God speaks through the eyes, the
ear, the heart, and the natural world… As they entered the book, the book
entered them.
We had one more amazing experience in this temple, but we wouldn’t know it
until we were home again. Having been down into one of the underground crypts
(which I believe to be part of ancient initiations as I wrote in Torn Clouds), Tore
climbed up to one of the mysterious ‘crypts’ set into the thick walls – this one
decorated with belly dancers. Patricia, no mean belly dancer herself, took two
psychic photos – even more spooky than seeing H’er Khat manifest. In one Tore is
flooded with golden light although there was no sunlight and precious little electric
light in the chamber. In the other it looks to me as though many layers of his inner
self are being shown and at least one incarnation as an ancient Egyptian. As Tore
said, he loved that temple and felt totally at home there. I think he was - especially
as he’d done a regression to a life as a ‘sky-watcher’ priest in the ancient temples
the evening before! That hair-like line beneath his arm is not a hair on the lens, it
also appeared in several of Terrie’s pictures, changing form from moment to
moment. Exactly what it is has not become clear – yet.
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c. Terrie Birch
The Venus cycle. Hieroglyphs embody many levels of meaning as this Hathor
si strum (musical instrument) in the hands of Pharaoh shows, see also the
‘cow’s horn rays’ above.
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copyright Patricia Koorsgard/Tore Lomsdalen
Stepping through the worlds. The many faces of Tore. Camera was held absolutely
still and there was no fault with the lens. Subsequent shots were fine.. Note the
squiggly line to the right. I see an ancient Egyptian in the background.
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c. Patricia Korsgaard.
Photo in the same place seconds earlier. There was no light source that would
account for the golden light, note how the line beneath the arm changed form
Our driver Bono offered us the choice to return on the old road on the
other bank alongside the green, green fertile Nile, coming full circle. A few speed
bumps and checkpoints to negotiate but a highly successful trip. All that was left
was to pack and leave for the airport next morning – well before sunrise once more.
I was able to buy a beautiful sparkling alabaster Sobek for Margaret to guard her
during her passage through the Other World.
Much reflection has been going on since and new insights will no doubt arise
about my own process and how it intertwined with both ancient Egypt and
Margaret’s journey. I’m letting the connections percolate naturally, thinking is
proscribed for the time being! Jeni Powell’s guide told me that I would probably
never know all that had been done and I’m content with that. It was part of being.
But see The Big P.S. for the latest news.
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The last thing I said to Terrie before we parted was that I was tired of
‘working’ on myself as that meant that there was always something wrong with me,
and so I was going back to one of my favourite affirmations ‘I am perfect exactly
as I am in this present moment.’ It was wonderful to have that confirmed by
Kindred Spirit arriving the next morning with the affirmation printed alongside a
bright pink tulip – Margaret’s colour of choice for hospital visits and Hathor’s own
special hue. Heart-centred intelligence indeed. I leave you with a quote from John
Anthony West’s Traveller’s Key to Ancient Egypt which also accompanies my
travels:
Egypt was a gigantic act of magic.
c. Terrie Birch
Light become
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And a final reminder from The Inner Guide:
Ancient Egypt exists within all our futures.
Alan Richardson
c. Terrie Birch
This way to the future! Watch this space
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Acknowledgements
I would like to acknowledge with grateful thanks the skills of my fellow travellers,
the photographers Tore Lomsdalen, Terrie Birch and Patricia Korsgaard. Their
companionship and sense of fun, and their kindness and care for Margaret and
Stephen. Also the members of the Solos tour who played out their parts without
knowing they were taking part in a mystic drama of epic proportions. And much love
to Margaret Cahill without whom the journey could not have been made. Her blog
can be found at http://wwww.margaretcahill.wordpress.com/. Blessings too to
Stephen Gawtry for the Normandi Ellis book and to Alan Richardson and the late B.
Walker-John for starting the process so many years ago. And to Christine Aziz for
allowing me to use the first verse of her poem-in-progress The Ancient Gods see
http://www.wordsfromarevolution.com/. Her hymn to Isis is simply amazing, so
relevant throughout aeons of time.
Judy Hall crystals including a limited supply of Nubian temple stones are available
from: www.angeladditions.co.uk
Indispensible accompaniments for the journey which can be accessed through the
Amazon button on my website www.judyhall.co.uk:
For instructions on how to make the journey to the Sekhmet Sanctuary yourself
with the aid of a crystal see:
Crystals and Sacred Sites: Use crystals to access the power of sacred landscape
for personal and planetary transformation Fairwinds Press £12.99
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Torn Clouds: a timeslip novel of romance and regeneration Kindle or paperback
version: http://www.amazon.co.uk/Torn-Clouds-Judy-Hall/dp/1903816807/
ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1365343079&sr=1-1&keywords=Torn+Clouds
The Inner Guide to Egypt, Alan Richardson and B. Walker-John; Imagining the
World into Existence, Normandi Ellis; The Travellers Key to Ancient Egypt, John
Anthony West
Clearing essences: Petaltone Zl4 and Clear2Light www.petaltone.co.uk
For events following our return, go to The Big P.S.
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