Chapter 14: I Am Eternity, He Says


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I am Eternity, He says,

The giver of light and shadow on your journey,

Mine is the voice in the bleakness of the night of confusion,

One that carries you across chasms of fire and desolation.

Hear me Seeker of Secrets that tantalise,

Tear apart notions of Selfhood,

For you are but one imprisoned in flesh and emotion,

Seek to understand that which lies within,

And discard all foolish yearning.


Who do you think you are little orphan of Earth?

Where do you think you are regent without a throne?

I see your Heart and Soul,

See them blaze like dying stars bleed their last,

Yet, all is not lost, without purpose and vision.

See how they quiver, yearn to save their children,

As Life emerges from Death,

Walks through flames of immolation.


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Again I ask,

What is it that you seek?

Take my hand and walk with me on roads of no return,

Step between the worlds and enter through silent doorways,

Glance at what lies between,

Cracks in time that yield all and nothing.

Witness things not meant for the living,

Only for the Becoming.


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He pauses, waiting on her answer. Having come this far what else is there to do? Go with him, regardless of the consequences. He opens his hand and flings sand in the air, grains of time, unceasing in their flow and rhythm. The Storyteller feels a tugging in her heart, its whispers sound so vulnerable. The Great God of Death and Transformation sees and hears all, soothes the fearful heart with gentle tones. Her hand reaches out to his and they clasp each other like old friends. The long road into the desert opens and closes the path behind them. They enter the great silence of the World Soul, one illumined, the other paused on the threshold.

Anubis leads the Storyteller deeper and deeper into the expanse of emptiness, or so it appears. There is no escape from yourself and thoughts in the great silence, all is reflected back, for the Self to answer and for the Self to listen. The past approaches, seeks resolution, the present stands still waiting, the future is silent but vigilant. The Storyteller feels a welcoming breeze, hears its tales of wonder, hears the song of the Crested Ibis, hail mighty Djehuti, God of Wisdom! Ancient gods rise from shimmering heat, peer through veils in space and time, peer at a spark of light with gaze impenetrable. They know what waits and how she will fare, for they have tested her mettle with heat ferocious.

The path is endless and anticipation heavy. Then, Anubis stops and points to a hole in the ground. She peers down to see a body laid on its side, the body positioned West to East. The woman is dressed in a simple garment, with a few possessions arranged around her. Her grave is a hole dug in the sand. The god and human step back and watch a procession of people approach to offer their respects. Prayers and petitions are offered to the God of the Dead, uttered in tearful tones are pleas on behalf of one who has passed from this world. They are soon gone, vanish into thin air. The Storyteller approaches the grave and stares at the woman intently, for it is her lying in the grave. The god lays a hand on her shoulder in sympathy, to see oneself as a corpse can be annihilating. The Storyteller weeps for herself and all that has been lost over time, including memories. In her mind’s eye all she can see are grains of sand flying through the air.

The Storyteller opens her eyes and is surprised to find herself in a tomb, dark except for a source of light at the end of the tunnel. Anubis asks her to walk towards the light, and to be mindful of where she places her feet. She must rely on all her senses to guide her through this place of silence and darkness. The tunnel seems to be endless and the darkness heavy. Her fears emerge from the depths of the mind and the tomb to taunt her mercilessly. She stands her ground, otherwise it would mean obliteration. Her voice warns the unseen terrors that she will be heard, will not be intimidated. She begins a chant to rise above all that emanates from fear and evil, on and on it rises, moving her from the dark to the light. Soon, she is standing in the inner chamber.


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‘Is this the place of Becoming’ she finally asks.

He looks at her with knowing and humour.

‘It is and soon’ is all he says.

Anubis holds a dandelion seed head in his hand. It bursts into flame.



Chapter 13: Heart of the Matter


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The return journey to this blog has been long overdue. Much has happened, some good, some bad. Regardless, the Storyteller looks back on her journey and marvels at its futility and necessity. The two have been bedfellows for a while, and like most lovers, disagreed ferociously, only to melt into each others arms later. A pretty picture don’t you think? She smiles and shakes her head.

The Walker Between the Worlds, Anubis, has appeared, disappeared, and reappeared on numerous occasions. The Storyteller wonders whether her primary mission has been to no avail. The Great God of the Dead was the mystery sought, a light shining in the darkness of concealed truths.

There were others, ancient names of power, encountered in terrain unfamiliar and puzzling. If the search was for an ancient Egyptian deity, what was the purpose of these characters  in this drama? Were they the inhabitants of a psyche gorged on mythical symbols? What message did they bring with them? At this point in time the Storyteller cannot tell as her mind is enshrouded in unanswerable questions.


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She raises her head to the heavens and wills an answer, demands someone, anyone, state truthfully the real purpose of her meandering odyssey. For she has forgotten who she was at its start. Such a terrible thing to admit don’t you think? So be it, surrender is the only option left if the Heart and Soul are to have any meaning and chance of regeneration. The weighing of her heart is yet to come in the Hall of Ma’at, a prospect that should cause fear and trembling. But, does it?

Does it? She has faced fear, in the darkest night illuminated by one lamp. Held back terrors hidden in forests real and imaginary. Fear, the great predator stalking her seemingly fragile persona. For fear is not Ammut, the great devourer standing by the Scales. It is the thought that our heart will betray us, judge us harshly, obliterate our name. Render us null and void. It becomes a thing of stone.


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She pauses, is this fear mongering? Perhaps, perhaps not. Although a thought to be packed away in a closet and brought out now and again. As a salutary lesson of course. It is vital to be reminded of death in life, and vice versa. Vital to take on the role of the fulcrum of the Scales. The Storyteller turns to face us, looks us straight in the eyes. As if to say ‘do you understand?.’


Chapter 12: Reflections in the Eye


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It’s been a while since I posted anything on this blog, probably for good reasons. The journey into the hinterland has been filled with innumerable cliff hangers for me. The focus of my magical travelogue has appeared and accompanied me through difficult moments, and then vanished into the vast desert landscape. I’ve realised now that this is only the beginning, the road ahead disappears into the stars, the “Imperishable Stars” as ancient Egyptian texts were so fond of quoting. To follow in the footsteps of Anubis is to plumb depths of the well of your own soul. I’ve had to clear away a lot of silt from the bottom of this well, buckets full dear people. The water hasn’t been of the utmost clarity as a result. It’s improving though.

Many times I’ve wondered whether this endeavour was worth all the pain, ill health and challenges. Yes, he says. “All the more to break down the hardened carapace around you. Disintegration is necessary in order for life to proceed and flourish”

So be it.

The Walker Between the Worlds also opens the Way. Takes the aspirant to a specified point on the journey and then hands them over to the guardianship of another. He has prepared the way for a new order to emerge, for a soul that has reassessed its goals and reason for being. Sometimes the soul’s outdated behaviours and subconscious fears may kick back and refuse to go. The “reborn” soul has then to decide on a course of action, face the intransigent upstarts and refuse to be swayed from their decision. Emotional blackmail is an unpleasant and manipulative entity. It preys upon our vulnerabilities and seeks to drag us back into the toxic pool of past grief and insecurities.

The soul should stand and look at the chimaera of psychic detritus before it. Compassion is not an option here, it may come into play but should not seek to undermine the soul’s resolve. Does that sound harsh? It isn’t, why seek to embrace that which has wounded and parasitized your very being? That experience may have changed you beyond your dreams, transformed you into a person you thought would never be, uncovered strength and courage that lay dormant for eons. The negative experiences soon become ephemera floating on winds that bring news of fantastical lands beyond the horizon.

A new Guardian then steps out of the shadows to face you. In this case it’s a being I’ve known and cherished for a long time, Tehuti or Thoth as he is known to many. Anubis has revealed profound mysteries (up to a certain point) on the path but there is more to be unveiled, digested and integrated. He is one third of the Triad and Tehuti takes up the reins of the chariot to take the soul further into new vistas, convey wisdom that may be understood in light of the soul’s rebirth. The Demiurge, also known as Lord of Time, Wisdom, Science, Magic, undertakes to teach this student mysteries beyond the earthly plane and lying within the heavens. They appear as reflections in the eye, portal into the soul that lies within the chamber of regeneration; being a vessel for the waters of life to reside in. They lie at the heart of the storm, one that rages in the world of material manifestation. One in which Mind and Heart face Chaos and Growth.

I face Tehuti, with a quizzical expression on my face, a little nervous perhaps. It’s been a long time since the two of us met, the relationship needs to be reinvigorated. He smiles at this. I shrug my shoulders and smile back. Relationships need a boost from time to time to keep them fresh and living. He offers a bunch of cornflowers and poppies, must have read my mind, they’re a couple of my favourite flowers! I accept with thanks and bow my head in respect.

As for my gift, I open my palms to reveal a diamond heart, emanating brilliant, penetrating light. He blesses it, an honour indeed, one that I’ve been waiting for. I hug him impulsively, a little overcome by emotion. He doesn’t appear to mind. For one brief moment I sense the enormity of the mysteries around us, an endless sight of diamond bright stars against a purple and navy backdrop. The presence of infinity captured in a snapshot. I leave him standing on the shore looking out into the heart of the mystery.


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Chapter 11: Future Visions


Image: Jan Malique

Another door opens and the Walker Between the Worlds steps through. Mighty Anpu all praise to you from the heart that remains steadfast! He looks with a steady gaze, walking through the corridors the Heart. The uas sceptre points at things unrevealed therein. The Storyteller bows and walks forward into the unknown thus revealed. The stars fall from the heavens, the Imperishable stars are no more but a dream. The future waits but is a place beyond anything seen before. Skies of Lapis Lazuli beckon, shrouding many things, whispering tales yet to be spun.

The road that lies here is unending, the road that lies behind is unending.

“What lies in the future?” she asks and he answers “ceaseless motion. The waves of time crash against the rocks of eternity”.

He speaks in riddles to test and provoke thought. For this and much more has she travelled. The Scales call, Ma’at’s feather glistens, heart shivers, Ammut waits. The Storyteller gazes, lost in thought. The vision fades, swallowed in sands of forgetfulness. The Duat waits and its calls is heeded. The time is now, more roads to travel, more secrets to reveal, more stories to be written.

The road that lies here is unending, the road that lies behind is unending.

“What lies in the future?” she asks and he answers “ceaseless motion. The waves of time crash against the rocks of eternity”.


Image: Pixabay

Soon, soon, her mind enters into ceaseless motion, carried far and wide in the ocean of eternity, Nun. It is Chaos manifest at the dawn of creation, womb of beginnings and endings. Voices, so many voices, whisper, ask questions, demand answers. Powers shape, powers mould. Nascent life waits, dreams of future visions. Words cannot express what is inexplicable, they fall like dying stars into heavenly furnaces, the places of transformation. The All Seeing Eye opens, showing reflections of sacred things, awe-some and fearful at once.


Image: Pixabay

In ancient places do they walk, Jackal god and Spinner of Tales. Thus does the light of understanding gleam in her eyes, ushering in remembrance of lives to be lived, of lives to be treasured.

Soon, so soon does Nun recede, from sight and all thought. It is None and No-thing, containing within the possibility of Everything, being Zero and Beginning. Dreams of future visions.


Return – Chapter 10

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Image: Pixabay

How many moons have crossed the sky in my wanderings through this world of illusion? They stretch into infinity it seems. How unobtainable you appear, orb of pearl and dreams and object of fascination. A line from one of my favourite films comes to mind. Bette Davis implores Paul Henreid not to ask for more in their fraught relationship:

Don’t let’s ask for the moon. We have the stars.”

Indeed. Luna has been imbued with much mystery and longing. It’s been used as an instrument to corral time. Time, how it eludes, drives to distraction. It weighs heavy and infused with regret and expectation. I carry the past and future within the chalice of the present. What a responsibility! All that’s been written and read about you Anpu can be put back on the shelves of the Akashic Library. I’m at a point where such knowledge can’t explain who you really are. You surprise me with another aspect that’s maddening and alluring. Continue reading

Realm of Shadow and Sighs: Chapter 9


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‘Deep breasted Ge, how exalted are thee above all.’ The words still echo in my mind. We stood in the holy of holies offering our service and fidelity to this most ancient of beings, Creatrix, Destroyer and one of the protogenoi (primordial ones). I was someone else then, not gone but slumbering. Waiting to be called once more. What sights I have seen and experienced as to render me almost speechless. My life story may appear rather bizarre at times. From priestess, healer, Sumerian alchemist and now storyteller. There are more but those lives are not yet ready to be revealed. It is the same for the path to the mysterious ancient Egyptian god Anpu. The Opener teases me mercilessly it seems. My senses are unsettled after witnessing the death of that star. I’ve watched many pass through the gates of death but still my heart feels their pain and sadness every time. The secrets are unravelling like an endless ball of yarn. These thoughts envelop me in a mist, so much so that the man’s approach is missed. His voice carries across the space between us. I turn and see a mature, bearded man with long curly, dark hair. His eyes are bright and filled with a calm attentiveness. There is a hare sitting patiently by his side. Continue reading

Cosmic Fire

The next chapter in the Storyteller’s Journey


May your eyes go to the sun, your life’s breath to the wind. Go to the sky or to earth, as is your nature; or go to the waters, if that is your fate. Take root in the plants with your limbs.
Death, v 3, The Rig Veda

I stare at Unut, She who was once Snake is now Hare. It seems my totem animal is still with me after all these years; remaining not visible yet very much present. Returning to the point of origin has its drawbacks. It raises unsettling questions within the mind as thoughts of life and death walk past. Djehuty intended us to meet and I now understand why. This story is important for me and must be savoured at leisure. As so many have reiterated, life and death are cyclical in nature. Accepting our mortality and that of loved ones can be a truly…

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