The Phoenix

How then is a new spring, a new source of living water to be found? How the rock struck? With which wand, and under what mandate?

It is by the gathering of a few friends with a common purpose. And with a faith in the reality and good will of those in the spiritual world whom they seek to make contact, and from whom they will receive protection, enlightenment and teaching. This gathering of friends in common purpose and respect is the natural warmth that is spoken of in alchemy.

To warm the alchemical still of the ‘first matter’, the prima materia. To hatch the cosmic egg so that a live chick shall be born. The alchemical bird, that at first needs careful nourishing, but which will grow by due care and process into a powerful creature indeed, an immortal phoenix.

And this element of the alchemical bird being a phoenix is further indication of how the spark of the Mysteries, once lit, is passed on. For the original fire, even if largely smothered, banked up by its own ash so that it hardly gives out further light of heat or living flame, can burst forth again. Any ember from that source of inner fire can be fanned by those who know and care, into a new manifestation of the phoenix – which will rise in a blaze of wonder and glory as powerful as ever it was when first hatched, induced and evoked.

This is a natural path of progress in the Mysteries over the course of time.

Gareth Knight, The Abbey Papers

The Stone Philosophical

Make pure thy sense till thou art dust
That out of dust thy grass may grow:
When thou art hay, then burn thou must,
Thy fire most mightily must glow.
And when at last thy dust is burned,
Thy ash to Wisdom’s Stone is turned.
Then live by the Stone’s grace.
This stone it is of noble race.
The Phoenix by its lightning flashes
Will burn till he is turned to ashes,
Then rises younger from the flame.
This Stone the Grail they name.

The Stone Philosophical, Rosicrucian verse

Circle of Shamans

I felt extremely alert, nervous in fact.

Up in the sky with the eagle all had been blue day, but here on the ground I could see it was black night and that the fire was only light visible in this entire place. I could just make out a number of men – between 5 and 9 – seated around the fire watching me intently. I took them to be tribesmen/shamans, largely because of their appearance. They seemed to be of Asian stock and were wearing woolen hats covering their ears woven of multi coloured threads.

They seemed to be dressed in a combination of wool and leather and were very watchful without seeming aggressive.

They spoke to and interacted with me (I couldn’t hear anything, I just sensed it) but seemed really quite cautious. They were not hostile but they did not smile. I experienced some doubt around this point and was suddenly aware that I’d been told not to ‘play with fire’ (bearing in mind I was pretty much standing in one) and warned especially against salamanders.

I hopped out of the fire and retreated very quickly to the edge of the camp, which I circled quite restlessly for a while. Worryingly, there was nowhere to go, the darkness was impenetrable beyond their circle and I have always been afraid of the dark.

I sat out there on the edge, on my own, for quite some time, but eventually the lack of light and concern for what might have been ‘out there’ drew me closer to the group around the fire again. It seemed there was no escape.

At that point, one of the shamans presented himself as a guide, possibly reluctantly; I’m not sure if being female helped me in this respect. Nevertheless, I was told to relax and not to fear the darkness or the situation. I had little choice but to acquiesce, this being their territory after all.

Very peculiar things then started to happen.

The camp-fire was mesmerising and I found myself continually insisting on getting into it, as if hypnotised or entranced. After indeterminate lengths of time in the fire I would then worry (quite irrationally, I suspect) about salamanders, whereupon I would somehow ‘whizz’ out of the fire at breakneck speed and jump straight into the mounds of soft snow surrounding us, as if to convince myself that I wasn’t burning up.

I did this several times at explosive speed for no reason whatsoever that I can discern. I’ve no idea ‘what’ I was doing or even what I ‘was’. The movement between fire and snow was incredibly forceful and I was totally absorbed in the elemental procedure.

At a certain point I stood looking up from the centre of the orange flame which seemed to encompass everything, and wondered whether – if the eagle had indeed been shot down – I might see a phoenix. The next time I leapt out I managed to ‘cocoon’ myself entirely in fiery/watery, spinning light.

Is this how a star is made, I wondered?

Eagle ride to the Himalayas

I was staring so hard at the winged being that even in that ‘state’ I began to meditate upon it, until I was slowly drawn towards it. As I got closer it began to look increasingly bird-like.

Before I actually reached it – while I was a few feet away – it seemed as if I was somehow becoming one with it, or closely attached at least; the only thing in my mind was what was before my eye, which at that point in time was like a bird. A white bird. The only thing in my mind was ‘white’ bird and as I thought of this in my eye was a dove.

At this point in time I realised I was actually thinking I was at one with a white dove and wondered if I was just ego-tripping. I wondered if I should stop, but for no apparent reason a voice told me not to think about that kind of thing.

We were rising upwards vertically – floating rather than flying – and I was conscious only of the being itself and the blue sky peripherally surrounding us. As we rose higher the bird began to change into a swan and other large, white birds, until it was like an eagle in form. Maybe even a Phoenix, I wondered, but I didn’t know if this could be right.

When we finally finished the ascent – I knew it was very, very high up in the sky – the eagle began to fly in a particular direction with me on its back. I kept very close indeed to the bird’s head/shoulders, so that our faces were almost touching.

I had the distinct impression it was very cold indeed and that we were heading to an even colder place. We seemed to fly for quite a long time. I like hot climates and the cold weather bothered me, it seemed uncomfortably cold.

The sight of a huge, white triangular shape made me realise we were flying towards – and would ultimately fly above – snow-capped mountains that I was told were the Himalayas. The flight over the mountains was spectacular. We followed a very narrow ridge for a long way and there was nothing but snow and sky to be seen amongst those razor sharp peaks.