Tag Archives: Psychology

Petals of the Rose

Petals of the Rose

Guided Journeys

Sue Vincent

A collection of guided meditations, designed to open aspects of the personality in as gentle and natural way as the petals of the rose open at the touch of the sun. Each inner journey will carry you to a haven within your own psyche from which to explore layers of your own being, learning their meaning and purpose.

From mystical and silent castles, to the song of the unicorn… each journey takes you deeper into your inner being and carries you out beyond the stars…

Continue reading at The Silent Eye

St Just…

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Not only did our last hotel

fail to provide any windows, to speak of, in our room,

  it also failed to provide us with a breakfast…

*

Which is just as well, really,

for we were up, and off, and away

long before breakfast would ordinarily

ever have been dreamed of…

*

However, by nine bells one might be forgiven

for expecting the local sea-front eateries to be offering

something in the way of refreshment?

*

Not so!

So, we headed for St Just…

Continue reading at The Silent Eye

Nightingales: July Zoom Cyber Room…

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The Self, is it real or a psychological illusion?

In this hour of focus on what many consider to be our most precious possession, we will look at the arising of the self and its potential.

Many mystics have considered that we have a self and a Self.

What is the difference?

Does one subsume the other or do they meet halfway.

Join us for some spiritual companionship, fun and discussion on what might just be the most important topic of our lives…

Continue reading at The Silent Eye

Grand-Solar-Minimum…

*

Big Bee was packing…

“Haruppa,” said Teigue-the-Fool.

“Trunks,” said Big Bee carefully placing a mental tick on his list…

“The Myceneans,” continued Teigue doing likewise.

“Goggles,” went on Big Bee…

“The Tang, Shang, Hang and Yuwen Dynasties,” countered Teigue.

“Snorkel,” laughed Big Bee, recalling much happier times…

“And the Mayans!” finished Teigue with something of a flourish.

“What about them?” asked Big Bee, finally acknowledging the somewhat cryptic utterances of his advisor in chief.

“They’re all empires which collapsed when things got colder,” said Teigue, with a sly grin flicking the edges of his thin mouth.

“Well, I’m counting on a little sunshine, for the next six weeks at least,” smiled Big Bee.

“Don’t forget these,” said Teigue waving wood and cat-gut at him.

“Ah, princess tippy-toes she, erm, she doesn’t play tennis,” grimaced Big Bee with no little regret.

“They’re snow-shoes,” said Teigue-the-Fool, quietly…

*

 A Questionable Science:

Love and Death in the Time of COVID 

by Stuart France and G. Michael Vasey

‘The Gallows and Gibbet Inn’, proclaimed the sign, which singular nominal ought really to have aroused, if not my shackles then, at least my suspicions. 

Too late, Anu was already tugging me over the threshold into the warmth, and the light, and the sound of voices, and music…

…They were all in there!

Black Jack Davey… Teigue-the-Fool… The Miller’s Son… The Sorcerer’s Apprentice… H.R.H. the Lord of the Elements, and one-hundred-and-one other far less savoury characters.

Most of them in their cups. Reprobates all! And what a tale they had to tell.

If you have ever wondered why all the public houses are shut.

You had better pull up a chair…

*

Now available in paperback and Kindle formats on Amazon

‘The Book of Assassinations’

sheffield chesterfield hare 003

We were determined not to get wet, so we went to Chesterfield, on the general principle that there would be both indoor parking and a cathedral big enough to keep us both dry and occupied for some time. We got those points right… but we failed miserably in the staying dry department as the heavens open and the chill, northern rain pelted down. As my companion made a judicious dive for the porch, I found a convenient tree under which to shelter the camera and get some shots of the famous crooked spire.

sheffield chesterfield hare 004The church dates to the 13th Century and the tower was added in around 1362. The tower is twisted by 45 degrees and leans 9’ 6” from true centre. Several local legends tell how it became so contorted, many have to do with the Devil and the purported virginity of brides. Wikipedia says : “One well established legend goes that a virgin once married in the church, and the church was so surprised that the spire turned around to look at the bride, and continues that if another virgin marries in the church, the spire will return to true again; with only 3 weddings in 2010 in the church it seems that this legend understandably discourages marriages at the church. Another legend is that a Bolsover blacksmith mis-shoed the Devil, who leaped over the spire in pain, knocking it out of shape.” There are others, and it is well worth looking some of them up.

sheffield chesterfield hare 005

I didn’t linger too long under my tree. It was raining quite heavily and my feet were already squelching in the little slippers I habitually wear for some strange and unfathomable reason. You would think I would have learned by now… Even the pigeons had given up and had taken shelter where they could, so I too followed their example.

sheffield chesterfield hare 034

For all the church has been embellished over the centuries, being the foremost building in the area, it still retains its atmosphere of calm peace, and every nook and cranny inside hides symbols and artistic treasures, bits of history and the evidence of the faith of hundreds of years…

Continue reading at The Silent Eye

The watchers

sheffield chesterfield hare 590

We were being watched. It was palpable. In fact, as I raised the camera to watch the watchers, others could see it too… we weren’t imagining it. They had been following us all day, dark, hooded figures flitting in and out of vision, all across the Derbyshire landscape. Sitting on fences, following our footsteps, watching our every move at every site we visited. We even had evidence in bag and pocket… and the camera had quietly documented their stealthy observation…

Sitting in the little courtyard of the pub in Castleton, by some miracle on the part of my companion, the staid half of shandy I had reluctantly asked for had been transformed into a nicely chilled Stowford’s … I love Derbyshire!… and we were surrounded.

sheffield chesterfield hare 579

There were jackdaws on the low rooftops, on the chimneys… whole families of them, including the young one that misjudged and went flying in a way that failed to involve wings.

I snapped away happily while the pint of Guinness and half of Stowford’s slowly disappeared, then passed the camera across to my companion so he could see the day’s photographic haul. As always I wait, judging his reaction by the tilt of his head and the set of his lips.

“We’ve got our Dark Sage.” …

Continue reading at The Silent Eye

Menorah…

Hanukkah Menorah Jewish Judaica Israel Vintage Brass Chanukah ...

Menorah as Chalice

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… The Book of Revelation can be described

as a book of arcane symbolism.

*

It seems to me astonishing that such a work should have been

accepted into the recommended canon when so many

other far less controversial texts are regarded as apocryphal –

this word which now has connotations of spuriousness or falsity

is derived from the Greek word for ‘hidden’ –

Apocryphal works, then, can be regarded

as those books which possess hidden wisdom.

*

It will be useful to consider the opening few paragraphs

of Revelation and compare them to Daniel’s vision of Michael

which we looked at in earlier posts

*

“It was on the island of Patmos.

I was meditating on the seventh day

when I heard behind me a voice as of many waters,

“I am the beginning and end, first and the last.”

I turned to see who it was that spoke,

and I saw a figure resembling the Son of Man.

He was standing in the middle of seven golden candlesticks.

His beard and his hair were like white wool.

His eyes were flames of fire.

His countenance was bright, as the sun when it shines at its height.

He was clothed in a long white robe.

About his breast went a golden girdle.

In his right hand, he held seven stars.

His words rang out of his mouth clearly

with the poignancy of a double-edged sword:

“I am he that lives and was dead.

I possess the keys to death and hell.

I shall live forevermore.”

I fell down at his feet and they were like fine-brass forged in a furnace.

He laid his hands upon me, “You must write down all you see in a book,

and send it to the Seven Churches of Asia.

Let all the churches know that I am he who searches

the reins of the heart and gives to everyone, according to their works.

Tell them to remember from whence they have fallen,

to return to their first love lest I come upon them like a thief

and remove their candlestick from its place,

thus speaks the ‘Amen’: ‘I know your works, I know that you have a name,

I know that you live, and yet, you are as the dead!'”…

Continue reading at France & Vincent

Pants on Fire…

*

Big Bee entered his bunker, ripped the overlarge black mask from his chops,

and collapsed into his comfort chair.

“How went it?” asked Teigue-the-Fool.

“Could have been better,” mumbled Big Bee into his chest and then, brightening somewhat, “how did it look from this end?”

“It couldn’t have looked much worse, sire,” said Teigue.

“Really, how so?”

“The Main Stream Media showed pictures and extended video footage of the after photo-shoot party.”

“They did, huh?”

“They did. When quizzed about social distancing and numbers one of your ministers tried to claim there were less than thirty people there. When that blatant untruth was exposed he admitted that government business had always followed different rules than those the general populace had to follow.”

“Something of a Barnard Castle moment, then?”

“Times ten, sire, times ten.”

“That bad, you think?”

“Given that parliament does follow social distancing rules, it’s pretty much an admission that no government business takes place there.”

“Is that how it’s being interpreted?”

“By the political intelligentsia… Yup!”

“Only one thing for it then,” said Big Bee charging from the bunker without his mask.

“You turn if you want to…” muttered Teigue. The bunker was only sporadically filled by his cacophonous laughter.

*

 A Questionable Science:

Love and Death in the Time of COVID 

by Stuart France and G. Michael Vasey

‘The Gallows and Gibbet Inn’, proclaimed the sign, which singular nominal ought really to have aroused, if not my shackles then, at least my suspicions. 

Too late, Anu was already tugging me over the threshold into the warmth, and the light, and the sound of voices, and music…

…They were all in there!

Black Jack Davey… Teigue-the-Fool… The Miller’s Son… The Sorcerer’s Apprentice… H.R.H. the Lord of the Elements, and one-hundred-and-one other far less savoury characters.

Most of them in their cups. Reprobates all! And what a tale they had to tell.

If you have ever wondered why all the public houses are shut.

You had better pull up a chair…

*

Now available in paperback and Kindle formats on Amazon

 

 

 

Bottom-Rock…

*

Big Bee stood contemplating his overlarge leather travel-bag.

“Stay-cation?” asked Teigue-the-Fool.

“If only,” smiled Big Bee, “unfortunately, men in my position can’t afford such luxury.”

“Busy… busy… bees,” sang Teigue, shaking his rattle.

“Indeed,” continued Big Bee, “and my plan to vaccinate the world by the end of the year has almost come to fruition.”

“You sound like a Bond villain,” said Teigue.

“Bond villains don’t save the world, they destroy it,” sighed Big Bee.

“Quite,” said Teigue, and then, “almost?”

“I just need to convince the rest of the K-Nine countries.”

“Ah,” said Teigue, “of course, most other countries of the world outside those of the K-Nine already have the ‘pandemic’ under control, and without the use of a vaccine.”

Big Bee looked blank.

“I-ver-mec-tin!” pronounced Teigue, with a flourish.

“Insufficient clinical trials,” blustered Big Bee.

“No need for clinical trials if it works in the field,” smiled Teigue, “which it clearly does, and without the initial spike in deaths the vaccine rollout initially produced, and it already has a forty-year safety record.”

“Damn I-ver-mec-tin! Damn, damn, damn I-ver-mec-tin!” growled Big Bee, clenching and un-clenching his hands, into and then out of fists, and shaking them alarmingly. “We’ll see.” He zipped up his travel bag with a resounding ‘zing’.

“Portugal?” asked Teigue-the-Fool.

“Portland bloody Bill,” snarled Big Bee.

*

 A Questionable Science:

Love and Death in the Time of COVID 

by Stuart France and G. Michael Vasey

‘The Gallows and Gibbet Inn’, proclaimed the sign, which singular nominal ought really to have aroused, if not my shackles then, at least my suspicions. 

Too late, Anu was already tugging me over the threshold into the warmth, and the light, and the sound of voices, and music…

…They were all in there!

Black Jack Davey… Teigue-the-Fool… The Miller’s Son… The Sorcerer’s Apprentice… H.R.H. the Lord of the Elements, and one-hundred-and-one other far less savoury characters.

Most of them in their cups. Reprobates all! And what a tale they had to tell.

If you have ever wondered why all the public houses are shut.

You had better pull up a chair…

*

Now available in paperback and Kindle formats on Amazon