As we came in to land, the moonlit mists were moving westward. They dispersed to reveal Cairo city.
On the ground, there was a sensation of phasing electricity. One striving, over-and-over, to make a stable connection.
We made a transfer to our hotel in a cab. The spontaneity of every moment was eye-opening. Militarised check-points, three lanes used as five, families jumping out in front of oncoming traffic, and not a single unscathed car.
It was late at night but there was abatement in the city, and no indication that only a short distance down the road was the greatest monument known to man.
The pyramids are talked about in conversations had by all sorts. But what if that which is to be found on Giza doesn’t yield to debate or supposition. What is, like the minds who constructed them, they respond to an application of wisdom.
A wise mind knows that wanting only spawns more wanting. Many have sought revelations at the foot of these awe-inspiring monuments before finding lightness in their heart.
I wonder if Napoleon Bonaparte is one such example. When he invaded Egypt he brought with him 175 scholars and set them to work on decipherment.
Scholars and disciples of great men atune themselves to documents and recitals. But personal destinations, if sought, cannot be arrived at by treading a path of mimicry.
To be you is to be aware of other forces as well as embodying the convictions of one’s own love. A conviction that projects an authenticity to intrigue others, like a parent’s interest intrigues a child.
Three, seemingly inanimate buildings, constructed from unmolested minerals, are a legacy of a people true to themselves. Sadly, at the closing of Kali’s darkest hour, their legacy would be pigeonholed by cowards who know less than a little of the magnificence of mankind’s potential.
Jean Michel Jarre’s ‘Twelve Dreams of the Sun‘
Upon arriving at our hotel, which looked out onto the Giza Plateau, I was overwhelmed by gratitude. Grateful for everything I had ever received. Experiences, gifts and challenges; those that were enjoyable, those that were upsetting, and even those things to which I was indifferent. A glow that discharged from every pore of my etheric body and burned silently in it sincerely, hopefully reaching all who needed to know.
From my quiet hotel room, in the early hours of the morning, it truly felt as if I had arrived.
Darkness shrouded everything outside, and the grounds were sanctuary from the mania of the streets.
Yet there was the trace of a presence surrounding me, buoying me; ministering to and preparing me. Like the throbbing haziness of the sun’s afterglow, carrying rejuvenation and reasons to be excited.
It was 0130 and the outdoor pool was the scene etheric light that darted in faint lines randomly. Then, from the direction of the imperceptible pyramid pulsed blue beams. It felt like a very personal light show whispered, “If you think you can, come in the likeness of the image of God. Lend your ears and eyes – even in the darkness of night.”
That evening I slept deeply but in the morning I couldn’t recall a single dream – extremely unusual.
Each subsequent morning I woke from such a deep sleep that my dreams would take the entirety of the days to reveal themselves, often like show-stopping moments of unprovoked inspiration.
At the turn of the millennium Jean Michel Jarre performed on the plateau outside. The concert was dedicated to the ‘Twelve Dreams of the Sun’ (/Son).
In 2011, Egypt had an uprising noticed by the world, and the world withdrew its hand. Tourism income crashed from $2bn to barely $50m within two year. A deficit partially absorbed by remittances sent home from citizen’s living abroad. But little could absorb disruptions caused by a government in flux to this day.
It made for a exotic experience. One million tourist jobs lost, but there were still those who continued the best way they knew how. “Camel?” “Horse?” “Guided tour?” “Postcard?” I learnt how to say “la shukran” (no thank you), pretty quickly.
The locals are trying to survive on famishing visitor numbers, which can’t have been this low since the time of Carter and Carnarvon. Unfortunately for the camel touts, I was there with guided purpose and not on holiday.
Coinciding with my visit, 590 Egyptians were sentenced to death. A brutal statement made by the (re-)ruling elite. Boy, we need to teach husbandry all over again! As Osiris is depicted doing in the hieroglyphics. We have descended quickly into the pits of savagery.
And what of the pyramids? They are miraculous!
Standing before them in the revered landscape, pyramids laid bare by the dessert, I thought on the Bosnian pyramid of the Sun. It is pre-flood, and Egypt post-flood, built by a surviving priestly class. A people that bridged epochs.
It is important to distinguish the three pyramids on the Giza plateau from the subsequently built, and now mostly decrepit, fifth and sixth dynasties monuments, and also the Luxor Valley of the Kings. The Giza pyramids belong to an pre-Pharaonic culture.
Sirius is an important theme in Egypt. The god Set – possibly related to Seth of the Old Testament, and otherwise associated with disorder before being reconciled upon acting out a commission by Ra – was named after the Dog Star Sirius and is his son is Anubis the Jackal.
The West learnt that Sirius is a binary system in the mid-1800s, and yet the Egyptians called Sirius a ‘dual entity’ four thousand years ago. Sirius B is a dwarf star that moves around Sirius A. It’s image is imperceptible without the use of a telescope. Which begs the question, who told the Egyptians? And implies that the Pharaoh’s might have known things that we still don’t.
Set and Anubis could have been personifications of the Sirius A and B. In modern times, Graham Hancock has presented the fact that of the two-thousand stars visible to the naked eye, Sirius is the only one with a heliacal cycle of 365.25 days. It’s but 12min from precisely matching Earth orbit around the Sun. Uncanny.
Ra commissioned Set on his solar boat. On the Giza plateau we find one of two boats that were buried in a sealed pit beside the Great pyramid. The one on display is protected by a shed-like cocoon. Does this boat symbolise the boat to the afterlife? Is it the actually boat in which the prediluvian pyramid builds survived? According to marine experts, its design is fitting of an seafaring people.
The image below is of interest. See Horus carrying the Ankh in veneration. See the five-pointed stars, representing the destination. And and the golden disc above head. More on what the disc means at a future point – it’s symbolic of a liberating knowledge to properly use or regained the dynamism human sensitivities.
Also, see the emerald colour of the underside! Alluding to the emerald tablets of Thoth (/Hermes/Ezekiel).
The flood dealt with a swathe of fallen angels, but also erased much that would incriminate the surviving ones going forward. Today we do not hear about fallen angels, about their tricks, nor see them called out. They, who lusted after the daughters of Adam, have bred themselves into the human species (Nephilim Genesis Chapter Six). Enoch spoke at length about them, and the Book of Giants (Dead Sea Scrolls) can be referenced also, by those who have forgotten.
There is a tablet (currently residing in Cairo Museum), where Akhenaten (eighteenth dynasty) is depicted as a giant. Akhenaten is accredited with replacing the worship of gods with worship of one, the Sun (/Son).
We know of the pyramid builder’s prowess in the field of astronomy, of their careful placement of the pyramids (Orion alignment etc). So investigating the significance of the Sphinx, which amongst worthwhile scholars is generally accepted to predate the pyramids, is likely to yield an astrological find too (?) Some make the assertion that the original sculpture was of a lion, and then defaced by a subsequent, and egotistically motivated, ruler. If it was a lion originally, it would imply the significance of Leo. And the age of Leo, according to the procession of the equinoxes (observable phenomena of rotation of the heavens which spans approx. 25,920 yrs) extended approximately between 11-9,000 BC. This would put its origination right at the time of ancient accounts of the Great Flood, and the point at which mankind had to reestablish itself after surviving in reduced numbers after a cataclysmic event. Those who survived, including a priestly class, exerted their knowhow here, on this plateau, which at the time would have been lush and vibrant, with the blessing of warmth and water. The (specifically) hydro erosion, has been stated by more than one long term geology study to point to the Sphinx being around when Giza last had regular rainfall, again about ten-thousand years ago. So an equinoctial marker, freezing a date during the procession of the stars: 13,000 years up and 13,000 down; much like the Taurus (Bull) was used symbolically by the Minoans at 2-4,000 BC.
However, the Sphinx sits low in a mini valley and if not attended to sinks into a natural levelling of sand which buries both its body and evidence of its hydro-weathering. What would protrude above the surface as it lay in its untended state (as it was for centuries) would be its head – see first image of Sphinx with pyramid backdrop above to get a sense of what it would have looked like. It is therefore, directly comparable with the giant figures of the Easter Islands (see below – recent excavation).
And being there beside the Sphinx, to gauge this context and its brokenness (/vandalism of its face), I thought that rather than the stone sculpture being a marker of time, that it was formed to represent an elegant dog. And so if the dog star is so prevalent elsewhere, perhaps it was originally a jackal?
Thankfully, someone else also had that thought so I could include an illustration of what I mean (below). Sadly, the local ‘authorities’ are ‘restoring’ this monument – its paws, legs and ass are being paved in a design reminiscent of tiles found in a public toilet.
The Sphinx is connected to the other structures via subterranean passages; and I had a thought for the Forbidden City in China where under the paw of a guarding lion is a sphere embossed with the flower of life imprint, implying that it was the gatehouse guardian to a place which possesses ‘secrets of life.’
So to the Great Pyramid. A thirteen acre footprint, six million tons of stone and placed (as if constructed from top to bottom) two chambers, and two passage ways – one leading to a third subterranean chamber.
(see above) The Kings Chamber has staggered, almost loft-like, cavities that bear a striking resemblance to the Egyptian symbol of stability and endurance called the Djed Pillars.
Earth’s radius divided by precisely 43,200 times gives us the height of the Great Pyramid. The equator circumfrance by the same 43.2k gives us the base length. That is to say the great pyramid was built in the precise proportions of our planet Earth. Dr Badawy and Virgina Trimble first brought to public attention that the South shaft of the ‘King’s Chamber’ targeted on the belt of Orion at 2,500BC. And subsequently Robert Bauval demonstrated that the South shaft of the ‘Queen’s Chamber’ focused like a sniper upon Sirius in the same era.
Time to check it out!
One enters through an ancillary entrance, which I assume was forcefully blasted. Penetrating the outer wall one walks horizontally along a curved limestone passage until reaching a tiny corridor that’s regimental in it’s linear uniformity, literally scrambling in ascent and grateful for the grooves in the wooden planks placed there for visitors. The scramble provokes a bit of breathlessness (from the likes of my unfitness), before emerging in the Grand Gallery.
The Grand Gallery is grand alright! All of the accounts of blocks weighing tens of tons and being placed in unparalleled precision are accurate. The ancient priestly class called this opening the Temple of (the Goddess) Ma’at, which is still entirely appropriate for it is like a megalithic birthing canal. The gallery was also once known as the Hall of Truth in Light; the Hall of Judgment and Resurrection. God’s judgment (of course) is an eternal dynamic of recycling ascendency, not of anything as mundane as the subjective judgments of personality that we commonly (mis)perceive – Ma’at is a representation of that, never seeming to loose its effectiveness (through my eyes at least).
Where the space opens up to ‘Air,’ this would have been the second phase of a priest’s (/priestess – quite a while before the time of Herodotus female initiates still existed, if outnumbered, in equal stature) initiation . After an initiate had been to the ‘Queens’ chamber where they cleansed, healed and found inner balance (an uninterrupted multi-day process) – which followed a period in the subterrrained well where (following a time in accelerated perception) the initiate was received from solitude by camaraderies – an initiate would ascend the Grand Gallery. Not all at once but incrementally over the period of seven days, and discover the right use of their intellect, finally arriving at the anti-chamber.
The anti-chamber has a triple veil where three megalithic slabs once blocked the entrance to the ‘Kings’ Chamber, and which are now raised like stone portcullises.
The chamber of the open tomb would have had ritualistic performers in the past playing harp, lute, lyre, sistrums, drums, castanets, harpsichord, cymbals…the gong. Although the Egyptian attendants were nervous (especially on the first day) because of a recent case of underhand vandalism by guests, they allowed Vincent, with whom I was with, to play a Navajo flute. The video finishes with a glimpse of the seventy ton blocks overhead.
There is a recording from 1972 by some (claiming to be) Rosicrucians, it is low quality but you might possibly be able to tune in even at an entry level: see here (6:55 onwards).
Only artificial lights provide any luminescence throughout the pyramid and in this chamber of the open tomb. I have commented on the South-facing shaft which protrudes like the barrel of gun up to the heavens. When I went to take a look at it, I found an air conditioning unit wedged into it, which during installation butchered part of the stone work too – I would say more criminal than the recent tourist vandalism. I crouched beneath the shaft and it was too easy to imagine its vast array of potential original uses. Did they once channel intergalactic energy into an amplifying body (ie the pyramid – there is plenty written on pyramidal shapes and their properties of amplification). Or were these intergalactic portals, receiving dematerialised emissaries who would rematerialise in the open tomb (which once sat in the centre of the chamber but has since been moved toward the far wall); or was this just an air shaft coincidentally pointed toward the one star the Egyptian’s revere more than any other. Incidentally, the same star that the Christians and the Wise Men (read: Magi/ Magicians/ Kings) did.
In the Mena House Hotel shop this (above) book instantaneously caught my attention for three reasons: for one, I have been reading about Ethiopia recently; secondly it is a book about Christian churches in an Islamic nation for sale in an Islamic state; finally, because Graham Hancock’s brilliant book, The Sign and The Seal, makes a very compelling case for the Ark of the Covenant having found sanctuary there (in Ethiopia), where it supposedly still is to this day.
What makes this series of coincidences and cross-referenced storied all the more interesting is that Egyptian legends tell a tale of Osiris first travelling to (of all places) Ethiopia, and then to Egypt (with whom it doesn’t share a boarder. But the Nile does run through Sudan joining them in that sense).
So is this, the ‘King’s’ Chamber, from where the Ark of the Covenant travelled? It would be interesting if it had acted as a capacitor, fitting inside the open quartz/granite tomb. It would also give reason for the specific size of the (non-human friendly) tunnels through which we ascended – were the shafts just big enough for the ark? Whatever the case, it does pose some particularly important and broadly crucial questions relevant to our contemporary civilisation and condition. These were the roots of a culture that travelled to Rome, London, to Washington DC, during its course the cultural dynamic has reversed ie rather than creating culture, we are now consuming it!
Maybe the Ark of the Covenant (device), once sat in the hollowed out rose quartz granite? (and/or) Maybe this was also used as the place of initiation for Egyptian priests? If it was (I was to find out that) there is further direct comparisons that can be made to Christianity, and specifically to Jesus Christ – who came to teach us how to live, how to live again, and how to ascend.
The Egyptian initiation process would be predated by forty days (and nights – just as Christian biblical account) of fasting. Then two stages (rushed in my earlier description) took place, before the ascent to the primary chamber where women tended to the initiate before the tomb was sealed for three days. It was a period where the aspiring initiate would be presented with challenges of a metaphysical nature, and not all would find themselves worthy. Eventually the megalithic veil was removed and the chamber opened again for the (assuming all gone well) priest to descend the Gallery of Resurrection. His (/her) body an alloy of the reawakening of God’s image within; prepared and tempered having mastered judgment, forgiveness, compassion and the illusions of fear and separateness.
The significance of this only hit me when on visiting the Second Pyramid, Vincent stopped at the entrance at the bottom of the main entry shaft and shared a thought of it being like a boulder pushed to one-side by a man akin to Jesus.
We know that Moses was raised an Egyptian prince; but where did Jesus travel to during his undocumented years, who helped him remember? Given the nature of his style of language and his outlook (which is in such concentrating contrast to that which dominated before ie Old Testament), developing his innate destiny alongside Yogi’s in the Himalayas would be one guess. There he would have had an uninterrupted opportunity to cultivate his wisdom and unify his heart and light body (a rare and truly highest self-realisation, attained by Babaji too but precious few others). There are some who say that Jesus of Nazareth travelled to England with Joseph of Arimathea (who, incidentally, according to scripture donated his tomb for the burial of Jesus). Did Christ spend time in Egypt and learn what Moses had come to know? Or did he visit and stay in all three of these places, and elsewhere too?
These are questions I raise now in bringing together what were separate strands, into one as I write this article.
After I got up from crouching by the South Shaft that once pointed to Sirius, I waited in that corner and took in the space, it was so easy to feel the potential of being at one with all that was inside, with all aspects of our history (and hence future too), it was only a few breaths away. But the agitated guards meant that letting go and being at ease was unlikely to happen. “No meditation,” they would snap. “This is a holy place!” They would follow. Before you ask if I laughed at the irony of such a statement, I didn’t. I tried to let it be, grateful just to be there having already had a crystal skull confiscated because it produced a blacked-out image on the plateau’s security x-ray machine. Instead, I remembered all those people who mean a lot to me, that is to say have contributed to my being there, and in remembering them I hoped that they would be touched by the moment.
Still standing loosely in the corner, facing diagonally across the chamber and cushioned by the space’s chambré temperament, I dared to ask a single question. Seamlessly an answer came from behind me, as if spoken by the walls. And I smiled to myself, because only the confusion of distortion brought onto myself blinded me from the answer I had always known. Like all good answers discerned prayerfully, its economical words had implications that stretched further than the parameters of the thought, which had catalysed it.
An Egyptian initiate might say this was an expression of perfect thought delivered by Ba – the soul, depicted as a bird with a human head. Then my attention turned to the hollow tomb again, up until then I had respectfully given it a wide birth. It maybe worth making a comparison of it with the black cornerstone in the Ka’aba in Mecca? That stone is kissed by every pilgrim and was declared by the prophet Muhammad to have fallen to Earth and first given to Adam to absorb his sins after having been banished from Eden; the subsequently presented by Gabriel to Abraham (Gabriel the messenger – and a good angel – who guided Daniel, announced to Mary and is documented in the aforementioned book of Enoch).
[Man is flawed, I sure am, and perhaps so because we were given the ultimate gift, a capacity for an innovation which presents choice; the distortion would exploit this choice but why would one turn away from harmony when that is where we came from and that is where we are going – that is to say, why turn away from oneself? Perhaps we are given these physical opportunities to introduce into our spiritual experience why not, and have the freewill to choose to rise above limitations of the branded self-perception that the distortion taunts us with constantly]
It is worth considering historical context (that which remains in an sparse documentation, which cannot possibly tell the whole story) because if the tablets of the Ten Commandments that came down from heaven (and were then placed in an [god’s designed] Ark) were in fact not two inscribed formalised tablets but two stones (as is the case presented in Islam), if they were and came from heaven were they a pair of meteorites? [A conjecture flowing as I write this article] Is the revered black stone in Mecca a polished meteorite?
According to Egyptian lore, confronting the pair – the tempter and the redeemer – and mastering their conflicting natures make all manifestations possible. Upon harmonising between both there is a change of consciousness that represents and leads thee to wisdom. So they say, and it sits comfortably with me.
“…Property was this appalled, that the self was not the same; single nature’s double name neither two nor one was called. Reasons, in itself confounded, saw division grow together, to themselves yet either neither, simple were so well compounded. That it cried, How true a twain seemeth this concordant one! Love hath reason, reason none, if what parts can so remain…” an extract from Edward de Vere’s poem The Phoenix and the Turtle (Dove)
On the first visit I stepped into the open tomb, deliberately entering from one side and jumping out on the other. As I did, I knocked by left knee on its lip and it rang like a bell, resonating throughout the chamber. Just a minute before I stood in the dead centre point of the chamber, where giants slabs meet in four corners (reminds me of Native American v.), where the open tomb once rested. Standing on the four corners a guard prayed for me with a mantra he said under his breath, it could have been an incantation for all I knew, so while it seemed to be selfless and he paid be a compliment, I held my own presence and only let his presence and intention touch my outer aura. Then, based upon a recommendation by Vince I emitted a gentle OM. The immediate resonance was staggering – this chamber was built to amplify tune, and my knee-knocking bell tone verified that it had its own tune too.
On the second day, Vincent and I were able to enjoy the space alone – it was overwhelming. We each lay in the open tomb for a while, and resting there it felt as if the outer world (the rest of the chamber included) was pulling away, receding and opening a light (in weight) void. It was a perculiar sense of travel, and the only experience I have felt of comparable perculiarity was an accidental astral-travel invoked by a giant labradorite sphere. I closed my eyes, and even before I had the thought to make a tight-lipped hum, barely enough to call it an OM, the open tomb’s sides sent me back the noise for it to hit and rebound from my inner body (as if it caused the sound resonance, that I was a a tool of experiential amplification – read Ankhing). The OM did not need to be continuous for it to build in layers, and I hardly dared keep it continuous, the amplification was unbelievable (true to the definition). This pyramid was built to serve multiple purposes, one (whether intentionally or not) was for a human body to be able to have an encounter with the fabric of space and time. In those short moments I made a significant personal journey, where many contacts made my acquaintance. Maybe this was (the briefest) an encounter of with a higher octave of life’s expression? A veil through which some might choose to reach and grasp a version of eternity.
I got up and then stood outside the open tomb, and asked for a photograph and instinctively put my hands overhead in a combined Ka and Ankh. The Ka was known in ancient Egypt as the creative life-force of the individual that came into being at the moment of birth. Egyptians believed (/knew) it continued to live after death (hence required offereings, which brought to site of burial). Later on in Cairo Museum I recalled a song, which as a child I always felt was missassociated with Christianity (dedicated to a ‘blind’ man who called out to God?) , namely Kumbaya, which when translated (loosely) into ancient Egyptian gives Ku’Ba’Ah = The Physical, Soul’s Breath, Will.
(in reverse) Nut – the Goddess of the Sky arching over Earth
Back in the ‘King’s’ Chamber…I thought to myself why is our memory not perfect, ought not we all have photographic memories; why would God cause us to live forgetfully? To build and therefore trust layers of instinct maybe? If that is the case, we must separate R-complex reflex impulses, conditioned impulses and discerned intuition (three which most treat under the same umbrella and in that order of preference). But if memory is a gift (which I think it is), what can we do to unlock and restore this potential? [Sitting in front my computer now the first thing to recommend would be the avoidance of flashy media that serves to fragment our attention, the long term repercussions of its mind altering nature and effects on memory might be irreversible]
It was an added privilege to visit the Great Pyramid over the days of the equinox, the tonal layer which accompanied personal experience had a noticeably different temperament on each day. On the third morning, we were joined by six other men and a young lady. There was the same steward we had become familiar with and (unlike previous days) a member of the police. If the first two experiences could be named introduction and initiation, then the third was a ceremony without ritual.
Vincent and I did not take any liberties with the tomb, nor with sound. But in hindsight our movement was a spontaneously choreographed dance incorporating the nine others. At one point we stood back-to-back in the epicentre and made a joint prayer, turning as if in activation, what happened next is worth documenting. The steward and the policeman began squabbling, and what started as noticeable anxiousness rapidly escalated to a row. The walls of the chamber flexed in jolted barrages of shouting. Neither Vincent, nor I turned to look at them but had each retreated opposite each other, backs against the lengthier walls. I for one was highly conscious that this was as much energy stemming from human animation as we had experienced on any of the three days (each time honourable), and I was intent to use it. To harness the energy to magnify and propel the intent of our shared prayer. So, intuitively, we sent a rebounding energy across the chamber until it had enough potency to loop as a prism beam of light and colour. The both of us like two rotars, the centre of the drive-shaft the four corners on the floor, over which the hollowed quartz granite was once positioned – both concentrated.
Just like crying can cleanse by helping identify the root of injury, heal it and restore a person (so long as it is not crying for crying’s sake and diffused aimlessly from the top of one’s head), the energy of rage can also be looped to reveal higher intentions. Maybe in those minutes – when other visitors took refuge on the other side of the tomb as confusion made its case to fill the place – the locals’ energy looped above and beneath the pyramid like an infinity sign flipped on its side.
Beams of light (some would say inexplicable) caught on camera on those days were similar to those seem at the Stonehenge Winter Solstice ’13. Who really knows how long the public will be able to access these places natural high energy vortices, before they are blocked-off by ‘authorities?’
I left feeling so grounding, like I had not for a very long time. And focused too, not on one thing in exertion, but it was a focus that made all surrounding me be enhanced and reachable by thought. Even those things low in priority found their place closer to my field of attention vision, to be tackled better than they otherwise would have been. I remembered the Buddhist monks who I had met the week before, who allowed me to join with them in morning prayer and who gracefully performed a cleansing ceremony on me before I took them to Stonehenge. The release they invoked allowed be to better experience Egypt, I am sure of it. Thank you Tengan and Tanko, and thank you Antoinette for introducing me to them.
Humble men, grateful just for a chance to view (from a distance) and access the Stonehenge mandala energy grid. Is this now the best way to appreciate Stonehenge? If it is, it makes the ‘limited’ access to the Great Pyramid seem extraordinarily liberal.
The aforementioned police officer had quite a different temperament outside the ‘King’s’ Chamber, and allowed us to view the shaft which runs from the now unused original entrance (above), down to the subterranean chamber (below) – which, like the Queen’s chamber, was out of bounds.
The aquifer below and its interaction with the pyramid structure seemed to be an influence on Tesla’s ground(re)breaking technology. I wonder what kind of hydraulic pulse it was once capable of generating?
I touched upon Tesla in my Bosnia piece; and also Nazis who visited the ancient Visoko Valley. During the same period they were heading there for retreats, Churchill et al stayed in the Mena House Hotel (in the shadow of the Great Pyramid). Coincidence? Maybe…
Churchill did once say that “The first quality that is needed is audacity.” There has been enough of that to be sure. Outright naked wars of aggression, enough to ration throughout the galaxy. It is said that the Ark of The Covenant struck ‘enemies’ down, and that its guardians today (in spite of its various metal insulation) die within a few years of accepting the role with symptoms comparable to radiation poisoning. So was the Ark so desperately sought – in a wanting which induces blindness to divinity – for its weaponry capacity as well as ‘connection to God?’ Either way, the ‘Allies’ were audacious (true to Churchill’s words) and dropped their own nuclear bomb.
But why Visoko and Giza? If you have read my Bosnia article you might remember the image below. Upon scrutinising it again, we find that the third point forming the equilateral relationship is in…Ukraine…Hmm. Lugansk is not far at all from Crimea, the scene of so much global attention recently. So is the instability currently experienced by the government-less Egypt (rather than exclusive) affected by a much wider distorting influence? For whatever reason, the timing of this trip seemed to be just right.
If Egypt’s Great Pyramid defines the forth dimension of Space and Time as spoken about by Einstein, then Bosnia’s pyramid of the Sun (in my opinion) defines the Imagination of Creation, which weaves energy through life so that we all might serve more than one role.
The ancient Egyptian’s left plenty of hieroglyphics depicting the use of tools to aid the journey of soul. Today we have tools to purify. Not least the power of prayer, meditation and listening to our higher selves, angels (who we must not forget) and God. Also those things gifted by the natural world, the Eden we seem so determined to shun and punish in our race toward ultimate disempowerment, transhumanism.
The Egyptians cultivated uncorrupted natural blocks of limestone, quartz red granite and water and their achievement has not been surpassed, or if it has not by a cleverness with mutually applied wisdom. The post pyramid-building dynasties of Egypt revered Earth’s stones, gem stones and crystals, and seemed to be in awareness of their capacity as tools for enhanced metaphysical interaction serving to accelerate returning to higher paths and serving higher purposes – that is to say to be in harmony with the natural cycle in fuller self-awareness (ie God’s way). Naturally Lapis Lazuli is perhaps the stone most associated with the pharaohs. But when Tut’ankh’amun was discovered, those who would like to know were bemused by the unidentified glassy stone from which a scarab beetle shape was carved and placed as the centre-piece of his breast plate.
Today we know it to be a tektite a molten glass created after a meteoric impact, and for those reasons they are found and collected in surface layers. This yellowish stone is known as Libyan Gold and is found across the boarder from Libya in Western Egypt too.
Tektites have long been revered by sages from China, India and Aborigines for their properties upon interacting with the human energy field and consciousness. The ancient Egyptians too seemed to treated it as a sacred gemstone. Many accounts cite tektites (which vary in individual characteristics) for heightened personal transformation toward one’s highest good, an expansion of sensitivities and releasing past karma (Christians call Sin – which blocks personal spiritual progress and ability to look to the future with excitement).
The fractal nature of our wonderful world, where sand dunes imitate skin; or do skin and dunes simply adhere to the sweeping brush strokes of the same harmonic?
If one studies the nature of things, one might have the possibility to become one with the situation in advance of interacting with it, so as not to interfere but be in mutual cooperation. To know something, we must examine, and in examining we become entangled with it, which that is why it is worth striving to be respectful in sensitivity always. So, as fantastic as it may seem, we can use nature by harnessing it according to its preferred terms. And here we arrive at the ankh – a subject deserving of significant attention but not to be elaborated upon further than to raise it in conjunction with this point.
We are surrounded by clues and reasons to be confident if we only have the unhindered eye to see and willingness to not be afraid of admitting that our universe is not dull after all. To embrace the language of both metaphysics, and that of expressive science. Together neither can be parted; for romanticism is a natural partner of classicism. Substance, when examined closely, will always have structure. Both can be commented on, and yet the subject remains one. And so we return to the ancient Egyptian lore of confronting the pair (tempter and redeemer) – therein lies the mesmerising possibility of nature’s manifestation.
A view through Moldavite (Czech tektite)….[Oh truth, sometimes it is merciless and I do not mind if its human delivery lacks grace in order to rattle the specific crowd who embraces with glee that nineteenth century mythology, which suggests the world is but a mechanism – that we fart, fxxk and get f’ed-up, and that when you’re dead you’re dead. I’m ever so sorry, but your embarrassment is hidden behind false logic. Your desperately invented mythology is killing you]…is not an item for religious debate (although precious stones are mentioned 1,700+ times in the Bible); the institutions that represent religions are seldom comfortable with any conversations based upon experience. So those willing to be responsible have to carve out the new standard. Or phrased more appropriately, the standard of our natural state – which is what we are asked to deal with, this is a meaning of life.
So be not terrified of that which is not the banality so treasured by the person(s) who clings to a caged heart – for if you are, that is a very sorry case. Rather than crouch in artificial community, leap to the wings of truth that will deliver you where you need to be culturally. This is what the moldavite says. It will burn until you do; it’ll force your heart to speak-up, and for you to listen, to pay attention to its field carried by rhythmic pulse. The farther you are from this, the more essential it will be (/is). Hence, this (a piece of nature, sent from space) is a counter-device, to counter those methods of academic (undefined) guilt that wants us to subscribe to the thought that we are not important, the method of sinister people; Lucifer’s infinitely diabolical (unspecified) deed plastered upon humanity who, by that stage of confronting isolation and strangeness, might as well at least get stuck in on those things that are defined in their badness. (What a trip…)
This is my account of what I have seen looking out toward the Giza Plateau from my hotel room, through Moldavite. Even if it is only an approximation because words and still images serve as an incomplete bridge. For completion we need others. After all, we are all here to help one another remember – remember?
Like other tektites, many struggle after wearing Moldavite for even a short while. It (I can vouch) works through them, and the cleanse can be a seriously uncomfortable one. It speaks to truths (no matter what fixed-minded effort is made to tarnish it afterwards) and will resonate to prime-top forever after that point. That point being the almighty “Aha!”
The ancient Egyptians (seemed to) make every effort to return to their essence, and cleanse themselves of toxicity. Their mummification process included extracting and putting stomach, liver, lung and intestines into Canopic jars. ‘Scholars’ claim they did so in a vain or symbolic effort to preserve them for the afterlife. However, any reasonable person familiar with the ancient Egyptian mentality and who takes the time to discern will arrive at the knowing that these organs were removed because they represented the function where physical impurities of life would gather and accumulate.
On the way to Cairo Museum, we passed over what is now a small patch of the nile delta. About 12,500 years ago it would have been vastly bigger and it is commonly agreed by agricultural specialists that it was one of the ‘first’ agricultural hubs; the environment would have been very well tempered and fertile. It was one of the few remnants of another age.
At the museum, which was teeming with secondary school students on an applied art day trip, I managed to visit the sarcophagus of Tut-Ankh-Amun, and the golden interpretation of his face – the one fashioned so that he might remember himself in the transition between lives. It was, mesmirising. His likeness has been raised again to witness the closing scenes of the age of the Kali Yuga – the age of conflict and quarrel, strife and discord (forces that could not have been present in building of the Giza complex); those who live raised above this influence of distortion are better than me.
As I stared at the sculpted face, I thought of one other thing Egyptian tradition declared (accurately), and preserved in its timeless testament to this one body: the soul contains the body, the body does not contain the soul. Naturally, for we are the relationship we have with the world, personally, socially, in proximity to events, geography, rays, and how attuned the edges of our presence is with those places beyond the veil of the merkabah light body. This is just like the astrological diagram of your moment of birth, which displays your ‘soul’ in relation to the observable universe, tapping you on the shoulder to says “You Are the observable Universe” (and more, because the band is beyond our decipherable limits). Do you feel it? …Thank goodness…because if you did not you would be as (or just similarly) estranged as those who carry the burden of reflex hostility, which stems from a frightfulness dwelling on the falsehood that we are isolated beings.
In the museum Vincent and I ventured in appreciation, and stumbled upon an anteroom. We each walked in opposite directions and when we met by the door again Vincent said (words to the effect) “Tell me that when you go where I’ve just been that you don’t get pulled to something with a great and indefinable attraction.” So I went where he had been, and he was right, it was like a tractor beam. Even now I cannot quite define what it was but all I could think of was travelling through outer space on purpose. What I had focussed in on was a solid silver sarcophagus (above), in the image of Ra. When Vincent joined me I said, “God it’s strong.” To which he turned to face the next cabinet and said, “I meant that one.”
Apparently his modavite pendant felt as if it was being magnetised toward the other layer of Shoshenq II’s sarcophagus (sorry but the image immediately above is in black and white, so does not do it justice). This one, carved to the same design had detailed embellishments that were distinct from the hundreds of other wooden sarcophaguses in the museum.
We agreed that their auric magnetism was tangible and joked that it was a wonder that they were not in a crate at some government hangar.
What a resounding energy. As much as I am keen to make the repeated point of separating the Pyramid (the three revered ones) builders from the subsequent Egyptian dynasties, there was something which these two pieces had in common with it…they both still felt somehow alive. Or was it a chorus of hallowed and cursed hymns still chanting for the attention of eternity?
The museum was pretty good, an extensive collection of second tier (with exceptions) Egyptian dynastical artefacts that you will similarly see in the British Museum, the Rosicrucian Museum, LACMA etc But the main hall (which I learnt afterward has been the place of many occult ritual ceremony) was overflowing with presence. Capstones and the two giant statues reassured the integrity of all other exhibits.
Returning outside, dozens of fully manned tanks lined the street, all servicemen polite in their acknowledgements but once again, there was no escaping the mentality which would bulldoze itself into a fearful future. That feeling stepping off the plane, of phasing energy was there again in waves without proportions.
“Yes it’s no use saying that you don’t know nothing
It’s still gonna get you if you don’t do something
Sitting on a fence that’s a dangerous course
Ah, you could even catch a bullet from the peace-keeping force
Even the hero gets a bullet in the chest
Oh yeah, once upon a time in the west“
The Monday after the equinox a hologram pyramid floated, and hieroglyphic symbols marked the edges of the eye-lid table where political actors spoke about ‘policy’ at a ‘United Nations Security Council.’ Powerful symbolism appropriated by those would seize our individual sovereignty and feast on it.
The Pharaohs who succumbed to the distortion moved to Rome, then to London, then to Washington DC…ever to the west…ever in the direction of Ba. Ever more dense in its relative resonance with each wave of cosmic heightening, to the point of obsolescence in not having remained true to their original responsibility It is a situation comparable to man pre-great flood. What was known then, known now and is still not revealed? Well the pyramid builders circumnavigated the world before recorded time. And they certainly had at least a fondness toward Orion.
Before I left Giza, Vincent said to me, “Your connection with this place will never be lost.” And in that moment I could not appreciate the fullness of what he meant. The resonant energy gathered in the composure of my journey back to England, where rhythm was set by patience, where few words were said and seemed to only further strengthen the ringing connection I had with the Great Pyramid (in particular); and a feeling was hanging in the background suggesting she too knew.
I do mind it, even if I say I don’t. All the waste around; the sloths sitting on and not using their hearts, spilling their attention and honouring their captors, descending to the cutting mentality of Norman Bates but without the strength in character to step into a leading role (which would at least give them a notable characteristic). Those for whom we need to find a humbleness in order to reach out to. But while there is no emotional empathy, least of all for themselves while damaging experience of their private traps blocks out meaning, they will never ask for a hand; never resolving, never taking any courageous decisions (not every decision can be virtuous, but most of the important ones might as well be). And so Man’s hidden history is waiting patiently, there are no missing links only forbidden content swapped for a different kind of perverted content sprouted by pandora’s box rooted in the tree of knowledge, that which feeds on us, not that which waits hoping that one day we might choose life.
Each is entitled to their own opinion (obviously) but to treat ancient Egypt with a reductionist mentality is foolish. There was wisdom to be found in men who lived there once, long ago. Even their deities (a substrata/ the many faces of/ those close in their relationship to the one God) were embodiments of that which we could aspire to. Our bodies, each one, literally are light body temples. Man may have built temples to venerate, but building temples is a luxury best left for those who have arrived at peace and love – for those who have (Isis according to Egyptians) are unlikely to waste energy building such construction unless its to help their descendent remember.
Hmm, some say we are embarking on seven years of tribulation. There is a missing plane supposedly lost to the resource and technologies of all the world [I don’t buy it, and would draw the reader’s attention to the double trident symbology on the jet’s tail and the double trident carried by Ninurta], nations are realigning allegiances, currency wars are converging in relative devaluation, there is more and more but perhaps the most eye-catching is to be seen in the heavens and would not have been missed by the ancient Egyptians.
We are on the verge of a series of the Blood Moons, which are (not coincidentally) falling on Jewish holidays. This occurrence has happened before, three times in the past five-hundred years to be exact. So what happened in those years? Columbus ‘discovered’ Americas, then Spain and Portugal divided it between themselves. On the second occasion Israel became a nation following the Israel war armistice. On the third, Jerusalem was captured and become part of Israeli the state.
These are the dates to keep an eye on (retrospectively might give point of clearer perspective): 15th April (Passover); 8th October (Feast of Tabernacles – Moses’ feast); perfect Solar Eclipse on 20th Mar ’15 (Jewish New Year); 4th Apr (Passover), 13th Sept (partial solar eclipse & NY); 28th Sept (Tabernacles).
The Jews and Egypt go a long way back, sharing common mystical knowledge (the various stands of Judaism need to be treated in careful analysis). The Jewish faith tends to be aware of moments of mass importance. Is this (partly) why Israel has recently shut all of its embassies?
And the Tribulation..: ‘Stars will be blown out of orbit…All the nations shall mourn…That at those times, they will be just as they were at the time of Noah’ (the time set in stone by the Pyramid’s of Giza). Not only is this documented in Christian text but Indian Scriptures too (Kali Yuga). And we know that we are in transition between cosmic ages specified by the Mayans. But do not let yourself weep, let there not be reason for gnashing of teeth for the seventh golden age is there for the embracing.
The Egyptians called the first time Zep Tepi. At that time when the gods ruled, and chaotic waters receded (ie great flood) giving way for a golden age during which humanity emerged into the light. The ‘Urshu’ were their intermediaries, other cultures (Hopis of North America for instance) would call them the watchers (depicted as giants by Darren Aronofsky in his film Noah). Both the gods and watchers, although surpassing the normal abilities of man, adapted similar preoccupations and passions, and would succumb to sickness and death as much as man. At least this is the account of the ancient Egyptians, who (quite frankly) knew their own history better than we can know today, hence what was left for posterity is thoroughly worth heeding.
We have all been deceived to pursue daily drama, or escape through a screen, rather an experience and observe that which is around. That which is above. I find it interesting that besides Jean Michel Jarre (’99-’00) few performers have had concerts beside the pyramids, while mainstream pop music appropriates Egyptian symbology for their own gain and thereby distorting it. However, one who has performed on the plateau is (a West Country local) Sting who sang that love is the seventh wave.
On my return flight, upon descent into London, the captain made an announcement unprecedented in my experience. It went as follows: “Due to British regulation, we’re about to (release) toxic spray” ?! What followed was some kind of canister fly-spray for humans. Was this ‘regulation’ in the name of killing any contaminated Egyptian air? I do not know, but I was forced to take shallow breaths while my nosterils burned.
Lest we be insects, trodden on but rather thence seek enlightenment in all that has been left by our forefathers who cared, not those who would have us live beneath them. Harmony is the language of the Giza plateau, and by use of the innate language of nature all possibility is offered to those pure of heart. Being there will pluck a bass string in each visitor’s heart, its reverberation lasting the remainder of their embodied life and touch the nodes of entanglement shone by every star, most especially the select stars one has the greatest affinity with. There is nothing more important than a love which sprouts a beautifully abundant family, and running gracefully grounded in life with a heart on fire as Spring scatters its stars.