Arriving at the Monastery

Last night I arrived in Barcelona taking RyanAir from Torino, Italy. When I claimed my luggage, I followed Father Toni Pou's directions. With the help of Antoine, a Syrian pharmacist, who had just completed his MBA at University in Barcelona, I took the Aerobus to Plaza Espana. Antoine was so kind in assisting me with ticket purchase and getting luggage on and off the bus. When I was on my own in this big city plaza, I had to figure out which was the Train Station. I asked for some guidance from my internal council and saw an elevator right in the middle of the busy square that indicated I should get in and go down. I followed the signs to Montserrat and found the ticket kiosk. Although it was in English, I was confused about my choices and the kind of ticket that I needed to purchase that would get me all the way to the monastery. Antoine had told me that the reason the busses were so crowded was due to a Taxi Strike. I didn't want to take a chance of missing this train that would take about an hour to get to Monistrol de Montserrat. Fr. Toni had emailed that if I missed the last "rackrail" connection that was at 6:40 pm up the mountain, I would have to call a taxi....,which I now knew weren't running today. I really didn't want to be stranded on the side of the mountain. 

When I got on the train my suitcase rolled as the train started up and my heavy backpack caused me to lose balance falling on to the woman seated next to me. After apologizing I asked for her help to know when to get off the train. She showed me a lit map of the stops and which one I was to watch for. Thanking her, I seated myself closer to the map so that I could follow along. 

When I got off at Monistrol, I noticed an older gentleman welcoming a woman who also got off the train. I saw signs for the Cremallera, the rackrail train that climbs the mountain. I asked them and although we had a seemingly insurmountable language barrier they pointed to the lift that I should take down with my luggage, cross under the tracks and go to the other side. When I got out of the lift and began walking under the tracks, I saw the woman waiting for me. She had crossed the tracks and come down the long staircase on the other side to be sure that I got into the lift that would take me to the other side of the tracks. Then she climbed back up the long staircase. 

When I got out of the lift, there she was again, waiting for me. She wasn't comfortable leaving me without checking with an agent, however, no one was around so she indicated where I should wait and left me there. 

On the bench near the tracks were two young men who had come from shopping in the town. Nikolai spoke pretty good English and together with Merkolai, explained some things about the train, the mountain, shopping, the water etc...

Good thing they were there. I would have done some serious worrying if they hadn't been there. We waited together for about 40 minutes when at 6:40, just as Father Toni had emailed, the final train came right at the last minute to take us up the mountain. 

When we got off the train. It felt like old friends parting. I told them to look me up if they came into the area during the week and they agreed. They were camping in the mountains and mountain climbing further up the mountain. 

I started up the hill with absolutely no idea where to go. The streets were pretty empty. I saw a lone woman walking, she turned even before I called out to her. When I asked my question she immediately pointed out a man in a black suit with a maroon shirt. She explained that men dressed in these colors were there to help.

He explained that this was the time for Vespers until 7:45. So no one would be at the monastery to welcome me. I found the PORTERIA and left my luggage inside the door. Then I climbed three sets of stairs to find a sign, that I think said they were at Vespers. 

I went over to the Basilica to catch the last couple of notes of the children's choir. Then I went back to the porteria and climbed the stairs again. The sign was gone and the door locked. I was beginning to get a sick feeling that as it got later I might be spending my first night sleeping on the staircase. 

I went up the long staircase one more time, this time I saw the doorbell and I was buzzed in. 

It took a long time for the Porter to locate Father Toni. Who had set up my reservation. I was really glad that I made copies of all of our correspondence. 

Somehow there was a mix up and the guest master who speaks NO English wasn't expecting me. Then they misinterpreted my paperwork and thought that I was to be at the Apartments instead of the Monastery. We finally got past the language barrier and they took me in graciously hurrying me along strange labyrinthine halls so that we could get my luggage to my room and all of us get to dinner. 

I met a couple of women at dinner along with Brother Paul who cares for guest meals. Eva speaks a little English so, as tired as I was from a full day of travel, I was relieved to be eating, to have a place to sleep and very grateful to the Black Virgin and all of her cohorts, my spirit council for taking good care of me with just enough adventure to make the day exciting. 

I returned to my room to find sheets and towels on my bed. The room is simple and wonderful. The QUIET was truly deafening. I opened my small monastic window and gazed at the gorgeous mountain as I prepared for bed. Listening to the many bells, I felt at home. 

Hall of Mirrors

Today is Sunday May 28, 2017

I can hardly believe that my last message was sent on Wednesday. My goal has been to write daily, however, everything here has been so intense that there has been no personal time to write.

Last night was an amazing opportunity to make contact with the Cosmos.

We attempted this by starting with an evening of instruction about two Halls in the Temple that we visited this past week.

The first is the Hall of Mirrors. It is difficult to explain or describe this Hall. The entire space is captivating and like no other sacred place that I have visited. All four walls are mirrors that slant in slightly as the wall goes higher. 

I guess that the walls are about 20 feet high possibly more. Remember that this Temple is built inside of a mountain! It is truly incredible to be in the womb of Earth Mother. Every item inside the Temple is created by a Damanhurian.

The ceiling is a vast circular mandala that looks like stained glass. The Falcon's great wings meet creating the outer circle. The inner pieces are many colors and in the center, is a concentrated circle with colors and shapes differing from the rest. No photography is permitted, so this description will have to do.

Upon arriving, our first ritual act was as individuals of our group of nine. Each of us was to announce our presence to the Temple. This is a practice that I also teach at the Labyrinth. It is a way for those who come to visit and will be asking and expecting some energy exchange, to make a first connection with the Sacred entity.

In the center of the floor was a black circle held by a decoration of tiles like flowers and vines. Shama invited us to hold hands in a resonance circle around the center. Then each person, one by one, joined the hands they held behind their back so that the circle would remain intact. That person would then step into the center to announce her/his name and where they were from. In this way The Temple, which is an intelligent being, would recognize each of us.

When I first walked into the Hall of Mirrors, I saw myself and then I saw another reflection of my self looking at my self looking at my self. As I joined the eight of my group, Shama invited us to dance first with our self beyond the mirror. When the music was changed we were invited to dance with two of our selves beyond the mirror and then three and four. Finally, we were invited to discover how many images of our self we could find. I found 26 out of the possible 30. It was amazing to be able to see all of my physical reflections at once. Seeing my complete back as I danced was a first for me. To see my hair flowing in waves down my back, I was surprised at how long it had grown. This is not a vain comment, this is a new awareness as I see someone looking back at me who is not familiar. She is new, mysterious, full of wonder and a newly affirmed authenticity. She carries the Divine Feminine at a critical time is history. It is the Divine Feminine that brings hope to our planet as she rises.

Image credit unknown

I have so much more to share. Must leave now to go to Crotalo's Nucleo for Sunday lunch.

Later

PC

Temple of Humankind

Photo found at http://www.wanttoknow.info/i/damanhur-temples-of-humankind

Visiting the Damanhurian underground Temples is an out of this world fantastic experience. Several years ago, I visited for the first time and the experience took my breath away and inspired the deep desire to return here someday. Someday is now. 

The Temples are a work in progress. 

Every Damanhurian is represented in the Temples in several ways. The beauty and majesty of the art is all the ordinary people's work. Each one has hand crafted a terra cota representation of themselves. Many of the images in the paintings are actual faces of individuals of Damanhur. There are also paintings of those who have transitioned. The images of the three founders who have transitioned are seen in the mosaic marble floor along with the current leadership. 

Damanhur employs a rotating leadership and everything is done as a collective. 

We first visited several halls on the lower level. All of the Temples are inside the mountain. The Damanhurians hollowed out the mountain creating large caves. They did this by hand, using picks and buckets to remove the heavy rock of Earth. The Temples are entered by a discreet door that looks like a wooden cellar door. Before entering, each person must be attuned with the energy of the Temple. If this isn't done you could have an uncomfortable experience. No one enters the Temple area without a Damanhurian guide who first called our names, like a roll call. They have already gathered our birth dates when we registered. This is the information that is shared with the "intelligent energy" inside the Temple. Once inside, you are in a magical Egyptian passageway that has hidden doorways for you to discover in order to proceed. It is also a way to keep intruders out. 

We visited the Hall dedicated to Mother Earth with every possible surface artistically designed to honor Earth. The ceiling is filled with fiber optic stars in the pattern of the heavens 22,000 years ago.

No one is permitted to take photos inside the Temple. The Hall which is a few steps higher is dedicated to the spiritual aspects of Earth. Here is the androgen of male and female and the Creator with energies shooting into the cosmos creating the cosmic bodies and forces and creation dripping from its grasp.

A Young Fern Sings

Young fern leaf

In the late 1990's I visited Damanhur with a group of doctoral students. At that time, I knew that I had to return to experience some of the wonders that I wasn't able to see at that time. 

One of those wonders were the experiments that the Damanhurians were doing with plants. They had altered the technology of a lie detector that had the ability to pick up subtle changes in the skin when someone wasn't telling the truth. 

With the alterations to the equipment they are able to attach a small metal clip to a leaf of a plant and press a nail into the ground near the roots of the plant. With both of these connections they are able to hear the energy vibration that the plant emits. As amazing as that sounds, it isn't the most amazing part of their findings. 

First the machine was attached to a wild blueberry plant and there was no response. There were a couple more attempts to make a connection with one of the plants. Just as I was about to lose hope in what seemed to be an outlandish claim, that plants could and would actually communicate, the machine was connected to a young fern. After a few moments while we waited for the plant to attune itself and some of us were ready to pack up and leave, there was a sound and a green light began to signal. 

Then the amazing happened. We listened to a couple of random pitches as the plant began to respond to our words of encouragement. Since the tones sounded melodic to me, I began to sing Dona Nobis Pacem, translated to: Grant Us Peace, a round that we used to sing around Girl Scout campfires. 

I sang gently and calmly allowing the young fern to feel the vibration of the pitches that I sang. Soon I noticed that the plant began to change pitches. Sometimes it matched my pitches and sometimes it seemed to harmonize. The whole experience filled each one of us with awe. This wasn't just a quirk. We continued singing duets for a while. It seemed that the young fern was as thrilled that we were singing to her as we were thrilled to have her singing with us. 

Each day is filled with wonder. 

Grant Us Peace

Pastor Carol

Diamantel's Touch

Random photo from the Sacred Forrest ~ anonymous

Another visit to the Sacred Forrest to wall the circuits that are energetically programmed for different healings.

This area had been strip mined and left in very poor condition. The Damanhurians have been not only protecting, but also restoring this Forrest. Their dream is to build a new temple here to be the Temple to the Parliament of all Peoples. 

Diamantel is a beautiful tree that the Damanhurians protect. She is the matriarch of the Forrest. There is a spiral circuit around her which I walked. It leads all the way up to her and then I reversed direction to double back the way I entered. 

There is a sign posted asking that Diamantel not be touched. She is special and Sacred to the Forrest and there is concern about detrimental human contact. 

Each one was careful not to touch her even as she drew us to herself at the center of the spiral. What we noticed is that Diamantel had not read or had chosen not to heed the warning sign. She seemed to long for human contact as her branches bowed low to brush our heads, faces and cheeks as we walked the spiral circuit. She tenderly reached out to us in the silence of this walking meditation. We smiled. 

On our way out of the spiral, we had to pass each other on the narrow path. There were moments when we had to embrace one another in order to stay on the path as we passed each other. I felt like we were dancing around the spiral as we negotiated our way out from the center through embraces and spins. 

PC

Standing Stone

Into the Sacred Forrest to walk, feel, experience. A time to open my heart in a new intentional way with purpose and curiosity. Isn't every tree, every Forrest filled with this very same sacred magic?

I walked the area in the small natural plaza near a standing stone of over six feet. My body and spirit were drawn to the stone which had a very simple Celtic cross in a circle at the top above my head. At first, I leaned into the stone as if to be embraced by her energy, which I felt and experience. I pressed my lips to her rough cool surface and she kissed me back with tender firmness. 

I allowed myself to turn in her embrace so that my back was flush against her as she supported me. I felt her strength and her grounded-ness. I felt secure and held as I leaned into her knowing that no matter how much force I pressed into her she would hold me pressing back with equal force allowing me to hold my ground. 

When I was summoned with the others to come forward to create a circle in the natural plaza surrounded by stately trees, I felt strong energy strands stretching from the standing stone attached now to my back. It felt like thick glue stretching as I intentionally pulled away feeling her pull on me. Her strength came with me even as I moved away from her. 

It was an ancient grounding strength I felt. 

I thought of Ari'El, the great stone pillar of angelic strength that always accompanies me. I am held in this grounding and strength, not only ancient, but eternal. 

Thank you, Ari'El, for your willingness to free me and to hold me, just as I hold you knowing we share our freedom, in this, together we are eternally strong. 

PC

The Power of Names

Lunedi (Monday) after lunch.

The food is too good. Everything we eat is beautiful to look at, aromatic and delicious. After lunch, we were all wanting to take a nap.

Passaro is our van driver. All Damanhurians take an animal name and a plant name that they have as a teacher. This means that they are expected to learn the traits of each and to emulate them. Passaro means 'sparrow'. Today our guide's name means 'dolphin'. This makes me think about the names that I have had over the years. The name that I have had for many years is Snowswan. It is the email name that I have had from the very beginning of my dance with technology. 

When we lived in Michigan, we were blessed to live on Buckhorn Lake which is a small lake connected to Lake Orion. There was a swan couple who lived there. I called them Papa and Mama swan. 

I remember when I was traveling with the Native Americans across Oklahoma through Native American territory, some of the group were asking about receiving a Native name. It was then that I realized that the swans had already named me. 

Years later I shared a Vision Quest with Grandfather Bear Heart and he gave me a new name, 'She Who Walks In Balance.'

Naming is important. I believe that we are to live into our names, to immerse ourselves into the vibration that they provide.

Snowswan refers to the large white mute swan with a yellow-orange beak. The male can be formidable. When Frank and I lived on Buckhorn Lake in Michigan, the neighbors would warn me about the dangers of getting too close to the wild swans. There were stories of swans attacking folks who came to close to their nest, especially to the signets.

I had witnessed Papa Swan's warrior courage when he defended his family's territory from the Canadian Geese. They fought ferociously. Papa Swan would arch his regal neck, puff out his wings forming a kind of arch around his back, draw back his head with the readiness of a cobra preparing for the strike, and speed after the perceived threat. He was stunningly formidable!

The naturalist at the wild life center told me their wings are so strong, they can break a human arm. There have also been attacks on swimmers that can be fatal. 

I spent a lot of time with Papa and Mama. Remembering the neighbors' warnings, I was cautious around the swans Daily, Papa and Mama would come flanking the boat, one on each side. They stayed with me as I peddled around the lake. I felt regally escorted. Now they began to talk to me. They made these soft sounds, more of a chirp than a quack, much like talking. I asked one of my Native friends how to understand them. She told me to stop listening with my head and start listening with my heart. We now communicate easily. 

One night Papa Swan arrived at the pier. He was very agitated and I knew he wanted me to get into my peddle boat and follow him. I called Frank to see what he thought about this. It was dusk. The sun would soon set and I never went out on the lake at night. There were no lights and it didn't feel quite safe, but I knew what Papa wanted and it felt urgent.

Frank said he would put the lights at the back of the house on so that I could find my way back and, of course, he would be there waiting for me.

I got into the boat taking my walking stick that always accompanied me, even on the water. Sometimes I used it to gather debris and sometimes to gather treasures like swan feathers. 

Out we went. I followed Papa into the lake. He moved with determination and purpose. Soon we came to a form laying in the water. I grasped my stick to reach out and gasped when I realized what it was. Papa had killed a very large Canadian Goose. I said to him, "Papa, what have you done? I used my stick to pull it close to the boat. Then I lifted it on to the flat front area of the peddle boat.

Papa seemed to calm, as if his mission was accomplished. He was so proud to have defended his territory and preserved it for his nesting and future family. I found it sad to see this beautiful goose dead, at the same time, understanding the way of the wild and Papa's instinct to protect and provide.

Then a new realization hit me, Papa was giving me a gift. He was proud and happy to offer me this gift.

The swan is a strong totem filled with grace and beauty. For years now I continue to grow into this strength and to aspire to grace and beauty, not just of body, but of soul and spirit. Papa and Mama have taught me much about being a protector and warrior spirit. They have also showed me grace and beauty. Most importantly they have helped me to understand that being a warrior and emanating beauty can be done simultaneously. 

I received my name from Papa Swan and I believe it is my true name.