The Cycle: Making the Halves Whole

 

Let’s go back to Set for a minute. I mentioned back in the first post that Set had given me instructions about making my halves whole. He was never very specific about what he meant by this. I took it to mean something fairly ‘fortune cookie’ in nature. Quit being at war with yourself. Make peace with yourself. Make your dark and light sides balance… make that stuff whole.

Which, is partially right.

But now we’re back to layers again. And how everything has layers in Egyptian religion. And sometimes something is as straight forward as it sounds (at least on one layer or another). And in this case, Set wasn’t being entirely vague in his statement. He was being quite literal for once.

Allow me to explain.

Back in college, I ran with a group of entities on the astral. Although I’ve been only recently discussing astral stuff, I have had my fingers in the astral pie in some form or another for many years now. I had trusted these people, they were like family to me.

Well one day, something changed. I don’t entirely understand what or why, but I woke up one morning to someone that I would equate to my father standing over me. I was on the ground, unable to move. He smiled, said something about ruining me, and then slammed his whole hand into the center of my chest. The reverb was so painful- it’s one of the most painful things I’ve experienced in my life. It felt like someone had literally ran a hole punch through me. It had quite literally created a black hole in my chest. He had taken a part of me away and ran off with it.

Its because of this black hole that I stepped away from astral crap in general. I could feel that pain everywhere- waking or asleep. And over time, this darkness, this taint would seep from it. In many ways, taint is a lot like isfet. It corrodes your body, your mind, your will to do anything, and over the years, that taint began to consume me- to the point that my brain was nothing but negativity- it was this black ooze that existed in the Pit that Set sent me to. Whether Set actually sent me to the insides of the physical hole in me, or a metaphorical version- I can’t say, but the parallels are obvious (plus, who better to send me to fight something that is very isfet in nature, but the deity who is responsible for handling isfet every night). The layers of meaning and symbolism are miles thick. But there is more to this.

As I had mentioned- that person ran off with a piece of me. And then someone somehow got that piece from him, because I guess it contained something he wanted. He then took that part of myself, and beat the crap out of it- trying to get at whatever was inside. As he would do this, I would see visions and flashes of myself being bound, beat up, smacked around, you name it. And as it turns out, when Set was telling me to make my two halves whole- he was literally saying- get this part of you back. Reclaim it. Take up your pieces and make yourself whole again.

I couldn’t really appreciate that until I started to work with O in the river. Truth be told, I expected to never get that part of me back. I expected to live the rest of my life with this huge hole in me, and part of me being man handled by someone else who was out of my reach.

Turns out Set and O had other ideas, other plans. I would be useless to them long term with such a large wound in me. For them, there was no other option but to fix this.

Through the help of some other friends, I was able to have that piece of me freed and returned to me, where I drug it back to the river to be cleansed. As I had written at the time:

I’m standing on the banks of the river, and I run down to the waters edge, where this huge ball of light comes flying out of the sky and lands in my arms. Like a falling star, but much bigger. I hold this portion of me. This beat up, pathetic looking, dead, sad portion of me. I speak some words to her. Healing words. Words of happiness. As I start to enter into the water, O appears behind me, telling me its safe, and handing me my stone. I go into the center of the water and fall back. We fall into the water, and I give her more words. More peace. And slowly the water turns into blue and gold… a lot like lapis. I then see that both O and S are standing on the river banks. And after a little bit of me floating in this lapis, they come into the water, and pull me up and take me to the bank. I’m laying there, O to my right S to my left, and they are drawing stuff on me.. it glows gold. They say some stuff I don’t remember and O places his stone in my right hand and S places his stone in my left. They say some more stuff and take my arms up and clink the stones together, which causes some sort of light show on me and around me. Set tells me that the two halves are now whole. And then I’m told I should go home and rest. At which point I’m plopped back into the Room, onto the bed, soaking wet.

Suddenly, things made so much more sense. And with that, the Cycle had ended, well at least the first round had. Cycles are never ending- and as soon as you finish one, you’re just as likely to be sucked into another (which I have). This cycle took 3 years to complete, but I came out the other end much better for all of the strife I endured.

I don’t really know what the moral to this long story is, other than to keep your mind open (and that O wanted me to tell it to you). Many of us have preconceived notions on what the gods will do for us, and its entirely possible that one day you’ll wake up, and find that a god is throwing you down a rabbit hole that leads to somewhere completely different and better (and off of the history books). Many times we try to claw our way back up, instead of riding the chute down, but if you ever do find yourself being hurdled towards something crazy and different, and there just so happens to be a god along for the ride- I urge you to consider riding it out, to see where it takes you. Odds are, its somewhere filled with crack, but still pretty awesome.

Other Parts of This Series:

• The Cycle: The Pit
• The Cycle: The River

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The Cycle: The River

In the middle of the desert is a river.
At the bottom of the river is a door.
On the other side of the door lies the answers to everything.
But to open the door, you have to reach it.
In order to reach it, you must get to the bottom of the river.
To get to the bottom of the river, you must die.
To die, you must drown.

In the middle of the desert is a river.

The river is a convoluted piece of work. I had begun to see the river in late 2011. However, I wasn’t in a good place to begin my work there. My stomach was in so much pain that I could barely function. My stress was through the roof. And the thought of working with Osiris and his episode at the river were almost more than I could handle. I think he sensed this, and he backed off… for a while.

Shortly before Wep Ronpet of this year, I found myself back at the river- O standing there, looking at me. He was calling me silently, asking me to come into the water with him. Telling me that it would be safe, for this is a safe place. And only through these means could things be fixed. I struggled with writing about this for months. I had written briefly when it started:

I must take my wounds and cut them open. To allow them to bleed and to heal properly this time around. Once again, Osiris leads me back to the water, he beckons me in, reminding me that this place is safe. That there is healing to be brought, and lessons to be learned. There is no way to embrace my light without facing those who told me I had no light within me. I can’t move forward unless I completely face, embrace and own my past. I have to remove the lies and see my actions, and their actions, for what they are – as well as for what they aren’t. Unfortunately, unlike a physical wound which requires one cut and waiting for the wound to empty, this will more than likely be a lot more drawn out. A lot more painful. Much like his own mythology, this process may involve tearing myself apart again so that I may be put back together properly. So that I may function correctly and as a whole person yet again.

Thus began the second half of this Cycle. A journey to the river that is laden with crack and weirdness, but ended up making me complete again. I didn’t really know what to expect. And I didn’t know where any of this was going. But I knew that only one path lay ahead- the river, and whatever lie inside of it, beyond it. Much like O staring his own death in the face- there was no avoiding it. To run would only delay the inevitable. Better to face the fear, the crazy, and jump in head long. So I took the plunge.

It started with getting rid of anger. When O managed to get me back to the river, I had amassed a huge pile of anger. And the first step was to eradicate it- which I did through the water. I’d throw water. Stomp on it. Sling it around. Hit it. And I did so for a few days- fairly non-stop (in my head). And then after a while, I realized the anger had left. I had no more left in me for that. And once the anger left, I was able to give way to acceptance and yield to the rivers movements. Only once the anger had left was I able to actually get to work.

If there is anything that seemed to symbolize the river the most, it was a piece of lapis. Every time I would show up at the river, O would place a piece of lapis in my right hand. To this day, I’m not entirely sure what it meant, but it seemed to be important. For the first few visits with him, he’d stand with me, hug me, drag me out to the center of the river, lay me back in the water, and place that lapis in my hand. I assume the initial work was healing. Preparing me for what lay ahead. Cleansing what could be cleansed in my current state.

And then the crack really started to flow.

I went through a series of visions and mental/astral adventures where I would either:
A. Find a part of myself
B. Have stones removed from me

In the case of point A, I’d be rocketed off to some location. And I’d find a version of myself- usually all messed up looking. I’d grab my portion of “me” and make my way back to the river. When this would happen, I would have these overwhelming emotions as I would take my parts, and walk into the water. I’d get into the middle, hold on tight, and fall backwards. Both portions of myself would sink to the bottom slowly. Drowning. Dieing. Succumbing to the water, the process, the death, the healing. And at the bottom, you’d reach the door, and it would open up and show you something.

Sometimes, I would see stars. Sometimes pain. Sometimes I’d just light up like a Christmas tree. It really depends. And each time is a little different. No recollected piece ever reacts exactly the same.

In the case of point B, usually O would be with me. Sometimes he’d cut me open. Sometimes a pre-existing orifice would be used. There was a time when I was sitting with him at the river. My stomach was killing me. I was frustrated and in pain. And he is standing there, looking at me. And all of a sudden- BAM! He just.. shoves his hand into my stomach and slowly pulls out these black shards that look like obsidian. One by one he draws them out of me, and then shatters them. And after he has pulled out what he can, he drags me into the water, where I fall back, sink, succumb, die, and the door would open.

The process- its similar every time, yet it’s different every time. Slowly but surely, O was helping me to find the pieces I had lost of myself. He was helping me to heal them, eradicate what I no longer needed, and merge with myself. He was slowly making me whole.

And then I hit a bump. A huge bump.

Other parts of this series:

• The Cycle: The Pit
• The Cycle: Making the Halves Whole
  

 

Nelson’s Landing

Recently, there has been a lot of talk about gods in the land around us (see: here and here). This has inspired me to write about a place where I felt the gods on a very up close and personal level. For whatever reason, Nelson’s Landing has always been one of the few places where I saw the gods everywhere. It was a very sacred place for me.

So where is this place? Nelson’s Landing is a small little spit of a town that lies along the Colorado river. Nelson’s Landing is south of Boulder (Hoover) Dam, but is north of Laughlin (for those who know the area). And from my home in Henderson, it took me about 45 minutes to get out to the river. Nelson’s Landing is a place you could easily drive by. The town is tiny and off the beaten path- and there is virtually no commerce there. As you drive back through the mountains, you lose all telephone signals. You really do become cut off from the rest of the world. No one can call you or find you. It’s like being sucked into an alternate space- because you are just so cut off from the world outside.

The town itself isn’t entirely on the river. It’s a few miles back. The river itself is part of a state park- so there are a few dirt roads that weave in and out of desert. The scenery is stunning. There are huge cuts in the earth from years and years of rain and water. The washes there can be a couple hundred feet deep. And if I could afford to go biking or off roading through the desert around Nelson’s Landing, I would. I can only imagine the variety of things you could see back there.

However, the area I’m always most interested in is the river. I love the river. It’s calm and serene. Beautiful and blue. Growing up in a desert, I don’t get to experience rivers very much. And for whatever reason, I have a special fondness of the Colorado River. It always seems more beautiful to me than a lot of other rivers I have seen. And from the cliffs of Nelson’s Landing, I could sit and watch the river for hours on end. Many times I would climb up one of the cliffs and stare out over the river and soak up the feelings I’d get.

In the river, I’d see O. Calm and sustaining the local wildlife. Around him, I could see Aset. Embracing him, Protecting him. Watching over the land. In that, I could see Nut as well- as she also embraces and protects O. The desolate nature of the area made me think of Set. The ruddy color of many of the cliffs also reminded me of him. In the sky, you had the unrelenting sun- Ra. There was local wildlife- coyotes (insert jackal gods here), birds of prey (insert falcon gods here) and fish (Hetmehyt). Even though it is the middle of the desert, there is growth, plants and flowers. One time there was a large swarm of lady bugs… showing that life still thrives in a very arid climate. Geb is alive and well, and is flourishing. As you find refuge in the shade from the sun, sometimes you’d get a nice breeze coming through, so that you could feel Shu in the air.

For whatever reason, this mixture of elements- the river, the cliffs, sun, vegetation, rocks, animals… it all mixed together and made me feel complete there. The urge to connect with this was so strong that I’d get ‘cravings’ to go out to Nelson. And it wouldn’t leave me alone until I went and spent a few hours just soaking it all in (and while I waited for the weekend to be able to go out there, I’d actually look at pictures or look at google maps satellite pictures and stare at the river and pretend I was there… the feelings were that strong). It filled some sort of void for me in a way that no other location ever has.

And I’m sad to say that it’s been a few years since I’ve been back. It’s very hard to justify driving 8 hours to see Nelson’s Landing, especially when I could use that time and money for other ventures. I also wonder if I don’t feel bitter for not having the ability to go there regularly anymore. I loved the southern Nevada region. Something about it just made me feel alive. Living there was a time of high high and low lows, and I was sad to have to go. And although I tried really hard to stay, life had other plans for me. I no longer live in a location where my surroundings bring me joy, or remind me of my deities. Sure, I still have desolate desert to remind me of Set. A sun that beats down on me year round to remind me of Ra. Plants and vegetation to make me think of Geb, O, Min and Aset. There are also your coyotes and birds of prey here as well. Despite the fact that all of the ‘same’ puzzle pieces are here as are in Nelson, they don’t make the same picture when put together. For whatever reason, Phoenix doesn’t bring me joy in the way that Nevada did. I wish I knew why. I know I’m going to be here for a while and that this is the location I’m supposed to be in, but I can’t help but feel contempt for my surroundings. I know there are things here that I love that aren’t in NV, I know that there are aspects of Phoenix that make life a lot easier and happier (closer to family, Matsuri, IKEA, monsoon, etc). But still, I can’t let go of Nelson or Nevada. I can’t get over that feeling I get when I’m staring out over the river and surrounding areas and I feel like I’m a part of the world around me. Feeling such a push to go and be with my gods that I would clear out my schedule for an entire day to just go and sit by the river.

You’d think in the middle of the desert, I could find my gods and resonate with them. And while I know the gods are here, I really don’t connect with them in Phoenix. Despite the beauty that can be found here, I don’t resonate with it. I don’t get the same feeling of nourishment and comfort here, and that bothers me. How does one connect with a place that they can’t stand? How do I change my perspective so that I can enjoy and connect with the surrounding area? What is blocking me from doing so? I really wish I knew. Until that point, I’ll just have to suffice with closing my eyes and going to Nelson in my dreams.