Alright. Enough of the family news channel. Let’s get back to the multitudinous flow of the essential river. Back to the mystery woman we left sitting cross legged on the banks of the Mad. (See: Knight on a Fine White Charger, in Confessions above.)
So. As you may recall, dearest cyber-reader, I had just delivered an impromptu invitation to a mysterious meditating woman on the foggy banks of the Mad River. I had essentially invited her, a perfect stranger, to hop into my seventeen-foot, gleaming white fiber glass canoe, to go for a ride to the mouth of the Mad River.
I was standing up in the tippy canoe. Circling back upon the curious scene. With the help of a long canoe push pole. Only a few feet away from her in a glimmering. Pale, thinning fog. Steadying the white whale in the gentle river current. Trying to appear as nonchalant. Or, as gallant as Sir Gawain, the heavily armorclad Green Knight. Upon his finely attired, lusty charger. Upon meeting his chosen damsel. Or. His beloved princess?
Remember. I had just delivered. Aloud. With full heart feeling. Accompanied by: authentic Japanese aloeswood incense, a lighted beeswax candle, Tibetan bronze bell ringing, and, Holy Water from the foot bath of the living. Blessed Feet of the Guru. Adi Da Samraj, The Always Already Present. And, The Promised God Man. In this case. My thirteen page handwritten prayer/summons at my Upper Bay Road ranch household altar. To the long sought after feet of the hidden goddess. Which I had. Yes. Just explained briefly to madame. By way of inviting her to hop aboard. Oh.
A warm cup of dragonwell, perhaps? My dearies? There. Delicious. Isn’t it?
My name is, Alan. By the way. Right.
Nice to meet you, Sir Alan. She smiled. My name is Lorna.
And. Sure. I’d like to go with you to the mouth of the Mad River. But. I have to be back at work in forty-five minutes. Do you think we could make it to the mouth and back in half an hour?
No problemo, senorita. Or. Is it, la grande dame… senora?
Lorna is fine.
Alright then. Let’s go.
Bon voyage!!
And so we did. I push poled us downstream. Standing sternly. In the stern of the great white barque. Striking. A Lord Nelson. Or is it a Napoleonic pose? Trying to stay cool. Looking like a real live…
L’ idiot? Imbecile? Le cretin? Le sot? La bete?
No no no. Mon ami!!
Mythical. Mystical. Magical… Indomitable Alain de Mckinleyville.
Mmmm… Really…?
Then we both paddled back. Mostly “In a Silent Way”… upriver. The way we had come. You know. Very Miles Davis, 1969 cool. Although I did further explain to her that I was heading to the mouth with. A singular, sacred ritual intention—
To deliver Jessica’s Bloody Fucking Rocks!!
To unload My and Jessica’s Karmic Millstone.
To heave overboard the “pain body”.
Jessica’s weighty heart swamping memory.
To unload My and Jessica’s Karmic Millstone.
To heave overboard the “pain body”.
Jessica’s weighty heart swamping memory.
To discard the heavy boulders. That were sitting at Lorna’s feet. In the bow of the canoe.
Ah. She said kindly. With a conspiratorial twinkle in her eye—
She had marvelously expressive eyes. Lorna did.
Would you like me to toss the lot out for you?
Aaahh. There was my next best opportune moment. But.
Merci merci… No no no. Many thanks, madame!! Wi wi… But.
The truth is. I have found them to be the perfect counterweight at the front of this. Rather long, awkward. Wind buffeted craft. If you know what I mean?
The truth is. I have found them to be the perfect counterweight at the front of this. Rather long, awkward. Wind buffeted craft. If you know what I mean?
They appear to be coming in handy.
Ahhh. She grinned knowingly. I think you’re not quite ready to let go.
Oh no. Oh no. I’m ready to dispose of. The immaterial essence of. Well. Jessica. Just not the rocks themselves. Quite yet.
Are you sure? She furthered. It wouldn’t be a problem. They are right here at my feet.
Oh no. Oh no. I thank you kindly, my darlin.
What was going through my psyche was—
Well. Yes. There was the proper implementation of the ritual! Of course.
I would need to say the precise.
Holy speak.
The bright and the beautiful.
“Long life… honey in the heart… and thirteen thankyous”
Heart felt words.
To summon and to feed the spirits at the mouth of the Mad.
The infinite sky must be recognized and consulted.
The blaring sun must be noted and felt.
The ocean must be prayed to and acknowledged.
There are local deities who reside precisely.
Within the sacred location of the mouth itself.
They would need to be spoken directly to by name and considered.
Fully heart penetrating gratitude must be expressed.
Aloud.
To the four directions.
To the five elements.
And within the sanctity of the heart-minded palace.
Thanks must be given all around.
Holy speak.
The bright and the beautiful.
“Long life… honey in the heart… and thirteen thankyous”
Heart felt words.
To summon and to feed the spirits at the mouth of the Mad.
The infinite sky must be recognized and consulted.
The blaring sun must be noted and felt.
The ocean must be prayed to and acknowledged.
There are local deities who reside precisely.
Within the sacred location of the mouth itself.
They would need to be spoken directly to by name and considered.
Fully heart penetrating gratitude must be expressed.
Aloud.
To the four directions.
To the five elements.
And within the sanctity of the heart-minded palace.
Thanks must be given all around.
Full praise to The Great Salty Mother Ocean and.
Her Beloved Fresh Running Mountain Sister.
The Noble Lady River Dragon.
All of the hallowed gods had to brought together thusly.
For this highly delicate operation.
To work.
To succeed.
Her Beloved Fresh Running Mountain Sister.
The Noble Lady River Dragon.
All of the hallowed gods had to brought together thusly.
For this highly delicate operation.
To work.
To succeed.
Permission is required to enter here.
To breathe consciously.
To tread lightly.
To pick up a precious dead whale’s vertebrae.
To take an iPhone photograph of a sawn off snag perhaps.
To generally muck around in other words.
To take or touch any sacred god particle.
Therefore.
To breathe consciously.
To tread lightly.
To pick up a precious dead whale’s vertebrae.
To take an iPhone photograph of a sawn off snag perhaps.
To generally muck around in other words.
To take or touch any sacred god particle.
Therefore.
Permission is also required to dump boulders!
Ah so.
Even if the intention is.
To simply return them to where they belong.
Granted only by His Eternal Majesty—
The Magnanimous Great Spirit of the Great Undiscovered Land.
All of the blessed untouched.
Untrampled beauteous new territory that is always forming in.
And around the mouth of the river.
The sacred spit.
Yonder sacrosanct delta.
The Holy Land.
A set aside wild place of rich promise.
The in-between country.
Bardo Hermitage Sanctuary.
The ephemeral world where the living and the dead co-mingle.
A welling up heartland.
With tears of sand.
A tidal and wind swept plain.
Beside the ocean.
Ah so.
Even if the intention is.
To simply return them to where they belong.
Granted only by His Eternal Majesty—
The Magnanimous Great Spirit of the Great Undiscovered Land.
All of the blessed untouched.
Untrampled beauteous new territory that is always forming in.
And around the mouth of the river.
The sacred spit.
Yonder sacrosanct delta.
The Holy Land.
A set aside wild place of rich promise.
The in-between country.
Bardo Hermitage Sanctuary.
The ephemeral world where the living and the dead co-mingle.
A welling up heartland.
With tears of sand.
A tidal and wind swept plain.
Beside the ocean.
Well. You can see my quandary. I needed time and space for proper implementation of the subtle, delicate ritual of—
Kosmic Karmic Reimbursement.
And then, too. Acting as a goodly, responsible captain of my boat. With the safety of my entire crew to consider! I was not so certain of the shifty currents inside the wide open mouth. The pummeling in-wash of a churning tide. The swiftning swerve of the river channel as it made a lightning fast, hard turn left.
The roiling whirlpools and mounting rips!!
Coming about, Captain, sir!!
Aye!! Bring her about me bosun’s mate!
So many uncertainties within the fragile nexus. Of the decisive moment. I didn’t want this fair lady whom I had just met. Whom I did not know at the time. Was actually a high druid priestess of Eyre!!
Ah. The majestic mysteries o’ yonder terrifying deep.
Where the Landlord Herself. The Great White Lady! Most certainly awaits her afternoon seal meal.
I didn’t want to take any unnecessary risks with said fair damsel lifting heavy boulders in the prow of a moving
Rocking spritely.
Wave tossed.
Ocean merging—
Wave tossed.
Ocean merging—
My capsizable vessel!! You see. I was thinking urgently to myself. While appearing very Lord Nelson stoic. Casual-like. In complete control—
Never mind the rising cacophonous whitewater chaos.
The briny scent of bilious villainy.
And yonder great white sharky.
“Damn the torpedos”!!
The briny scent of bilious villainy.
And yonder great white sharky.
“Damn the torpedos”!!
(And the torpedoing sea lioness of the deep…)
Let’s get the hell out of here!!
Well. So. You see.
Let’s get the hell out of here!!
Well. So. You see.
Help me, Zeus!! Save me, Cronos!!
Re-consider this:
Creation Story, Cronus and Rhea
Birth of Zeus
According to Greek mythology, in the beginning there was nothing. This was called Chaos. From this nothingness came light, Mother Earth (Gaia) and Sky (Uranus) were formed. From Gaia and Uranus came six twins known as the Titans. The six twin Titans were named Oceanus and Thethys, Coeos and Phoebe, Hyperion and Thea, Creos and Themis, Iapetos and Clymene, and finally Cronos and Rhea.
Gaia and Uranus also gave birth to three Cyclopes, three giants, each with fifty heads and one-hundred arms. Uranus disliked his offspring, so he forced them to return to their mother’s womb. The pain of carrying the numerous children angered Gaia, and she made a plan for revenge against Uranus. She called upon the Titans to help her. The youngest, Cronos (master of time), came to her aid. Cronos, with his mother’s help, created a sickle and cut off his father’s genitals when his father came to be with his mother.
Cronos cast the cut off genitals into the sea. According to some versions of the myth, the goddess Aphrodite was created from the blood that dropped into the sea. In addition some of the blood dropped on to the earth creating all types of scary offspring.
After defeating his father, Cronos married his sister Rhea. The two had six children: Hestia, Demeter, Hera, Hades, Poseidon and Zeus. Cronos, after each birth, swallowed the first five children because of a prophecy that claimed one of his children would overthrow him. Rhea tricked Cronos with the sixth child, Zeus. For instead of handing Cronos the child, she gave him a rock in a blanket.
Cronos swallowed it believing it was the baby. Rhea then smuggled the baby Zeus to the island of Crete to be raised by nymphs. Later Zeus would return to defeat his father in the battle between the Olympians and the Titans.
Right. Well. There we go again. Wikipedia most wondrous.
In the so-called “modern world” which we currently appear to inhabit. No one I know. Not even white-skinned, ass-kicking cops. Has guaranteed impunity from the dark urges of the primordial chthonic constabulary.
One has to be very careful when handling these. Most dangerous rocks. Psychic history has very pertinent, precise directions for dealing with these kinds of cosmic suppositories. Mythology, then, is filled with ghastly tales of dastardly rocks. And the stupendous, dire consequences which may be incurred. When failing to heed the archaic. Yet ever timely—
Epic poetic algorithms. If not epigenetic warning labels.
It’s all in the handed down, often with hidden details, sure. But. Never forget to read between the lines writ large upon the ocean!
Think of our dear sweaty, exhausted… rock rolling brother, Sisyphus!! Prometheus, lashed to a sea stack, with a gargantuan osprey gorging itself upon his liver!! I know the liver can regrow and all that…
The reverberating clamor of Charybdis and Scylla?
Or… don’t.
Picture benevolent, immoveable Camel Rock on a big day!!
WHAMMOO!!!
Point is. Had I known. That I was ferrying an authentic Hibernian druid princess between the land of the living and the land of—
Well. That’s just the point. I didn’t know who Lorna was.
All I had was her unusual first name.
But. I did get us both back safely. To the very spot where I met her. On the near side bank of the Mad River. Well in time for her to return to work.
We smiled at one another. Said our goodbyes.
And. That was that.
Uh. Well. Not exactly…
