Monday, January 21, 2013

Brigantia 2013, Issue Number 147

Issue Number 147 Brigantia 2013
Published Quarterly Since 1976

"The Disc Player" by Olivia Robertson

Aset Shemsu - "The Retinue of Isis"


Athena: Arcadian Awakening
VIII. The Azores

Reflections by Olivia Robertson

"To evolve through wider consciousness
is to have greater power to be good or evil."

When I was young I was taught by Spiritual Guides about the evolution of the cosmos.  They used a Woolworth’s corkscrew with a green handle.  I enjoyed my lessons, because I was never commanded to believe anything until I in my own truth agreed with it.  This was unlike any other teaching that I had been subject to.

We began with a circle, a bottle ring that contained all that is. This was our corkscrew pushed together, so that the curves became one.  It was in blackness.  The dark was all right, part of it all.  Then after a period of no-time the circle began to rotate.  As it rotated it began to spread out into spirals – a screw.  The screw began to subdivide into pieces, into every sort of being and thing.  I could think of it going from right to left, as we open a bottle.  Finally everything became scattered all over everywhere, loosely in twos.

Then came a happening, quite recently, on October 5th, 2012.  It was like a spirit of fire going opposite to everything.  This spirit began to make another corkscrew.  It went in the opposite direction, left to right, through our one!  Everything began to get together!  The twos became one, and all existences joined the new corkscrew.  Finally they became two circles again – the mouth of an invisible bottle!  The circle stopped rotating and there was a silence.  This went on until it vanished into darkness.  After ages a new circle formed, and the same process started again.  But each time it was different.

“What then was forever,” I asked, “with spirals changing?” “Consciousness was forever,” I was told.  It was God.  God (God-Goddess) was all that is.  What was changing all the time was consciousness.  Cosmic consciousness was our end and our beginning.  We all came from the One.  So I should give every person and creature and plant - Honour.

All my life I have had psychic visions, but the ones that I most value teach me something that I need to think about.  So I shall share a recent experience, and my reader might help.

Last year, in Chicago at the Alexandria Lyceum of FOI on October 30th, 2011,  I had a beautiful vision at dawn..  From a room behind her there entered a young girl of holiness and innocence. She had amber-coloured hair and she wore a silver-white gown.  I was later given an earthly name from the past, but I shall use “Sophia.” The Divine Wisdom in feminine form.

This year, 2012, I received another visitation from this spiritual being, this time presenting a mystery.  Here it is…  She was on this occasion full of life and energy, as light as a fairy.  Her clothes flowed about her as she played with discs, some very large, some small.  They were all around her.  I wondered what they were – too flat to hold liquid or fruit.  Also they were spinning at various rates into spirals.

The vision faded, but the puzzle remained, and still does.  I related these discs to crop circles which I have visited every year in Wiltshire.  I consulted an occult in Glastonbury who told me she had seen fine golden discs when she was nine years old and these contained teachings.

I imagined primitive islanders before the coming of Westerners finding a ship-wrecked traveller who might have rescued his wind-up gramophone and some records.  When saved by a passing ship he would leave the islanders a record but kept the gramophone. 

The priests and wise women on the island would try everything to hear the heavenly singing and orchestra again from the record, but get no results.  The gramophone record would be reverently honoured on their altar, hopefully presented with worship and prayers.

Are we like those islanders with all our evolving science?  We are very clever, but we are like a deaf race left with the score of Beethoven’s 9th Symphony.  They could draw equations, numerical and calculus, and create theories from the Score – but would never hear the music.

Such a disc could be held over the heart…. Or used to open doors by pressing a right place…But I believe that only by inspired consciousness shall we find the Unveiled Isis.  But where is our disc?  When Isis is unveiled, both space and time change into a wider sphere – a greater spiral.  We are living in one room in a mighty Temple, surrounded by beautiful mountains, rivers and trees.  And friends we have long forgotten.  Each of us has Awakening at a different time and place – and yet in all time we are there already.

The nice thing about mystical experience is that it is always unexpected.  That is the Divine Surprise. 

Arcadian Awakening
VIII. The Azores
By Olivia Robertson
Alchemical Rite
Part One: The Narration
"To live without vision is to be blind to one's soul."


All are of the Priesthood of Alchemy

AIDEN: “It is very kind of you to invite us to this lovely castle by the sea with its private beach.  You have everything here to awaken your psychic faculties.  One could see anything here!  Why do you require the urgent assistance of The Fellowship of Isis?

OISIN:  “Because you stand for everything that my family fears.

ELAINE:  “It sounds intriguing.  Please be more specific.  Let us have your Narration.”

OISIN:  “You will be moved by its tragic note, accompanied by the moaning of the sea.  My father was an Irish aristocrat, who bought this castle as a basis for his life’s work, discovering the lost island of Atlantis.  He married a peasant girl in our local fishing village, and this was his and my undoing.  For he aspired to the stars:  She wished to be a successful business executive. She had thought of emigrating to the States, but my father turned up in the nick of time.  At first they got on reasonably well.  I was born, but what seemed a blessing – proved a bitter source of contention.  He insisted on calling me “Oisin”, the Irish hero who was enticed to the Many-Coloured land across the ocean by a faery.  My mother added “Manuele” after a local millionaire, who became my Godfather.  My father dreamed that I could revive the Irish branch of the Order of the Golden Dawn, and become a poet like Yeats, an artist like AE, the Bard of Eire.  My mother planned on creating a fishing subsidiary, part of an American company that specialised in tinned factory salmon.  Horrible, imprisoning fish and destroying their ancient life cycle culminating in this ocean.

Finally tragedy struck.  My father was drowned during an exploration of a stone wall under the sea that he hoped was a part of the lost city of Poseidonis.  My mother found he had lost his whole fortune with his expeditions and the publication of a splendid book with coloured illustrations, “The Lost Atlantis Revived.”  But instead of Atlantis rising from the sea, my father’s coffin is lying beneath the ocean, martyr to The Cause.  I can show you a photograph of The Submerged Wall that he used in his book.  I added a tribute to my father in a new edition which I have produced on the Internet.”

ELAINE:  “You seem all set to follow in your father’s footsteps.  How can we help?

OISIN:  “By awakening my psychic vision.  Surely I should have clairaudience and clairvision like my father.  They say that the Irish have these gifts.  But I have tried every means – to no avail.  I have sat in dark rooms trying to see the aura around everything.  Not a glimpse.  I have sat in the lotus position gazing into the depths.  I cannot see even one nymph – the Goddess Cleito’s Atlantean offspring.  Salamanders elude me in the flames of my beach fire.  I am forced to earn my living in the Civil Service in a job my Godfather got for me – nepotism!  But I need to live in order to fulfil my dream.  I want, like AE, to see the Gods and Goddesses.  I wish to live in the world beyond ours in the eternal Land of Everlasting Youth.”

ELAINE:  “You put the blame on your mother and on your Godfather.  But you yourself block your soul, gifts inherited from your father.  You yourself are your own gaoler in a material cell.

OISIN:  “What am I to do?  How do I block my visions?”

ELAINE:  “You do not in the first place block your soul.  It is done for you at the very moment of birth.”

AIDEN:  “Who can blame parents training their children to fit in with religions, historical and national custom?  Very small babies are put under perpetual, loving pressure to be “normal.”  Apart from the obvious potty training, every move a baby makes is conditioned.  They even now extend this to ‘mentally challenged’ babies who may be aborted before they are born.  The mothers make sure their babies have the right physique – and are taught acceptable behaviour.  A mother used to submit to ministry of the clergy – but this has given way to the autocracy of the doctor.  A problem is that what is regarded as abnormal and to be rejected – changes.  So the child with spiritual genius is regarded as unbalanced, and to be rendered harmless, sedated with a drug now given to about 70 million children that can even cause death.  At least baptismal water was physically harmless!

The most powerful weapon used by well-wishers on the rising generation is within everyone – a desire to please OTHERS.  If this fails, violence follows.  And the present norm is to be clever, practical, and not to ‘hallucinate’.  Any form of psychism is treated as an abnormality.”

OISIN:  “I am beginning to see.  We Bohemians pretend that we don’t care what people think.  We do.  All our so-called eccentricity is aimed at impressing the public – we need a public to impress!  What must I do to unblock?”

AIDEN:  “You need continual moral courage.  The essence of Alchemy is to find the hidden gold within yourself.  Then what you experience will bring wider vision, which is the birthright of us all.  You will no longer try to impress others.  You will even endure being laughed at! 

OISIN:  “Somehow I feel hopeful.  I feel a tingling all over my body.  I can see a pale light round Deirdre!  She seems to be asleep.

DEIRDRE: “I feel the Presence of Cleito of Atlantis.  We can bring Oisin through the mystic doorway, where he may find the Golden Apples of the Sun, fruit of Atlantis.”

ELAINE: “Deirdre, I see you are entering trance.  Oisin, we may start you on your journey to your lost Atlantis straight away, here by the sea.  I shall be your Path Guide.  All you need to do is to lie on the strand, and listen to the sea birds as they fly over the ocean towards the horizon.”

Arcadian Awakening
Alchemical Rite
VIII. The Azores
Part Two: The Risen Atlantis
"To dream truly is to create"



AIDEN:  “Friends, already the Goddess has heard the prayer of Oisin that he may find his Land of Heart’s Desire, the lost Atlantis.”


“I come to you in heavenly dreams when your souls like lovely seabirds arise from your nests, your material bodies.  There is no human, however physically obsessed, who has no hidden dream of some lovely realm from which they have come.  The planetary school you call earth has in reality many levels, and consciously humans dwell in only one sphere of the third dimension.  They are blind and deaf to other levels above and below them.  And this is necessary as incarnation is the human path of individual development.  Each soul finds the pain and ecstasy of rebirth to another and wider sphere.

The time and space of every awakening is individual.  All through human history have found Divine Being.

Now at the end of an Aeon when human spiritual evolution has the opportunity of general awakening, it is necessary for each man and woman to seize this chance because the Gates close as the New Aeon dawns.  A New humanity is manifesting, and there is chance for each soul to awaken, however alarming this may be.  The past must be respected.  In reality, time is ever present in the Now.  It is we who travel, not the eternal tapestry of The Fates.”

AIDEN:   “Thanks are given to the Goddess Cleito.”

ELAINE: “Oisin, I see you are already in trance.  We await your account.  Do not lose the connecting link of my voice.  Where are you?

OISIN: “Funny you should ask that, because I don’t know!  I feel I have been asleep for a long time.  I’m back at the place where my father was drowned by the Atlantean Wall – but he’s here.  He looks much the same, only younger, before his beard.  He has been expecting me and shook me by the hand.  It’s real. I feel his warm grasp.  He doesn’t speak.  What he wants me to do is to look to the West, out to sea.  I want to talk to him – but he continues to point over the sea to the horizon.

At first I see nothing but a pale blue sky and white-crested waves.  Then just above the horizon I see a golden disc.  Some sort of UFO I expect.  It is growing, larger and nearer…. I overcome a feeling of fear because my father is no longer with me.  The disc has grown many times larger than the sun.  It rotates and from it come two dazzling white streamers like wings.  I remember seeing pictures of the golden winged disc of Ancient Egypt – but never thought they were real.  I try to stand firm, though my knees feel weak.  I remember reading of some huge Falcon, Horus, and expect to see Him emerging from the disc.

What a relief.  No terrible Falcon or Aztec War God rushes at me with bared teeth.  Instead there appears a laughing girl who holds a green branch like a quince with small yellow fruit.  She daintily steps forth from the Disc, which proceeds to leave her on the strand.  It diminishes in rotation through great sweeping arcs across the sea.  This, I thought, is the Sea God Manannan’s Wheel.  I never knew it really existed.

The girl can read thoughts.  She says “Yes, Oisin.  All sea spirits use these wheels.”
“Then this is subjective?” I say.  “Not at all,” she answers, and suddenly I feel she is wise for her years.  “What you dream of brings you to your own paradise. Every night use true vision and you go where you will.  Dreams exist, but have not the same properties as those which are true and beautiful.  There is only one standard to test a creation.  Only Goodness is forever.”

“Are you a Goddess?” I ask.  “Do you ever incarnate on a material planet?”

“Let us sit in the sand,” she says.  “I will tell you how I did incarnate on your earth, but it is not an experience I would want to have again!”

“You mean you are too perfect?”  I ask.

“In no way.  I’m too much of a coward to face the earth again.”

I feel offended.  I say “Human life is not that horrible surely.  Why did you come in the first place if you’re so advanced?”

She sighs. “I see you’re getting huffy.  I’d better tell you why I came and why I left earth.”

Now she shows me a series of images like a DVD.  They are extremely beautiful, and from some higher realm.  I see a golden orb like the sun, and within it is some extra-terrestrial Priest.  The young girl is receiving instructions.  Both the Priest and the girl are in bodies of pure light.  She wants to give some message to earth people in her light body, but she is told this would not do.  Human-beings would not endure nudity, and the Light would hurt them.  They were arbiters of what she should wear – appropriate robes.  They contributed to anything given to them, and were of course treated with respect.

I can see into the girl’s mind. She doesn’t like the robes.  The only people she can use telepathy with are children.  What is strange is that she never leaves the orb.  The people are far below, tiny figures.  But she can project to them and give them the message, which she does not properly understand.  But as she projects, she begins to see below the earth’s surface into horrific images of underground prisons.  She was told that people were entrapped because they chose to do so – due to some illness called “obsession.”  The girl decides to project into such places to help, though she is warned against doing so.  Now she makes a wonderful discovery!  She has a twin brother on earth who has incarnated before.  He stays, but finally she has had enough!  Her brother is an extremist.  She makes up her mind in future to avoid the physical world, which has no attraction for her, but to work occasionally in the dream world. There helpers travel at night.  She finds they bring people lovely dreams.  They dwell in heaven and visit earth when called upon, but always remain spiritually awake.  Her brother does it the hard way and returns only when he has to.

I find I can’t help laughing.  Yes, men are like dogs.  Women are like cats, and look after themselves.  Then I have a shattering thought.  She refers to a well-meaning twin brother who suffers on earth helping others.  Surely this is not myself?

“Oisin,” the girl says, “You need to travel. I have brought you to your Land of Heart’s Desire to give you hope and strength for your work on earth which you do for love.  You needed to find your way here because you have found you need your soul.  Any time on earth when your work is too cruel, you may now travel here, and see things in proportion.  Earth and heaven are one when joined by a Rainbow of Joy and Beauty.”


OISIN COMES BACK FROM TRANCE VERY SLOWLY.  He says that it is true that his work in the Civil Service is to deal with the Probation Services for Prisoners.  Their lives are often harrowing.  Now he will take a nightly journey on the Winged Disc.  He will return at dawn refreshed and inspired for his day’s work with his fellows.

Note:  These Rites may be used for meetings of the Muses Symposium and the Arcadians.

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