Three tablets date back to pre ancient EgyptHuman history as we know it to crumble after handwriting discovery — Inspo Daily
The 10 of Cups suggests that we are at least at some major hiatus point, both spiritually and emotionally. Reset may be too strong a word, and resets can be good or bad… I pray it is a ‘good’ one, naturally. The word Apocalypse, despite its dire reputation, literally means revelation, showing the truth – and don’t we need that?
The 8 of Swords in the background suggests to me that there is some major achievement in the realms of the mind and media which we are just not getting – yet. As to the nature of this, I am not sure, but it may involve new forms of communication which can be trusted and be more stable for humanity as a whole. This card, for me, represents the second decanate of Gemini, ruled by Venus, hinting at a generally positive development which can aid and secure all our interactions.
The Magician in the outcome position indicates that our future can be self-determined and that we can make a positive fresh start, perhaps even literally manifest heaven upon this earth, in time. We, as individuals, neighbourhoods, regions and nations, will have the ability to manifest what we need through our will power, to make changes in our lives, so long as we have the right motivation to do good for the whole, as well as for ourselves and our families. Well, let’s make it so.
Copyright Francis 2021
The mind of God is working
Humans in their place
Copyright Francis 2020
Jupiter in Aquarius Square Uranus in Taurus pushes forward into a new revolution in innovation, creativity, and adjusting the new horizons. This may be re-inventing self with new ideas, new education, and teaching one’s self to be self-disciplined, and thinking of long-term gains versus short-term gains. This might bring up a serious amount of impatience […]Jupiter in Aquarius Square Uranus in Taurus Transit — Diamond Fire Astrology
” A human being would certainly not grow to be seventy or eighty years old if this longevity had no meaning for the species. The afternoon of human life must also have a significance of its own and can not be merely a pitiful appendage to life’s morning. ” […]Carl Jung Quotes — blackwings666
*We could do worse than study the works of this great mind.
Look after ourselves
Look out for one another
Copyright Francis Barker 2020
When uncertainty pours life’s shattered beaker When normalcy, once was a friend; now a stranger And comfort’s companion; unsweetened comfiture. When building the temple of an expected future – Like jackhammering Herculean rock to Poseidon – Chisels invisible smoke into sculptures hidden. But – Blazing a new trail has never been, nor, ever is easy […]Unimagined Eden – A Poem — Suzette B’s Blog
Copyright Francis Barker 2020
From the first day let us start to terraform Mars,
make oceans from melting ice caps
and rivers run red through the rusty soil.
Day two let’s release plankton into the sea,
let out vast shoals of fish to feed on them
and steely predators to feast on the fish.
Day three we’ll throw spores into the sparse air
and watch the forests grow, the trees
stretch high up the slopes of Olympus Mons.
Day four let’s release mammals, birds
and other fauna into the forests and fields,
to watch them gorge on the goodness
of the land, enjoy the clarity of the sky.
Then on day five we’ll take ourselves
to the former red planet, to become
the feared Martians we thought were there.
Day six let us wage glorious, total war
among ourselves, make the rivers run red
in the name of the god who named this place.
And day seven let us rest, exhausted by labour
and lust, to examine our new abomination
from the safety of space’s vacuum,
in orbit with Phobos and Demos
without fear or dread of another first day.
copyright Leofwine Tanner 2019 and 2011
Providence recently took me to Flag Fen, a three and half thousand year old Bronze Age site in eastern England. What began in a field several decades ago with the discovery of timbers from an ancient causeway, has now transformed into one of the most significant archaeological sites of its kind in Europe.
Flag Fen lies at the fen edge, where the flat lands of the south and east meet with the higher ground to the west. It would have been a rich, much sought after environment then, one the most abundant in Britain at the time.
In those days the fenlands afforded a welcome bounty, an alternative to the interminable forests which had still not been extensively cleared. There would be fishing and fowling in the winter; in the summer as the water levels dropped, massive areas of pasture became available for sheep and cattle to graze on.
I’d been to Flag Fen before maybe a couple of times, though certainly not in the past fifteen years. It has changed of course, there is more to see and do. It even has some of its own Soay sheep to give it that authentic Bronze Age feel. But can we truly feel it?
What I enjoyed the most was the roundhouse reconstruction. That probably goes for a lot of the visitors, too. Yes, it’s only a reconstruction, but common sense tells you that it’s probably pretty accurate. Less accurate were my initial feelings towards these ‘primitive’ people who had to live in such dwellings. Standing before it, there was an odd sense of familiarity about the building. The roundness is, well, homely. It’s dark inside but not depressing, nor suffocating. In the summer it would be a welcome shelter from the sun and the heat. In the winter it would be a shelter from the cold with its wattle and daub walls, turf roof and warming fire. All year round it would simply be a welcoming family home. This would be one of the best alternatives to caves, which offer the same benefits of cool summer shade and warm winter shelter, a more organic and equable way of living through the seasons. It was natural, more efficiently heated than any modern house, even with the earth floors. And by the way, organic was the rule then, not the expensive exception of today.
But ok, so none of these people who lived at Flag Fen were literate. Yet they had a sophisticated working language, intimate knowledge of the seasons and the sky at night. Yes, life was very hard, brutal at times, and most often quite short. However, there was clearly a meaning to their existence. How many of us can say that about ourselves? The wooden causeways they built, the votive offerings of broken knives, swords, spears and other valuable items, they cast into the water either side: They genuinely believed a different dimension lay through and beyond that water. A dimension they inhabited after their death.
And who’s to say they are not right?
They experienced life directly, first hand. There was no TV: They had no news to listen to, no game shows or soap operas to watch, no video games to inure them to life’s crazy extremes. There were few distractions to prevent them from contemplation, the storytelling during the long winter nights. We can only guess who their heroes were. It was a harsh world, a verbal world. A real world. Do we live in a real world, or is it just different?
Neither was there any excuse not to pull your weight during the seasons: You either harvested, pulling together, or you starved. Everyone was involved, you invested your energy into your own community. You depended on your family, your community and vice versa.
So, would I swap my existence for one three thousand five hundred years ago on this piece of fen edge? Probably not, but I came away thinking that these people, invisible now, yet tantalisingly close at hand, were more than my equal. I feel I could learn a lot from them, discover something more meaningful in my own life, something better than merely typing these vain words, casting them into the ether. At least that Flag Fen farmer cast seeds that grew, caught fish to eat, slaughtered his own livestock. By comparison I feel almost like a pale shadow, whilst he positively interacts with his environment. So is there anything worthwhile I could teach him? I can’t think of a thing.
Perhaps we should reclaim (while we can, if we can) some of the practical, timeless knowledge we have lost, effectively go one step back to go two forward. It’s certainly foolish, arrogant of us to believe that Bronze Age men were in any way inferior to ourselves.
© words and pictures copyright rp 2016