“Let Yourselves Go and Enjoy Life to the Full”


timthumb.php“Cease being concerned whether you are growing spiritually or whether you are
 on the right path, or in the right place, or doing the right thing. Cease being self-concerned and simply open your hearts and think of those around you, give to
 those around you, let yourselves go and enjoy life to the full – life in all its
 abundance – all its wonder and glory. Give and give all the time, with never a
 thought of what you can get out of life, for the more you give the more you will

This is guidance which Eileen Caddy (One of the founders of Findhorn) received while living in a caravan in Findhorn, Scotland. It is one of those beliefs that I believed in wholeheartedly while living in the UK and Ireland! Here in Egypt, however, I struggle to enjoy anything. I don’t worry about whether I am on the right path, I know I am, and I don’t worry about whether I am growing spiritually, I am doing that too! I just wish I could FEEL something, other than – nothing! Well – nothing happy, or excited anyway.

2014-10-18 07.25.10This week, after raising our hens from chicks, we finally got our first eggs. A joyful occasion I would normally be over the moon about. But I feel absolutely nothing! I’ve been thinking about why I feel nothing and I think its because there are so many people waiting for these eggs, and coveting them, that I don’t want to feel happy about them. As soon as I feel anything good here about the animals, or the garden, somebody comes along and kills it!

When you give generously here it creates a situation of envy wherein the person you are giving2014-09-02-08.33.17_thumb.jpg to then feels envious, because you have something to give in the first place! Then they start to try to undermine your efforts or make nasty comments. If you give everything here you end up with nothing! So I think that Eileen’s guidance might have worked well in Scotland, but it sure doesn’t work here.

I think altruism has to be reconsidered, taking into account cultural beliefs about generosity and wealth. Its a constant battle trying to maintain boundaries here, and I think that that issue is probably one of the most undermining. If people were taught about how to have boundaries, and how to live honest lives, it wouldn’t be so hard!


2014-04-03 17.22.35Yesterday we got back our sack of freshly ground wheat, which I had cleaned the day before for the mill. It was lovely and fine and the miller was impressed with how clean it was. (I’ll write that process up in another blog). I should have felt overjoyed, after all Omar grew the wheat, harvested it by hand, and brought back more bags than all of his neighbours. But I felt completely flat! I had no sense of achievement, or pleasure in eating something baked by flour we had grown and processed ourselves.

Back in England, after spending a full day in the garden growing veges, with my friend Chris, I would go to bed at night feeling absolutely and completely satisfied. The feeling came from the knowledge that we were taking care of some of our nutritional needs, rather than depending on the supermarkets. Growing food gives me a feeling which no other activity on earth gives me. It is completely satisfying and nourishing to my soul. DSC_1674The fact that the work in the garden went hand in hand with the knowledge that we were creating an energy-space made a huge difference too. Every plant had its purpose, and was important to the over-all energy.

Here, I never get that feeling. The men grow things, not the women. The men will grow stuff for the women, but they can choose to remove it if they want to grow something else, and the women have no choice about it.

But that is only half of the problem. I spent all night, and most of this morning, thinking about why I feel so dead inside, when we have produced our own food. Some of it is because I personally have not grown it, and have no real part in it, except for financial, and doing the energywork in the field. I have not had the pleasure of planting the seed and nurturing it to maturity, then of the harvest.

The biggest part of it though, I realised, the part that is really important, is that it is not safe to enjoy, or take pride, in anything here. My time here has shown me, that to achieve anything good means to incur the jealousy and envy of everyone. People here are afraid to be proud of themselves, to pat themselves on the back, or to enjoy anything, because they are constantly having to protect what they have created from other people’s bad eyes, or atrocious behaviour! People with money lie about it, and pretend to be poor, because to show you have money means there is someone who is willing to take it away from you, by force if necessary!

DSCN9566I noticed too, that once they started eating the ducks, which we had raised, that I cut off from them to an extent. I stopped enjoying their play in the water. I used to watch them for ages. Now I feed them and fill their bath but cannot afford to enjoy them, because I know that they won’t be with us for long.

This ‘emotional cutting off’ thing started when I was a young teenager growing up in an equally abusive environment in southern Spain in the 70’s. The Spanish people were so abusive to animals, and to each other, that as a young girl I found it impossible to understand it. I was abused too for those two years, so between the abusive boys, and the animals, my only protection was to cut off my emotionally. Every time I did open up and love an animal I lost it, which caused even more pain. The same thing applied to relationships!

Living here in Luxor is like re-living my childhood in Spain, only this time I try to change it and heal it. I knew that coming here would open up old wounds but it is difficult to heal those wounds when people are behaving the same way as they did in my youth! I still find the behaviour hard to manage emotionally, but I try to change it and fight in a way that I couldn’t when I was young. But I cannot change the beliefs of an entire society!

Life here could be so much better if people enjoyed each other’s successes instead of trying to destroy them!

The White House, El Tod, Bayrat, West Bank built between 2008 and 2009

Hidden business of famous Luxor West Bank companies

ImageYou may find the 4 storyes building right across the banana field on the right hand side of the road starting after Kareem Hotel in Gezira. It has a domed upper floor and was initially purely white.

This building was stolen, his initial owner and designer robbed of all means, by the West Bank mafia: (the family of Mahmoud Jahlan Abd El Al Omr, Hassan Shabban Abd El Al Omr, Mohammed Abol Naga, Hamada Ahmed Khalifa) .

The property is currently put on sale and is being rented by Hamada Ahmed Khalifa and his Dutch wife Karen Khalifa.

One might be renting or buying from thieves…


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Multi-Level Existence.

2006-04-14 09.28.01 I’ve been having such great ideas lately of how to help the house, but I should know better by now. I went downstairs, for the first time in days, yesterday and I ended staying down there for about an hour. Bad idea! I realised that my ideas have no chance of coming to fruition as long as the men here are in control. I want to take actions which empower the women but the men are so dysfunctional they would never allow it to happen. Mother too is always going to be in control and I really do not want to be fighting what does not work. It’s too exhausting. 

But while I was thinking about all of this, this morning, ‘upstairs’ explained to me why it was important that I stay upstairs! A few months ago they told me not to go downstairs, to stay in the flat. I didn’t understand then why they were saying that. I have been looking forward to the winter all summer long, for the ability to go outside, having been stuck indoors all year. But as soon as the weather cools down I get a cold which just won’t shift. The fact that this flat is so bloody cold too doesn’t help. It’s like living in Ireland when I was a child except that we don’t have any heating here. It’s like nobody manages the heat or the cold. Why don’t they have fires here? They will build one outside but then you have to sit downstairs with all the kids playing with it and I can’t stand to see it. It is so dangerous. Apart from that I do not like lots of company! I just cannot manage it. I can’t just sit there, I need to be doing something!


So there I was, feeling like there was absolutely no point to me staying here in this house and how it would be easier to actually get a life outside of here, when I understood what ‘they’ had meant when they told me to stay indoors. I am currently working on two levels, like at Memnon. (Although in this case I am acting as the male energy, as did Hatshepsut,and Omar is the female). Upstairs I have anchored energy which is different to the energies I have anchored downstairs. Yet they are connected to each other. The energies/thought-forms that come into this upper level slowly filter down to the lower level, like the human energy-field. But in order to keep in the space where I can receive these energies I have to avoid going downstairs because as soon as I do I am in the middle of all the negative energies generated by people. Emotions and beliefs that appear ‘normal’ to the people who live in them are energies which I cannot manage. They are too hopeless. There is little forward movement with them. No matter what I try to initiate they stall. The men make the craziest decisions, decisions which effect their families and ultimately the whole house, but everyone just has to put up with it. They have no other choice. It is the most frustrating experience to have. I can see where they are going wrong and yet no-one wants to know. It is as though downstairs people live with the ‘death’ impulse; that impulse that kills life and creates illness and despair. But through years of healing I overcame my own ‘death impulse’ and now my impulse is towards growth and life. But you cannot make a plant grow where there are 20 people ready to trample on it!

BUT, what I am made to understand is that if I, on my level, create the life I want to live, on a physical level, that these ideas will eventually filter down to the lower floor. If I create a place which is warm and beautiful, on the amount of money we get, then it will inspire those downstairs to do the same. I can bring in those ‘higher’ ideas and manifest them on this level and hopefully, in time those ideas will impact on those downstairs.

2001-01-01 00.00.00-26 (2) The mediating factor here is Omar, as he has the dual function of acting on my ideas downstairs and creating chaos up here because he has the same impulse as those downstairs. That creates a lot of obstacles for me, as I try to create something and he ruins it, not intentionally, but because it is the way he has always lived, without beauty and in chaos. I have to take that into account when I am recreating the flat and make rules. I have started to become quite firm with him now as this has gone on long enough and I cannot be an Egyptian wife any more. I have to be myself! I understand the Egyptian marriage dynamic well enough now to know how to counteract it! Although that does not stop it from effecting me! But I have to feel my female power now and act on it, knowing that it will create problems and a little conflict but if I am to achieve this then I just have to bite the bullet! Our friend Chris will be here soon too and he has been doing this work for quite a few years so that will make it easier to manifest too. 2001-01-01 00.00.00-45 (2) But Omar is creating abundance in the field, growing food and generating more income for the family, so he is taking the ideas we ‘receive’ and acting on them. The next step is learning how to use that income wisely and not give it all away for crazy and unnecessary projects downstairs which benefit nobody but the men! 

Understanding how the levels work explains why Hatshepsut built her mortuary temple on three levels. The ground level is very much about the Earth/Mother and what it produces. The next level is the balance between the light and the dark, male and female, both energies mediating the upper and lower levels. The upper level is the Solar/Male level. Hathor brings the nourishment of the Mother, while Anubis brings the dark of the human unconscious. She is love and hope while he is death and initiation. Although it is the relationship between the two, the conflict generated between the two opposing energies which creates growth. Like the 4th ray, of harmony through conflict.

2006-06-28 20.07.25 (2)This awareness also makes me think of why chapels are built on an upper level rather than on the ground floor, such as at Corfe castle and on mountainsides. They are built on levels of energy which allow them to be a medium between those layers and the layer of humanity. Nothing is accidental when it comes to spiritual architecture and its placement! The clues are in the building itself and in its position. In order to build these places the designers/architects have to understand the principles of energy which they are representing. In our case here, in our home, we are taking what is already built and modifying it to become a spiritual space. The energy-work has already been done and now the physical manifesting of it needs to happen.

Little by little.

So I will work with these principles in mind and see what happens. These energy-lines Chris and I have built here go out in all directions, and so whatever ideas I receive and act upon also influence the people who reside beside, or on, those lines.  It is not just the people who live in this house who receive the benefits. So I will stick with it for a while and see what changes. If we are not here then there is no possibility for change; but as long as I am, then there is.

I guess its that simple!

The Cow Shed.

I had a dream a couple of nights ago that I was on a farm. It was connected to another, larger farm, which could be accessed via a door in the wall. The larger farm was richer and owned by someone else. When I opened the door to this farm I saw one cow, standing by itself in a large space. I couldn’t see the owner as he seemed to be working elsewhere.

On the smaller farm they had kept the cow in the cowshed, but they never cleaned it out. It was full of ancient cow-dung which was so thick it lay in piles on the floor and mangers. There were no longer any animals in the shed, just dung. For some reason I was in the cowshed. I was fascinated by the insects which were making their home in the dung but I couldn’t figure out why the people who owned it never cleaned it. It surely couldn’t be good for the animals.

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This cowshed also housed 6 dogs. Three of them were mastiffs and three were scruffy, scared dogs, like the usual stray dogs one sees here, roaming the villages. As I looked around the cowshed the three mastiffs growled warnings at me. They were not at all happy that I was in their cowshed, looking at their cow dung. The other three dogs were too scared to growl and kept their distance, having no power at all. Every-time I went to look at some interesting beetle which had made its home in the dung one of the mastiffs growled at me. “This is mine,” he seemed to be saying. “Leave it alone.”

The dogs didn’t seem to be aware that they were both living in, and being protective of shit! They had lived in it for so long that they didn’t see it for what it was and they sure didn’t want me interfering in it either. I ended up having to leave the shed as I was clearly not wanted in it!

That pretty much sums up the experiences of living here. The three scared dogs are the women, who live in the dark shed but who have no power. The mastiffs are MIL and two of the men, who all make it clear how much input they want me to have.

But, for the past couple of days, I have been thinking about this situation with the scared dogs/disempowered women. Their complete dependency on their husbands means they are always living on the edge, having to ask them for everything they need, even if it is only hair cream or soap. They have no independent income, unless their own families give them gifts. So I decided to get each of the women some chickens of their own and give them a lamb, once they are born. We have three ewes now so next year we will have more. If the women have something of their own, which the men have no power over, then maybe it will help them to feel a little more secure. They will keep their animals in with ours so that MIL has no power over them either. She rules the roost…but not in my shed!

Maybe that is also what the dream is about! MIL has her own chicken house, which was once mine but she took it back sneakily! I then had no place to keep my hens. When Omar and I decided to buy the cow he and his brother made a big enclosure so we could keep her, the donkey and the sheep in it. MIL is not allowed into the enclosure anymore after her last stunt with me in there. Her chickens are now also in the house she took from me and do not enter the cow’s enclosure either! So the cow’s enclosure is the ‘large farm’ with the cow in it and the small room, which is full of s**t, is the old one, the one they are all trying to guard so desperately. All of that power over…nothing. Omar has made sure that the cow enclosure is under our jurisdiction so we can do what we like there. I want to share it with the other woman so that they too have something.

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The other morning Omar had been up all night, looking after his elderly father. The brothers take it in turns to sleep with him. He was so tired the following morning that I said I would feed the cow and the sheep so that he didn’t have to. I went downstairs;, MIL was nowhere to be seen. One of the other wives was there, sweeping up and collecting the dung for the bread oven. One of the brothers had given some berseem/clover to the animals but it was a snack really! I stood and talked to the kids, trying to decide how to to feed them. I was aware of feeling like ‘I was not allowed’ to feed them because it was not my ‘right’. No-one is ever happy with me when I take the initiative, but then I thought ‘stuff it’. I’ve paid for the damned food and Omar has put all of his time and dedication into growing and harvesting the maize (by hand I might add), so I have every right to feed them if I choose. So I did. Six-year-old Batha, who was babysitting her less-than one-year-old sister, (a whole other blog!), helped me by getting the water, while I took her little sister from her. Needless to say, MIL never said good morning or even acknowledged my presence. When I commented on it to Omar he said she was jealous because he had told her to keep out of the cow enclosure. Hey ho, but good for him. He always supports me in these issues and I just play the game and don’t react to her. I stay friendly and generous no matter what happens, but I do speak honestly to her if she tries to manipulate or con me so she is learning that I have boundaries and I am supported by her son. I am the only woman in this house whose husband supports her!

This issue of power is my Third Gateway initiation, which I experienced at Wayland Smithy. Overcoming male control and acting regardless of their ‘oppression’ and control is one of my challenges, especially as it relates to ‘Mother’ energy, so this issue is one which I have to overcome here. No better place to be sure! But thinking about that particular initiation also gives me the understanding of how the ‘illusion’ of oppression works in reality. Yes oppression can have physically damaging outcomes but often it is what is ‘threatened’ which has the greater effect in stopping us from achieving freedom.

I remember my first experience of this from my first visit to Cairo in 2001, a couple of years before I began to do earthwork. I was attending an ascension workshop with Anrita Melchizadek, and was staying in the Horemheb hotel (Clue there!). After a disastrous taxi drive from the airport to the hotel in the middle of the night I finally got to sleep.

The following morning I awoke and looked out of the window at the busy street outside. It was chaos. Cars driving like crazy things, horns beeping and most of all, women dressed in black, from head to toe. I hated it. The sense of female oppression was terrifying and I thought I would never be able to go onto the street. I had come alone to Egypt and had not yet met any of the other workshop participants. I felt completely alone.


But while I was watching the streets and feeling more and more scared of going outside I suddenly felt very defiant. What was I thinking? I wasn’t going to allow any stupid, weak man to stop me from doing anything! So I got my clothes on and went out for a walk. I had an energy around me that just ‘dared’ any man to touch me or even talk to me. None did! I walked for about a mile and then walked back to the hotel. When I got into the lift in the hotel I met a couple who were also going to the workshop. They asked me what I was doing outside and I said I had a gone for walk. “What…alone? That’s not a good idea, it’s not safe here for women alone you know,” the woman told me, her husband nodding in agreement.

“No shit,” I said to myself. “Too late now”.

The Divine Flame.

This morning, as I was waking up, I had a vision. In this vision I was looking at a desert hilltop and on the top of this hill a huge fire was being tended by a woman. It was a Sacred Flame, the Flame of Life. She had kept this flame burning and over time it had become bigger and brighter and had lit up the surrounding landscape. The energy of the sacred fire kept the country stable, peaceful and prosperous. The Keeper of this Flame was the King’s daughter but he also had a son.


The King had watched this flame grow and had become very jealous, and scared, of how powerful this flame was becoming. So he sent his son to build a fortress around it, to contain it.  Then he instructed his son to build his own flame beside the fortress, so that his flame would be the brighter one. His sister’s flame was now no longer accessible and had become invisible to all those who lived in the surrounding land.Only the king could benefit from her work. Unfortunately, the King’s son had only built a fire, he didn’t know how to empower it so that it would be a Divine Flame. Therefore it burned with no spirit, but his sister’s flame could no longer be seen by anyone and so everyone believed that the flame built by the King’s son was the flame that brought all the prosperity. But it wasn’t.

One day an invasion from another country forced the King’s son to be called away to fight against the invading army. He left the flame and ran down the mountain to lead his father’s army into battle. The fire slowly died down and there was nothing left but the citadel, the fortress they had built to ‘guard’ the flame and to keep it ‘safe’. No fires burned. No flames lit up the night sky and the country sank further and further into darkness and war. The Feminine Flame was dead, replaced by a masculine fire, which had now burned out and was also dead. Now it was a world of men and the dark forces reigned.

They have reigned ever since.

This is the story of the Sister of Saladin and the demise of the Sacred Feminine during the time of the Crusades. It is the story of how the Divine Feminine Flame was extinguished, a flame which the true Crusaders sought to keep burning in the Middle East. This is not what the history books tell us however. That story is a different one.  What is does point to though is the presence of a sacred flame site within the Citadel in Cairo, a flame which can be re-ignited, bringing back the Divine Feminine to Lower Egypt…and that is definitely worth a trip!

On a personal note I am also aware of a personal message in this story. I feel quite ‘restrained, here in my fortress of a home and wonder how to do my work of keeping the Divine Feminine energies flowing here, but it often feels like my own personal fire is being extinguished by the men around me and their constant need for control and power. They use my power to pursue their own goals of ‘building their kingdom’ but block me from building mine. My ‘kingdom’ is not really mine but belongs to everyone, or at least it is created in order to feed everyone. But they don’t really understand that, seeing the world through their cultural eyes only and so it feels like my fire is slowly going out. They use all of my ideas to build a stronger life but I am not given the same freedom. So…how do I stop my fire from being extinguished?  I am the Keeper of the Flame, that is my job, but how can I do my job if I live in a fortress?

I guess I need to figure that out…

Push No More. Channelling. December 3rd 2013.

From the moment you are born, to the second of your departure, you are expected to unlearn everything you have ever learned about the face of humanity. In order to undo centuries of negative experience you have to completely and utterly empty yourself of all of their memories and experiences. You cannot refill a cup which is already full!

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Although this process takes many years, and much difficulty, you have to learn to focus on what you want to see as opposed to what you see. You have to learn to dream and to create those dreams whilst in the middle of a difficult current reality. Only then can you hope to bring change. If you focus always on the ‘bad stuff’ that you see around you everyday you will not have the necessary energy to put into making things better. We are not speaking here of making the life around fit everyone, as everyone has their own reality to create, but we mean that you can create the life you want to live even in the middle of other people’s lives. This is like a flower which is growing amongst the weeds. We mean no judgement here as all souls are inherently equal; but their creations will not always match yours, and when this happens you will then have to either work harder to create what you want or change tack and leave the vicinity. Rather a difficult task for a flower which is rooted in the earth!

So we say to you this: try to find the path forward, where you are creating the reality of the life you want to live, no matter what others are creating around you! If you stay on the branch which is broken you can only expect to fall.


Leave the path which is failing and create a new one to follow. It is all up to you ultimately. What other people want for their lives is their business but when you know what is not working, and you find a better way, then why stay with what is not working? Leave the past behind and forge a new future, for yourself and your loved ones. Those who like what you have created will join you and you will find that your life will take on a new hue and a life of its own. It is all up to you.

So leave your negative thinking and focus on the reality you really want. Leave all else behind. Remember, this is your life and no-one else’s. Think ahead…then be brave.

Keep following the path of least resistance and push no more.


Personal interpretation:

This channelling comes at a time when I am struggling to find a way forward. Although it seems to be obvious, and God only knows I have been doing this for years, I feel that I am back in old energy dynamics which I find difficult to manage. When I first moved to Egypt I had my dream of creating a farm and having a self-sufficient lifestyle. However, two years later, and a lot of struggling against the tide of Egyptian thinking, I am having to change my goals. I spend a lot of time alone, which is usually not a problem, as I like my own space, but here I feel more lost than usual and find it very difficult to achieve any kind of independence. My husband has his own path, being a farmer, which is not what he had in mind when we got married, but he loves it and he is good at it. But while it was one thing getting him to move in that direction, instead of focussing on the Tourist trail that most Egyptian/Foreign marriages forge, it was quite another trying to take that path with him. It’s just too hot for me in the field and so I spend most of my time at home. I have been filling my time with crochet, knitting and blogging but I need to be outside. However, being outside is another issue altogether. I often feel that I am living in ‘house arrest’ and only have the flat and garden to use. Leaving the house means moving into constant hassle from boys looking for ‘Baksheesh’ or women staring at me, or shopkeepers trying to rip me off. It is a battle every time I leave the house, so I just stopped leaving it. Going through the menopause is also making it more difficult due to the hot flushes I seem to have virtually all day and all night. 

293657_10150371750199284_242178626_n  But the weather is now becoming cooler and I want to go out. My husband isn’t much interested in antiquities or exploring; he has lived here all his life, to be fair, so there is not much for him to explore. So I have to go myself and just deal with the hassle. There are limits to that however as I would dearly love to explore the mountains, but there is not a hope in hell of doing that alone. This isn’t England or Ireland! Omar does get worried but he knows I can manage myself. But he still insists on making sure he organises the transport for me on the West bank, so I do not have to deal with the service taxis.

So I have been thinking of ways to make my life easier and to find a different path. For the past few days I have been ‘seeing’ the flat painted and beautiful. I have resisted this before because of all the jealousy and envy of the people here. But I have learned that they do nothing to make their own lives work and are content to live in chaos. It is, after all, all they know. But I cannot live like that with them. I like order and beauty and peace. This place is noisy, dusty and dirty. Not a sanctuary by any stretch of the imagination! But I have to create one somehow, if only for ourselves.

I am also ‘told’ that my future income will come from weaving, with the wool from our sheep. So painting and making the flat nice and organised will help to create a space for me to work in. Plus our friend Chris is moving out here next year so that will makes things more manageable. He likes exploring too!

So for now, my new path involves forging my own! Regardless of what others are doing around me. I am only responsible for my own life after all, as the channelling reminds me.  

A Dark Night of the Soul…

This morning I have woken up feeling utterly exhausted and aching from head to toe. Yesterday evening I went out for a coffee with a friend, she lives next door and is married to my husband’s cousin. It’s the first time I have been out since my last trip to Luxor.

Just before leaving our flat I began to feel an anxious feeling in my stomach. I felt nervous at the thought of leaving the house by myself and asked Omar to walk around to my friend’s house with me, as he was going over to the bank anyway and could catch the service taxi from in front of her house.


I didn’t understand why I felt like I couldn’t go by myself, as I usually have no problem. It’s only a couple of hundred yards away! But I felt scared to be outside by myself. As we walked through the narrow streets between the buildings and onto the main road I still felt anxious and I was very ungrounded. I felt disconnected to the land and it felt extremely uncomfortable. The last time I had felt like this was on my last trip to the UK, last October. When I am ‘anchored’ somewhere, energetically I feel like I am living in the physical reality of that place, but when I am ‘in between’, anchored in one country but travelling in another, I feel disconnected. It feels like I am in a bubble and floating in that place as opposed to being rooted in it. My ‘anchor’ is imbedded in the energy layers of where I live. It keeps me there.

But walking around to my friend’s house I was feeling the same, except that I had not ‘pulled up’ my anchor, as usually happens when I am leaving a place for a long time. And yet I was feeling unanchored and my consciousness was a level up in consciousness. This is often the level of creation before it is manifested on the physical plane. But it took me until I was writing this to remember that!!!

Servant of the Nothing.

Servant of the Nothing.

As we walked to the coffee shop I tried to explain to her what I was feeling and it made me think of The Nothing, in The Never-Ending Story. The Nothing is utter despair, human apathy and the death of one’s dreams. It eats away at the world, leaving it as a hopeless, empty void. “It is the emptiness of what is left, it’s the despair which destroys the world. People who have no hope are easy to control, and whoever has the control, has the power.”

I was still feeling on edge, and not a little jumpy, which is most unlike me. I usually take everything in my stride, but this was different. I had no control over my feelings of edginess and fear. When we heard sirens, saw flashing lights and two police vans, filled with police men, passing us on the road I felt like I was in a war-zone. And yet I was the only one aware of it!  Everyone else was out doing what they always do. It felt surreal.

We got to the coffee shop and chatted for a bit but I was just not on the planet. After a little while Omar returned from Luxor and had a coffee with us. I spoke about what I was experiencing. It was as though I was looking at the present through the lens of the future, a dark future. The coffee shop was filled with men and boys smoking their shisha, playing dominoes and backgammon, or watching movies on the wide-screen TV. Everything was ‘normal’, but to my eyes they were unaware of what was to come. It was as though they were living a reality which would soon be immersed in death and fear, but they were oblivious of it. It was a horrible feeling and I kept feeling waves of grief and fear, and every time I heard a big noise from a truck, or lorry, on the main street across the canal I felt on edge, waiting for something terrible to happen. I knew that none of these people would be here playing their games, smoking and drinking coffee in the near future because there was a great darkness coming and many would not survive it.

Sinking in hopelessness

Sinking in hopelessness

Once I had told Omar of my feelings they dissipated somewhat and when we were finished with our coffess we walked home. When we got into our house, through the back gate we found that Omar’s brother had a terrible stomach ache, behind his navel! So had his daughter Aya!  11 year old Aya is the one who is the ‘Oldest’ soul of these children. She is the ‘teacher’ and is strong but energetically sensitive. Her father is attuned to Reiki and Gaia Method level 1 and is very susceptible to anxiety. So I wasn’t surprised to hear that they were struggling with all these energies. They are painful to deal with.

Today I am feeling exhausted, and keep feeling huge waves of grief. I know ‘upstairs’ (My guides and the Elders) have been telling me for the past year that the only people that would survive this coming time would be the people who owned land and who grow their own food. The ‘darkness’ would be about money, brought about by the growing violence and aggression here.  It won’t be a safe place for long and this period will last for at least another five years. It’s not going to be an easy time, but hopefully, something better will come out of it and Egypt’s feet will be set on a new path of development at last! We can only hope.

The Journey Begins by Cameron Gray.

The Journey Begins by Cameron Gray.

 Many people have done energy-work here over the past years so this is helping Egypt, and the Middle East to reconnect to the Mother consciousness. It has been a long time coming.  Healing can bring a dark experience before the light is born, but it will be born and Egypt’s rebirth will bring blessings to the entire region. Of that I have no doubt!

Picture Credits.

Anchor: Ayal Oren.


The Journey begins:


My School Career Counselor or How to change your future in one easy (?) lesson!

I’m ill in bed reading Dave Eggers’ “A heartbreaking Work of staggering Genius”. Right now he is in a bar, having left his 9 year old brother with a male babysitter. He is having a conversation with an old school friend who mentions that he has just seen a ‘Job Counselor’.  I am instantly transported back to my old school and the  Job Counselor we had there. Then I remember an incident I had with her over a job placement in our ‘Transitional Year’.

I went to a school in Blackrock, Dublin, called Newpark Comprehensive.  It was part of an originally private,  Protestant school called “Avoca and Kingstown” where I had originally attended Middle School.

Graiguenamanagh Bridge and Brandon Hill.

Graiguenamanagh Bridge and Brandon Hill.

We had just moved from Graiguenamanagh, Co. Kilkenny, to Dublin, after the separation of my parents and my father, being an atheist, chose this school. I had been educated in a convent prior to this. I imagine he wanted us to have the best education in a non-traditional, and non-religious setting.  And what better way to assert his independence from his very Catholic parents than to send us to a Protestant school!

Avoca School in the 1960's.

Avoca School in the 1960’s.

That lovely red-brick building above was our middle school. It was founded in 1891 and merged with Kingstown Grammar school in 1968, four years before I went there.  The original heads of the school developed innovative teaching programs and introduced sex education and nature study. I can vividly remember the nature study but cannot remember the Sex education until we were in Newpark!  The school became a centre of Educational innovation.

I can remember, at the age of nearly twelve, sitting in our classroom at the front of the building, behind one of those lovely bay windows in the above photo. The very modern building of Newpark had just been built in front of the old building, on its lovely gardens. It was a horrible, one-story building, completely out of character with the lovely red-brick building which it faced. One of the entrances was right in front of my window and I saw a young man come out and stand in front of the door. He was dressed in a tweed suit and was probably about 16 or 17. Its hard to judge when you’re twelve! He took a pipe out of his pocket and lit it and stood there, calmly smoking. I was amazed that a student should be allowed to smoke, in school!  But that pretty much summed up the School for me. It was all about freedom, freedom of expression, of development.

When I was twelve I moved to Spain for two years with my mother and two of my sisters. We went to a Spanish Catholic school on the outskirts of Torremolinos for a year and then to a modern school up in the woods behind the old village of El Calvario. I think I probably attended for at least two weeks. Sorry Mum!

Back in the Day. Playamar, Torremolinos.

Back in the Day. Playamar, Torremolinos.

When the two years were finished we moved back to Dublin and went back to Newpark, but this time I was so far behind, educationally, that I had to go down a year. All of the friends I had been in school with in Avoca were now a year ahead of me so I had to start all over again.

Fourth Year in Newpark meant Transition year where you learned about life outside school! i.e. WORK. TAXES etc. Terrifying stuff! As part of this experience we had to choose three work placements to try out jobs we might like to do in the future. For my first one I chose a bookshop in Dublin, as I loved books. That was OK but all I spent the week doing was adding books to shelves. I was more interested in reading the books than stacking them!

The next job placement was in Pelican House, the blood transfusion service. I had always wanted to be a surgeon when I was a child so this might give me an idea of how it might be in reality! This is where our Job/Career counselor came in! My friend Sarah and I had chosen to do this placement together and we were instructed, by our career counselor, not to spend the week filing, which is how Pelican House had gotten most of its filing done in the past, by using students in Transition year. She told us that we were to get a much experience as possible in all departmental within the service. No problem, we thought!

Pelican House.

Pelican House.

We planned well together for this placement. By this we mean that we plaited our hair in tiny plaits so that in the morning it would look frizzy! (I had very long hair!) We chose our headwear, in my case a baseball cap and in Sarah’s a black Trilby! I don’t remember what we wore, as clothes were never very important to me, but I’m pretty sure it involved jeans and shirts! It was the 70’s and the era of Grand-daddy shirts. All in all the perfect ensemble for working in the adult world of a blood transfusion service!

For the first two days we spent our time doing…?  Yep…filing! Halfway through the second day we were asked how we liked the job so far so I said exactly what my Career counselor had said to us, albeit a little more politely, I thought! I said that the school had told us that we were not to do filing all week  but were to experience as much as we could about all aspects of the work. The woman disappeared and we continued filing!

The following morning we got into work and were there for an hour before the same woman appeared and told us that we were to return to school at once! What? We got our stuff together and got a bus into Blackrock. All the way to school we tried to figure out why we were being called back. Had someone died? My younger sister had died the previous year so anything was possible! Had someone in Sarah’s family died? Had an accident? All the way we panicked and conjectured. Drove ourselves nuts!

Once we arrived in school we raced to the Career advisors room but she was waiting out in the main corridor. I walked quickly up to her. “What’s happened? What’s wrong? Why did you bring us back?” She stared at me, angry. “Do not be so rude Ann Murphy”. I was shocked. I wasn’t being rude. I was scared! I did not understand what was going on. We just stood there, speechless. She continued ” I received a call from Pelican house this morning. They told me that you refused to do filing!!!” Refused?? CONfused! “You have completely embarrassed the school and Pelicon house are considering dropping us from the Transition year placement program”

Hang on a minute, I thought. I did exactly what you said to do! “But you told us that we were not to do filing and that was all we were doing.” I responded. Her answer was to deny saying it in quite that way and that the woman had said I was extremely rude and that if we wished to continue our placement there we would have to go back in and apologize to the Director! I was flabbergasted. Apologize? For what? Telling the truth? Doing what we were told?

But she wasn’t finished. “And on top of that you wore clothes totally inappropriate to the job.” OK, that we did! There was no denying that! But apologizing to the director? To say we were shocked was an understatement! I was really angry but also nervous. Now we would have to return to Pelican house and look like idiots for following instructions by adults who should have dealt with it themselves. Why didn’t they organize the placement properly instead of leaving it up to us to do their communicating for them?

So the following morning I found myself on the bus into Dublin…alone…going to apologize to the bloody director!!! Sarah had managed to get out of it and had a ‘sick note’ so I had to face the humiliation by myself!! Thanks Sarah!

The end of that week proved quite interesting though and I got to experience how it was to work in a blood transfusion service! But these experiences taught me that the adult world could not be trusted and I wanted no part in its subterfuges and machinations! I was going to live in a commune, be self sufficient and make my own rules!!!

At least I knew what I was doing!

Four of my daughters and two granddaughters!!!

Four of my daughters and two granddaughters!!!

I have never left that experience and continue to this day to live outside of societies ‘norms. To me I might as well be dead as living a life like that where I cannot speak the truth for fear of upsetting other people’s apple carts. If you don’t want me to do something then don’t tell me to do it!  Simple! But I have learned to accept that other people do not necessarily tell the truth, that they are unable to. They can’t even see it! My daughters too have learned this from me and always call a spade a spade, even if it hurts, which it often does. But I appreciate that its their truth so even if I don’t like it, I accept it. After all..its what I taught them to do…

Oh…and if you have actually read the whole blog without getting bored  and are interested to know what my third and final placement was…it was harvesting sweetcorn for my father. One penny per cob and all we could eat! Pretty good really! Until I had to spend my Christmas Holidays in hospital being treated for lumbago, the result of pulling large plastic boxes filled with corn on the cob, by a rope, through row after row of maize stalks! The upside of that? I learned how to weave and make basket chairs as part of my recreational therapy!

Who needs school?

What Have They Done with Mother?

On doing my usual morning routine of checking out the latest news on-line I found this article: http://www.catholicherald.co.uk/news/2012/05/23/bishop-urges-priests-to-drop-the-hail-mary-from-masses/

Mary grotto from the 1950’s. Fourmilewater, Co. Waterford.By Ms. Jen.

Having been brought up as a Catholic and educated by Nuns I was immersed in the religion and one of the most important facets of our worship was Mary, Mother of Jesus. She is everywhere in Ireland. Every town and village has a grotto for her. She is Mother of Ireland. In later years, when I began to develop as an Earth Healer, healing the fracture in the collective unconscious around the Divine Feminine, I began to understand more about how the Mother was both revered and diminished in the Catholic religion.

Loughrea, Co. Galway. (Oninstagram)

In 2002 I attended a workshop which was the final part of a process which had taken me to Egypt the previous year and which changed my life completely. During this workshop, in Glastonbury, I met a woman from Australia (land of my birth) and we attended a Catholic healing mass. Everyone else did the Goddess-thing, it was the Summer Solstice, but we wanted to experience a Catholic healing mass.

While I watched the Eucharist being blessed during the mass I was struck by how Ancient Egyptian it all looked and felt. The priest looked like an Egyptian priest, dressed in his robes and the offering of bread and wine, traditional offerings to the Gods in Roman times but beer was used before they arrived.  In rituals to the God Amun in Karnak,  bread, cake and beer were offered in a ritual to the God every morning. The god lived in a shrine before which the ritual was carried out.


This is like the tabernacle in the alter where the wine and communion wafer were traditionally kept during the Catholic mass of my youth! I remember the priest standing in front of the altar, facing it with his back to us. At a certain point in the ritual he would open up the golden tabernacle doors, pull back the little red curtains/veil and take out the gold chalice containing the wine and the little gold platter on which lay the priests communion wafer. The communion chalice lay directly beneath it. (The definition of ‘Tabernacle’ is an enclosed space where God’s presence lives!!! An idea first brought out of Egypt by Moses!) 

The Tabernacle in the Altar. God’s dwelling place!

He would carry out this part of the ritual with his back still to us. He blessed the wine and communion, raising the chalice to the altar/God and ate his larger wafer in silence and drank his own portion of the wine. Then he would turn to us, the faithful and we had to file up to the altar where we were then given the Body of Christ in the form of a communion wafer.

‘Old mass’ now trying to be ‘resurrected’.

There is very little difference in this ritual to the Ancient rituals in Karnak, Luxor!!!  Only in modern times has it changed where it has become more simple and last supper-ish where the public are now more included in the ritual and there is no more altar!

Modern mass.

But what struck me the most from watching this healing mass ritual was the energy! As a healer I can ‘see’ energy and feel it. As the ritual progressed I could ‘see’ the energy charging the wine, like a vortex descending into the fluid. I hadn’t been to a mass in years so this all came a surprise to me. BUT there was NO energy going into the communion wafer! I couldn’t figure out why not! AND the only person to drink this charged wine was the priest himself!!!

Years later. attending a memorial mass in Ireland for my ex-partner who had died in the US, again I witnessed the same thing happening. A vortex of energy entering the wine but not the bread. We got the the bread/communion and the priest drank the wine.  What was also interesting was the size of the vortex itself. Like all channels for energy each person is able to channel the amount of energy directly related to his development. The bigger the channel developed through devotion and service the larger amount of energy that can be channelled into the physical world. This priest obviously had an ability to channel larger amounts of energy as the vortex of energy, which looks like a small white tornado, that he channelled was quite large.

My third experience in Ireland, during a funeral mass for my aunt Terry, who was a very religious and loving woman, confirmed this again. The wine was charged with energy but ‘zip’ went into the bread! We, the public, were not given the wine, although this time both the priest and his helpers received it. His helpers were the ones who now served the communion wafers to the public, where before it was the priest who carried out this part of the ritual. As in the energy healing world, in order to pass on an energy transmission you have to be ‘charged’ yourself, so they were drinking the charged wine!

Passing out the communion wafers, US-style.

The public received none of the benefits of this spiritual energy…at all! It was only during a later trip to Wales and while doing energy-work at the ruined St. Dogmaels’ abbey in Wales that I finally understood what was happening…and what had been lost! St. Dogmaels lies beside the River Teifi and was built in 1120. It was built on the site of an even older church called the Church of Llandudoch.

St. Dogmael’s Abbey, Wales.

In the ruins of this church is a crypt which is no longer roofed and is still accessible. It lies beneath where the altar would have once stood. When I was down in this crypt I felt a very strange slow-moving vortex of energy. When I tuned into it I ‘saw’ that it was a vortex of earth energy associated with the Mother, the female energy of the earth. (There are both male and female energies of the earth). As I experienced this energy I could see the priest on the upper floor standing in front of the altar which once stood there, a basic stone table, and he was doing the mass ritual. However, what was fascinating was that as he charged the bread he did so over this active vortex of female energy and this energy charged the bread, from below!!! When he was charging the wine the vortex of energy came from above, as I have always seen it do.  Then I was given the understanding of the Catholic ‘Father, Son and Holy Ghost’! The father is the upper/Solar energy and the Holy Ghost should be the Earth/Female energy. The ‘Son/Daughter’ is the medium between the two. The son/daughter is the one capable of channelling both masculine and feminine energies into the physical world so that all could partake of it! He stood in the Middle, the unifier of the two worlds. This was the mystery of the Trinity, the three energies in one person! God the Father, Earth the Mother and the soul of man/Woman. “Honour thy Father and thy Mother”. God wasn’t just talking about your parents!!!

This charging of the bread is an ancient fertility ritual done way back in the time of the Goddess Artemis and by our ancestors in Britain and in Ireland. Read about it in another adventure in time on my older blog!!!


So when did they get rid of the Poor Mother? And why are the Catholic bishops trying to oust her again??? Nothing but complete control will suffice obviously! We are still living with the priests of Amun! When will it ever change?