Saturday, February 14, 2009

The Quest of Sir Valentine: The Real Origin of Valentine’s Day

The Quest of Sir Valentine: The Real Origin of Valentine’s Day

Many times come and many go, but, the time that presents as very now seems the only one to matter then. So it was for Sir Valentine as he wandered the countryside, actually, scoured would be more apt. You see, Sir Valentine was seeking that one lady whose love he was sure motivated him to wake each day, caused him to be that annoying do-gooder neighbor and stranger that so many detested, made him think of strange thoughts to those around him about the fabrication of the world, about why trees talked and no one seemed to listen, about why the animals were constantly whispering in voices others seemed not to hear, but most importantly, about her, who as far as anyone could see did not exist at all! Mostly, others thought him odd, strange, weird, “funny,” or even schizophrenic, and so eventually, Sir Valentine became isolated and reclusive in order to avoid the hot flames of disapproval worn so openly on their judgmental sleeves.

But, this did not depress him, for the extra time allowed him to concentrate on his future Lady Valentine allthemore. And, so he did, as you could imagine, being mostly alone and left to his own thoughts and imagination. As Sir Valentine thought, imagined, and conjured her forth from the mist of his own very active imagination, she gradually took form, like clouds becoming a goddess of pure beauty, which clouds, it turns out would follow him from time to time, especially when he was with her in poignantly palpable imaginings and fantasies. Finally, he could see the beginnings of a form of the great Lady Valentine, this after writing love poetry for decades about her and never seeing her, only moved forward in his love of her that he knew existed somehow.

Future poets and artists would see in Sir Valentine a religious faith in his unknown Lady Valentine. Future psychoanalysts would say, knowingly, at this very point of the story that he was delusional, succumbing to his fantasies turning into phantasies, and that he was facing a serious psychological fracture in falling in love with his own anima. What all these future folks mentioned and unmentioned failed to realize was that their thoughts passed directly into Sir Valentine’s head as he thought and imagined each day, mostly about Lady Valentine. The negative thoughts Sir Valentine discarded as that part of him that was unwilling to move forward, just as his wise father had taught him. The positive thoughts Sir Valentine accepted as encouragement to continue and fed off them like horses eating hallelujah hay.

It was while eating some of his miraculous manna one day, that Sir Valentine actually had a vision that informed him of what to do, as it pertains to Lady Valentine and finding her. He had been riding the countryside, well, again, scouring it, like a brillo champion, when he decided to rest underneath his favorite mammoth old tree. His father had taken him out as a youth and advised him to find a tree that spoke to him, and in ways that he felt deeply. They rode and walked for miles and miles, miles and miles, until finally a very large, nay gigantic, tree spoke so clearly and loudly to him that he nearly fell off his horse.

It was to this very same tree that he rode quite often, to sit underneath her, on her roots, to listen to her stories, and sometimes she to listen to his, and to cry his woes as she listened soothingly; this very same tree he rode to that fateful day. No one can say if it was the tree that revealed the vision of her heavenly heart, or whether it was the clouds above that parted and sunrays entered through the top of his head, and frankly, not many cared then, but, somehow, after decades of wandering, Sir Valentine finally knew what she looked like, what she felt like, and that he would be with her. After profusely thanking the tree, the clouds, the sky, and everything that might have contributed to this momentous gift, he leapt upon his horse and galloped off toward home to prepare. He was so excited and thrilled that he nearly washed the dust off his horse’s back as he rode about the hillsides and under the canopy of the trees and sky, in what appeared to be a meandering and routeless route, but which picturesque path returned him home in high spirits.

Whereupon, he began planting the rose bushes of rainbow colors all across that gorgeous landscape he knew and loved like the wrinkles in his skin. Despite the fact that the vision mentioned roses, with Sir Valentine’s very active imagination, he just knew that Lady Valentine would appreciate more than the fantastic fragrance of roses, for their thorns can make quite the impasse, and thus he planted a variety of flowers, trees, flowering bushes, and even ferns so that she would feel this place to be as magical as he had always known it to be, and also then find her way attracted to it long enough to stay so that he might find her one day. So, he planted and planted, and then one day while the local people, as well as people from far away, had heard of this noble gent’s earnest efforts to create a paradise for his Lady Valentine to enjoy a blooming flower every day of the year, the people gradually began to visit her sanctuary. When visiting, many were struck by the reverence of the place, feeling as if somehow the place itself were imbued with energy, but nothing negative or deserving of a hanging, stoning, drowning, or burning, rather, something to be emulated. Perhaps it was during these visits that many people began to open their eyes, and gaze upon their surroundings with heightened awareness and to see that even their places had some of this energy. Whatever the case, future philosophers were sure that this was the decisive moment in history that the notion of land and landscapes having soul was born.

Nonetheless and allthemore, one thing was certain, the people were changing, and in numerous ways. You see, love was actually blooming, her fragrance was filling the neighborhoods as more and more people planted roses and all manner of beautiful flowers, bushes and trees, and, as they did so, they became more connected to the very undersurface of what they often trampled upon with unknowing and uncaring feet; they became more interrelated with each other; they became more interconnected with the entirety. As love bloomed further, and as Sir Valentine’s gardens grew in scope and majesty, the people themselves began to believe that they had seen the Lady Valentine, or that surely she would come tomorrow, and eventually, many of them knew she would come on this particular day.

Thus, the people came out in droves on that day, cutting flowers on the way, holding hands here, arms around each other there, and kissing everywhere: the very nature of love seemed destined to stay. Sir Valentine had also known she would come that day, and so he washed himself thoroughly, anointing himself with myrrh, cedar, and juniper berry oils. What he did not know would surely make him leap for joy. As he neared the gardens, riding carefully through swaths of pilgrims, first one handed him a gorgeous bouquet of rare flowers not even found in his gardens, then another handed him a parchment extolling her charms, and when another handed Sir Valentine some homemade chocolates, he knew what a perfect meeting this would be.

The appointed time came, for even the hour was foretold, and thousands of people had gathered around that very same ancient tree Sir Valentine had so often received comfort from, cried under, and under which he imagined the Lady Valentine arriving, and the people parted as only a wave does when special divining poles are used, to allow Sir Valentine to reach the open circle underneath the tree. Of course the tree had a name, it had revealed this to Sir Valentine before he was a Sir, advising him to only tell others when the time was right. And so, he had long held this secret, wondering if ever such a time would come. He knew in an instant, that that time was now. He also knew it was time to address the people gathered round, to thank them for not trampling the gardens underfoot, to thank them for sharing his belief that she would come today, and for all of the many gifts they had given to she and him, so that their day might be wonderful. So he did. Upon finishing his discourse, after which people applauded and cheered, some snapping their fingers in approval, others gently tapping the backs of their hands, and some whistling loudly, all the sudden, in an instant, the tree seemed to vanish.

Perhaps not vanish, as much as part, for thereupon from out of the trunk of Valentius stepped the most radiant and glowing lady anyone could ever recall seeing or hearing of. In fact, most of the people thought her a goddess and as if another wave parted, they bowed in waves that rippled across the gardens. Only Sir Valentine was left standing, in front of the shimmering and lustrous Lady Valentine. Then, what happened next none can agree upon, not even those people in the crowd that day, for all saw it differently. Some saw the Lady bow to the Sir, while others saw the Sir bow to the Lady, and others saw him fumble to give her the gifts he was carrying behind his back, whereas others saw them embrace with such passion and love as to kindle the fires of the core and birth a volcano. Many other versions surfaced and continue to surface, as Sirs and Ladys celebrate their love throughout the millennia. The best thing that happened that day, which most people who did stay there concur, was the way in which the Lady and the Sir Valentine celebrated their love openly and warmly shared it with others. The gifts they were given in honor of this momentous occasion were returned in full by the love they shared with all.

Many times continue to come and many to go, as they ever will, like the rhythms of the beach that match the marching of the mountains and the loping of the forests, but, the time that presents as very now will always seem the only one to matter then. So it was for Sir Valentine and Lady Valentine as they wandered the gardens together in bliss and happiness. You see, though some called him foolish, Sir Valentine never deterred from seeking that one lady whose love he was sure woke him each day, had him doing good, and thinking oddly about the world, about talking trees, about whispering animals, and most importantly, about her, who would one day exist indeed!

May you find that love, rekindle the one you found, and ever remember Sir and Lady Valentine and Valentius the magnificent Tree of Love!

Wednesday, April 23, 2008

Unconscious Love

I glimpse you peripherally and I yearn to hold you, to crush you nearer.
I espy you across the courtyard, amidst the falling leaves;
resplendently dressed in their last hurrah—your beauty outshines them.
I see you in the vanity mirror, but as I turn, your image flutters and fades;
slithering through my perception to the next past or future, never dallying in the present.
I'm taken aback as your face speaks to me
from the rippling surface of nearest neighbor's man-made pond,
prophesying events yet to come; my mind spins and you stay still, calming me.
I sense your presence as you tenderly brush my hair,
softly caressing nape of neck, shoulders, small of back.

My eyes roam carefully over your scantily clad body as we dive into the river;
foreseeing foretold events—experiencing our unions, separations, and communions simultaneously, arriving at a tumultuous explosion.
Fusing ourselves and our souls, melting into that cesspool of minds…
Losing ourselves, our souls, finding, loving, knowingly we choose to complete the cycle again;
to find each other once more as: man, woman, cat, bird, or fish—
realizing the bond.

I see your soul in adored flowers.
I hear your voice in racing breezes through laurel.
I smell your sweet scent in burning incense.
I feel your hot breath upon my neck as I walk in the sand.
I understand that which you have prophesied.
I love you in your absence.
I possess you in the mirrors in my closet, upon my walls.
I hold you close as storms crash onward.
I pull you tighter when it seems I've lost my nerve.

You are that which has no name.
You've been termed love by some—yet I see no semblance in you.
You demand my attention lovingly nonetheless and I succumb,
for this bliss can't be measured against mere wisdom.

Feel me surrender as you envelop me further; ohhh more,
if only we could...


What is not how or why or when or even where
What finds itself distinctly separate
from the above more temporalities and moralities,
as attempting to define some element
of truth in beingness in quality
in order to describe
the is-ness
of this particular

Weaving Becomingness

Clotho once wove a weave so fine,
so exquisite,
its rainbowed hues left none
witnessing it without tears.

The fabric entwined
that thus clothed
the heroes who donned it
throughout the eons,
protected them from harm
and allowed them access
to the most private of seclusions,
the most secreted mazes,
the deepest cavernistic halls,
the highest mountainous peaks;
on the bottomest of ocean floors
they ambled slowly;
on the thinnest of clouds
they tread with surety.

Do you wear the rainbow robe
that makes of nine heads
a simple stoney sculpture?

Do you wield the power
interlinked with donning such responsibility?

Wearing and wielding such power
wends its way beyond
one’s blood fueling movement
and into innovative inaugurations:
life becomes
and constantly becomingness
rather than is
or simply being…

Watery Creature

Changing skin for clothes
and rending teeth for toothy smiles
a wedding soon ensues to treasure.
Skin secreted in hidden chest awhiles
where hearts beat much less
but whose pounding for fear of founding
leave detectable scents nonetheless
eventually find their winding way bestows
a replacing of haranguing clothes.
Children? Home? Husband? Culture?
All is shed for free watery pleasure…

Sown Words Drown Swords

Moving through reeds on the edges of each cool pool
what was carrion has risen anew with mewl
The leaved poetry on trees viewed as a macule
speaks passion only sweetly wafting past the fool
who instead of hearing all sees but majuscule

Brief Exegesis
The above word play is not addressed to anyone in particular, but to those who cannot hear the plain poetry of nature plied on the leaves of the trees, for all they can see instead are the $, which in this case represent the majuscule, and therefore everything else is blurry text (macule, as in mackle, not the macula lutea). So, despite the fact that they may have experienced a near-death potential life-changing event (at the will of Artemis in the cool pool, or Pan among the reeds that are Syrinx), and as walking carrion arisen they make weak whimpers (mewl), they yet remain fools when they cannot or refuse to listen to nature.

Soul Companion Whole Reunion

In the finding of the souls
A mixture of love and remembrance overwhelms

It is the strangeness of being one
Before one knows the other
Before one sees the other
But as one has been with the other

It is a reunion

Give me that new love
Beyond the old paradigms
The old ghosts of today through the past
Wherein people get lost
In the way it should be and not feeling what is….

This is not as we are….

Whirlwind of embraces
Sounds traverse woods of lost loves
Leaves speaking languages hidden
In caves of learning
In wombs of memories
Crafting what we shared and know
What felt itself before we lived again
In the midst of echoing traces

We elevate over instances
What once grasped and held
Holding us without warmth
We gave into all…transforming energies

They flowed through warming us
They became us
And in that instant we saw self, I, me, we and ourselves as one….

This new mythology arises into a semblance
Of revelation not borne of redemption
Or any other archaic notion

Where doth the information come from
Doth it channel forth from voids in Chaos
Doth it channel forth from unspaces in Gaia
Doth it channel forth from unlight in darkness
Doth it channel forth from undark in lightness
Wherefrom matters little as whatwith and wherewithal matter

Smatterings of this and thou resonate
Into summer reverie of dismemberment
It is the knowledge of the integration of death
And of life that enters psyche and soul
Herein is import for reform

Riding mutual energies into oblivion
We scream streaming sweet release

For we know the known and the unknown
We’ve known what we thought and what we unthought

Where did the losses go?
Where did the chances go?

If we find nothing other than us
We have found the changes that make a world!

Seeking Fresh Searching True

Seeking, ever seeking, who is this searcher I sometimes call me?
Is this searcher more aptly called myself?
Or perhaps the searcher would prefer self?
What if the searcher should see its way to Self?
Other times, this searcher definitely seems like I;
And, still, at moments most quiet, the searcher is all of the above at once
And, none of the above,
But, rather, much like the seeker, ever seeker,
Whose goal is not rest,
Whose goal is no goal,
Yet, whose aims continually move further inward
Further outward to interiority and exteriority
Of unknowabilities and unthinkabilities…
Thus, the searcher and the seeker wed
Realize there is no ultimate finding of any of the faces above,
Only momentary moments of recognition,
Of which each moment thereafter proves unrecognizable
The face that once presented.
And what of perennial questions of suppositions of oppositions?
What of any of these polar pairings do we attribute to whatever of our faces—
Ourselves thus appearing momentarily to be begrudgingly labeled such—
In whicheven moments, we make of ourselves as completely taken over by it,
Should we allow such to occur we are possessed,
And in the possession of archetypal forces and energies
We are no longer just that face that presented, we are myriads of faces
To be better represented as ourselves as a rainbow of faces in one
Ever shifting, ever moving, ever giving landscapes beauteous colors
Landscapes of humanity and of places, and so on…
What then of these pairings comprises or nourishes our roots—
We now being akin to kin of world trees, to brethren and sastren strong
Trees standing tall and wide with deep and long roots—
Is what we perceive, is what we rememory, is what we think,
Is what we act, is what we see, is what we speak, is what we hear, is what we feel,
Is what we imagine, is what we fantasize, is what we intuit, is what we create,
So that what we do makes of us what we are…
Questioning what forms our roots nourishes and strengthens our trees,
But obsessing on one or another, especially the inherently toxic samples,
And wondering if these be within the fibrousness of the roots
Requires energy from the tree be redirected in order to heal the psychic wounds
Such wondering entails: to stem the sap from oozing outward into the ground.
Rarely does anything or anyone truly trick all of us
Except for if we dive into faith without its just due
So, let us look deeply, feel fully, sense surely, and intuit openly
And in so doing worry not over trickery, masks, guile-filled breezes and false windows…
Thereby, we can instead see over that hill and into that vale
The sunsets and sunrises, the forests slowly marching
The mountains breathing and growing to slowly sink again
The very land exhaling and inhaling to meet and depart is not heresy

Soothsaying Necromancer

Seeing shades of death wash over, all around are touched by its dank feathers
Rancid, the smell of rotting death, swooners'd sooner fair better than be necromancer;
Yet none there is who has escaped this fiend called death whom some refer to as friend.
Bitterer the war that hope loses glimmer, graces chase the strayed shimmer,
Seeking always to keeping that radiance nearer, not even creaking, to allow the steeping gradient
To wear dictator's clothes, or those of emperor, for though hope hastens close,
Never does death run scared from, leaving some intended freed forever.

Aye that I were the necromancer, the living, walking necromancer, the walker and talker
Among the dead, but also communing with the living: if I were the necromancer
Those who've passed and those to pass and those passing would all find a bridge;
One worth crossing over, under or above, spanning both sky and earth,
And connecting heaven and hell for all to be as it is meant to be,
Connected and interconnected, not disconnected.

Could it be that the shades of death were every rainbow ever colored,
Every cloud ever floated, every rain ever rained, every sunray ever shined;
Could it be that all those colors, shapes, sensations and lights would uncover
Realities of life, answers about life or reasons for life, a proverbial gold-filled pot,
Pandora's miseries rebuked to let the jar-stifled hope out in bright sunspots;
Then it'd be we'd all rejoice, as ailments and suffering vanished.

Aye, here in this light, in this midnight irradiance, in this luminescence,
Moon drenching the subterraneanic nightscape—
Here is a space akin to that peace place,
That place of calm where love infuses,
Where the light is the love and the love is all of life—
There, beneath a golden, hovering, harvest moon,
Shall the transformation unveil another prophet hero
Aspiring not for platitudes, meek and full of gratitude
For station and chance, predicting futures only the dead know.

Excerpted from I'M DEAD—Osiris

The cadaver horizon is a mountainscape
that spreads from my eyebrows across the world
spanning outward evermore,
for death is everpresent within everpresent life,
and so it is not purely chaotic
to see in my death the death of all
and within that all
a nothingness some would call a void,
but which upon closer inspection reveals but another me dreaming it,
the dream and me…
life within the cadaver is the promise blossom
awaiting blown seedlings to scuttle across the desert
of a once rain forest
under the glacial ice’s memory of millennia,
is a world tree,
a stately scented sycamore…
If plants waited to expand because another glacier were coming,
then all would be desert or ice.
Nonetheless, we are all a carnival dressed for funerals
and upon our pyres we dance
the macabre cadaver dance
regardless of peregrination
chosen as a soul before entrance to the dance,
despite our willingness to unwillingness
to comprehend the choices now,
we yet journey.
Dying each day,
stinking and rotting,
and living each day,
fragrantly renewing,
leaving stenches intermixed with aromas of beauteous sorts.
No poem is a poem as self identified,
or self unidentified,
for in its own recognition or dismissal
does it fail as such or its antithesis.
So, call this nothing, but read it deeply…
And, what of a life pretending to be dead then?
Does death pretend and feign so readily life?
Is a wound but death making light of life?
Wounds heal and reopen,
countless times in a moment,
scarring providing us skin
and tissue
memories to jolt physicality back into psychology,
as if we need to recall and cannot without their assistance.
A wound in unthought fields of chaos reels
over black flowers
dotting ever-steeper valleys and ever-lower hills,
bleeding black flowers with heady stenchy odors
wafting warily nearer and further
from until surrounding all Osiris
reborn from Isis’ chaotic womb…
the glacier but a memory
of her moonlight fading
in the unconsciousness
of Osiris’ dead memories.
The memory returns,
now a rememory:
Osiris is the sycamore,
is the plants reborn out of a desert or tundrascape,
is the sun born from the moon each day,
is the cadaver horizon,
is the life carnival,
is all of life and death
one arising out of the other…

Fanciful Imaginings…

In the beginning of light within the dark and dryness in the moisture,
Four cougars craved solace and while crouching on lily pads
They suddenly were transformed into lotuses,
Which many deities and their devotees noticed.

Millennia later, they found themselves reified in cults as a posture,
Which spread over tropical zones and became fads
They realized then that they were the only ones
Who knew what lotuses really were…

And, accordingly, they sent a message to some
And me who seemed to not hear
And continued instead to reify lotuses,
Until one day a radiant lotus dared speech practice…

I heard a soliloquy seductively whispered from a Goddess.
She was not a cougar, and so I wondered…
A roar sounded primordial colors into existence
And the space that wound in that place fondled
A creature into a plant again and I witnessed happenstance.

‘Tree, come to me,’ She whispers…
Whoever heard absurder a perjure of sanity?
In the shadows, I observe, goosebumps and chills—the profanity!
Wheneven shelters wrestle and perspire…

Wait. A Shadow stretches to reach my heart.
And a heartbeat pumps of energy brainwaves impart.
How shadow reaches thought reveals to inspire
The telling of “whenever stories” of diverse characters,
Even trees’ slow Sahara sojourn provides witness!

No more do cougars and lotuses challenge
What once proved as truth for me for truth has no bearing
For in its telling doth truth become else
And when a goddess fills one spilling outward into all
What is shadow is light and all paradox seeming real…

Disassembled Beingness

Once upon a time there were three no we’ll make it four, little bits of time running a race that actually paralleled that of an anaconda digesting its large prey; a grizzly hibernating on a bighorn; a swan singing in sunlit daisies in white-butterfly-intermittent-clouds, and-quite-unpredictable, despite observing hours to days to weeks, which stretches forth wings of glory to rejoicingly introduce the prophetess from the west with no agenda or attachment to ideals: Isis!
What happens when three billion are expendable?
One sneezes…
It is that easy, as has been proven over millennia…
What happens when no amounts of billions will perpetuate anything?
Shivas eat everything and no rumbling sounds so deep…
What happens when a forest of ancients is timber?
In a week…
It is a rumbling deeper and more ancient than Changing Woman as she has been known in the present day.
Changing Woman of many moons ago found no solace in fields wider than two peaks could comfort.
Changing Woman saw continents, islands, galaxies, universes, and found the worthy ones here called alcreatamythos….
They seek whatever realms of revisioning have not yet seen the shapes of four such riveting minds.
Bowing dew splatters in diamondlike chatter
Crackling birch flirting with a pit
Crab apple blooms internal / external
It is…
Give me now this life I soon see no more…
Reassemble me, oh, Isis…
I, your husband who was tricked by horrid sibling rivalry, implore thee…
And, if you ask But, what is the fourth?, then you have not seen or read closely enough and so you must return and revisit the words, one by one, until you have been through the four again, and for some again and again….

From the Mouths of Babes

Infants speaking in ancient tongues heft the weft
Left bereft on the loom of arcane weavers
Leavers of the clothing of original ones
Wondrous fabrics of rainbowed hues
Humors would not allow done garments instants

From Within the Without of Yggdrasil the World Tree

Fondly hang thee witless nine nights
wee the dawn tickles the upmost boughs;
hang thee well and upside down;
see thee into inevitable breakdown;
see thee into the eye that e’er floats below;
read the meaded messages even though they flow;
read the runes as one does ingredients in low light;
as above ravens, eagles, and hawks aflight;
and below otters, coyotes, and monkeys excite;
see into, between and beyond;
myth is but what we find most fond,
but how we forge our strongest bonds.

Eating My Tail

Herein is the uroboric return
Move downward spiral within
Grooves etched echo the downturn
Begin improving after the tailspin

Horus Forgave Prometheus

Driving into an area where the sun drapes darkened benches when the moon’s lost its light to campfires when I learn-see again…
Underneath the sheen of the milky way herein fairies roam and dwell; for, they seek something similar strange…

Aged carvings tell pillared stories:
A birded flight of winged Isis
Mounts a spectre named phallus
Removed from Osiris whose twelve pieces reassembled
Nearly whole on cold unforgiving stoney slab
He somehow begets a sun
Rising on the horizon is Horus

I AM Horus!, says he.
A hore of us is part of us
and we move on into the we of us
Here we reside for most of the time between
But, she runs beyond the stars
On a sunlit wave step that I could not reach
not on the sunnestmost beach…

In disobeyance, I dream
Not out of will or a need to try
Rather out of the coursing energy surrounding
I see myself a thousand pieces strewn about
Every one of them tells a lie about the whole
My Promethean slumber sees on the mountaintop I’m dismembered
Though in nightly dreams I’m rightly remembered
Gusts blow beyond fire as images stir and twist
Ashes transform from the former alive.

Invigorating fire—I hear a sound past the inane
In the midst of what was once sparking fire
A lady’s cry answered by bufoonic antics
Related to putting out a fire—
What I see here is plentiful loving fire
Regardless the winds that treacherously overtake
Fire, rather that one could warm themselves over

And we build our fire with the logs that remain
Reveling in the warmth and light that is reborn
Out of Prometheus’ flesh and suffering
For us…

Breathing in and Breathing out Mythology

If ever you should by chance encounter some snakes copulating
lest like Tiresias androgyny you start advocating
seek not the counsel of even the wisest of deities
and instead breathing deeply into shallow vales
where rattles give their place seek the council of whales

When vision Hypnos visits—
whose thoughts implore us
a journey take in underconscious—
with amazing alacrity:
who sees with any clarity?

Speeding slowly past the holy gates
of Erebos what souls shine
that are solely stolen from the Fates
from the horrible knowledge that glances
like the burning sun, seek not chances

Leftovers from the fevered feast
blithering butts of swift-swine
prickled wrath of the Erynies:
suckling sows gift no kindness
itching sight into blindness

The herds of Hermes once pilfered from Apollo
are not always the most fortuitous guests
as razing fields and stampeding wolves suggests
though many forget and their elixir swallow,
habitually harried, haoma follows

A chariot rides a bit too close:
Phoebus flicking his wrist,
misses the red-burnt chorus
chanting as one: He sees us; He sees us!
as horses’ foam sprays and coats

Experience the heat of amour
without the distinct pleasure
feverous sweating amidst
Aphrodite’s displeasure
the choir is wondering What for?

Once, after smelling sweetest-Daphne-Artemis—
her fragrance wafting through branches assaults rank hounds—
I knew too late not to breathe deeply her essence
and though fortunately I knew not staghood
what wisdom stuffed me fully then words were not found!

Metamorphosing into a tree:
wondered I if the leaves would
wind their way into the wood,
therein transposing the once could be
from breathless flight to rememory…

Hearing not the admonishment of Hebe,
concerning more than fun, play and infancy
embarking on surrealist wax-filled fantasies
of fanciful flights following the free bee
sound diminishes now awfully slowly

Who it might be that astutely connects
astral feathery flight through the ionosphere
with this piercing dizzy knows the disconnects
when liquefying wax Icarus won’t fear
and neglecting father’s calls, falls, a killdeer

Naked vision of Poseidon’s fury—
seething foaming, salty spring deemed unworthy
after losing to Athena’s olive tree—
pronely shivering on a wave-crashed blustery
lonely island in the cursed cold wintry sea

When the fetus Athena grows
gestating pains of kicking slows
not, so soothing Zeus’ aches shows
naught but ignorance in shadows flees
disillusionment the captive pleas

Then, the instant the infant Athena’s born
the aches like bursting open turn to pains
of splitting apart and breaking asunder
as grey matter a’splatter from skull is torn
and anesthesia becomes empty thunder

But, let us not be timid in the telling
lest embodying Prometheus’ horrors
lungs in chest reeling, doubled up in his terrors
of unrelenting pinioning fast chains
and jagged beak tears we forget the swelling

Finding myself stuck in a pale loop
of repeated ritualistic romps with Ah-Shoo!-Hades
I now tire of the gray wracking group
for who desires to be smothered
or who spattered, grisly covered?

Instead of seeing formless shaded reflections
of myself in every shielded mirror
it is the mug of Medusa in my visions
whose turning visage feeds every terror
‘til seeing sees nothing but hallucinations

At darkest hours when Hephaestos works
and then on his anvil he pounds
oh, the panoply of quirks and jerks
as lumbering becomes wishes for reclining
and slumbering alters wishes from confining

Everyone enjoys festive feasting
until afterwards when they feel the effects
of Dionysus running his course of visiting
whereupon the notion of overindulging
loses its attraction owing to the bulging

Finally said, there once was a troupe
who never left the billowy tent
Bacchae one and all willowy rent
and though springing were the desire,
and back more, still danced they higher!

Monday, January 14, 2008

The FourFold of Poetics


I stood on top Everest and painted heaven amongst
not past, not beyond, and not within
the clouds, for I knew not many could find my heaven
since the tendency is to seek literal
to cultivate esoteric and ineffable
to convert others in hearing our tongues
it seemed wisest to place heaven therein

Who wants unknown others or worse yet known and detested others luxuriating in their personal heaven?

Next, I climbed deeper than Voronya Cave
into the earth’s womb
and fetally dreamt hell into the very molten core
where it would constantly stream and course
and thus in its fiery tomb
would entry to others’ pantheon stave

Would you want to find some uninvited devil or satan or underworld deity presiding over your hell?

After reconsidering my heaven and hell
I thought it best to also construct a place between
One which hanging upside down on windy trees
will not force me to any personages tell
One that some would consider pristine
and others ready themselves for expected fees

Would you believe me if I told you that when opening my eyes next did I continue to see exactly where I was before this construction?

From this place soar I unto others:
paradises and infernos alike
and wild places unlabeled and untrammeled
where forged hammers of crippled divine blacksmiths
furrow not the rocky veins of the conceiver’s
and civilized places that beelike
buzz in bustling hives of dissembled
whose awareness of wherein their own myths
they languor and live is annulled
by pursuits and action, insidiously boxlike
and wondrous places with warm mothers
whose arms spread wide, inviting and branchlike
whose unseen eyes open wide and seeing, bejeweled
whose wombs sing songs that vibrate megaliths
whose supple breasts all in need have suckled
whose trunk and jutting branches and roots husbandlike
drip honeyed ambrosia to the world’s aquifers

Who would want is admonished, herein such places shall know something only if in contemplative humility they seek, yet would you not?

Words, the soul emitters and transceivers;
images, the soul transducers and conceivers;
music, the soul transfusers and transformers;
movement, the soul freers and conductors;
evermore intermixing and interrelating
souls expressions perpetually sensating
intellecting, cultivating, fostering and creating:
our perceptions challenging and forming what is
inducing deep draughts of soulful wells to fizz

We who would then find our souls not only forming and reforming, but also creating and recreating, in a constancy that belies notions of static and solid stances and instead resembles the movements within the metaphors of the world tree…


Here is now alive and thriving, moving dance to bleed out pores
My soul sweats into the cool air and swims in hosts of raindrops
to pierce the veil that others label lifeless ground and therein to course
in Lethe’s swift currents that eventually feed the springs of bluebonnets
and there, under the cool shade of a bent tree, you drink deeply
of my soul, and your drinking is at once my drinking
for under another summitful tree I too drink of your soul
and in our mutual drinking do we know friendship
do we breathe and move friendship
do we write and craft friendship
into all spaces between, out, in

Who would advantages seek ought look elsewhere
for now have the absent gates been built and shut
the gates that bar entry to those unworthy
And who am I or anyone to label another
to cast judgment upon one deemed so?
We are the ones who have cared for the downtrodden
only to be trodden upon by them as the door slammed behind
their quick escape from responsibilities in the house of friendship
We are the ones whose seeking for deeper and increasing meaning
meets with those whose careless parlays and occasional forays
are dropped as soon as vehicles for acquisition of desired things
approach and make themselves known
We are the Artists whose lives demand scrutiny and reflection
and whose tormentation none others grasp
and whose thoughts fly unfettered in the interiority of imagination
in a feelingness of thinking and being that calls forth creation.

Who then would join us often does so for brief moments that soon pale
for encounters long talked about, laughed about later even
for the ununderstanding, for the inability to penetrate the veil
smothering their vision, which often only portrays allusion

And I am to stand here convicted by the masses
swallowing their ingratitude, bad will and ugly perceptions
so that what is considered law or societal constructions
becomes only a seething gaggle of vipers in tall grasses
to my memories whose fleetingness resembles passages
rapidly taken by the vapidly mistaken albatrosses!

Still, from within the deepest realms of my being surges waves
of harmonious melodies that form beautiful memories, scripts and representations
and despite the stunned incidences, these incredible waves
wash me clean from within, without and withal so that presentations
leave nothing other than a smile that is my being
in radiance and creativity abounding
the self that is of many parts is continually actualizing


Tomorrow miracles fly freely from my suitcase called skin;
they find flight from formless feelingsthoughts moving in my marrow,
where wings grow in emulation of fairies and angels dreamt;
they soar celestially, swimmingly submerge, pantomime pewter precipitation
and breathe crystals constructing water, snow, sunflower and mountain;
whereafter their creating inspires surreptitious songs sublimated
and then let loose upon strings, valves and chords,
to scrape bottom dwellers from their murky laments
and scooping them thusly to scatter them not on scraggy
spots, or scramble their psyches, but, rather to perch
them wherever they’d be most free and happy

How old is this process of miracles emanating from bones?

To answer is to know one’s morrow….

The prophetess chews some laurel and utters:
It is the oldest phenomenon known on earth,
miracles within the bones, and only outdated by miracles
within the bark, which is only outdated by miracles
within barnacles, and this, is only outdated by miracles
within basalt crust, and so forth…

Ah, you contradict yourself! trumpets the realist missing more than criticism yields…

Whose worn mantle warm composes us?

Everywhere come the metaphors:
step into the deep wild woods and stop,
still, very motionless, until you listen and stagger;
stags, deer, elk, or moose, their antlers make the dagger
which will when seen in its bareness be the stabber
deep into the heart of inside for the changeling
to be born from the stiffness of the taut muscle
whose stoppage, an aching dazed cramp, chagrining
dances a catharsis into a crazed comforting carousel;
dive endlessly into wordless emissions of soulful memoirs,
ply vicariously their meanings unto a cloudy blue morning dewdrop

When will nothingness become somethingness so that everythingness makes sense?

Cut short the unthought unthoughts so that they can more rapidly through sleeping’s gates enter into eventual thought thoughts.


At times, especially during dream-filled sleep or daydream occupied stupors,
what is fleeting metamorphoses into what is granite, what is pumice,
the hardened production out of the volcano flows of rivers of primal fears.

To see the granite or pumice dagger knifing through the stifled air
of interminable vacuousness,
slicing through eyelashes like a Campbellian chunky lid,
increases not acuity of vision,
clarity of perception,
nor intensity of prophecy.

Instead, this movement, cyclically eternal,
illumines rivalry as nonexistent shadows
in the fleetingness of the interiority of volcanic ash,
making of ingenuous interpretations of projections
an ashened cloud riding the wings of dragons
on high as large as one wills
that could threaten an entire universe with choking pompousness.

No shaman can rescue such a soul from its own induced mortal dangers,
lest said soul find its way out of the ashy cumulus
via streaking down the fiery bolt that strikes the axial mountaintop:
that is riding in the saddle of the rainbowed phoenix
flashing its fiery wings to deposit this once forlorn soul
unto the edge of the spring-fed pool in the virgin forest.

Here, from whatever angle, this round pool is the same,
as a visible Arthurian feast of plenty appears,
and confers upon one wisdoms one will soak in,
if one will.

Gazing lustily upon the nakedness of Nature in manifest form,
culling from her her bounty as if it were only resources,
without proper deference,
yields the toothy rending the hunted stag meets
at the behest of the hunters’ hounds.

To be thus strewn,
one’s psychic skin shredded to reveal the inside,
the interiority wends its way along the rivers of blood
seeping into the pool to descend unto the murky-clear depths
from where the unsullied newly reformed
might arise freshly washed clean of the ash deposits
that surely penetrated under the skin.

How is it to experience this?
What some would mistakenly label as bliss,
those of us panting-still
know an experience of Nature as Artemis
seen and reacted to until
death of self does indeed part
speak not lightly of being washed clean by that heart.

This Artemis parallels the action of the Uroboros,
the original dragon,
the keeper and bider of all time and history,
the eater of all mythology and culture,
the progenitor of all thoughts and feelings:
rebirth and eternal return is the fate of the Artist!


Friday, April 06, 2007

why authentic revisioning?

Authentic Revisioning represents a new attempt, some may deem foolhardy, at writing in snippets to try to achieve a jigsaw puzzle result that conveys more meaning than ordinary essays and essay writing are able to accomplish due to the numerous connecting words and explaining required. It is not a type of approach this writer has come across previously, and represents only the first such attempt. It has also been submitted as an example of the thesis/dissertation writing process, for consideration of inclusion in a book on that topic through the Imaginal Institute.

My thinking is that perhaps as a first attempt it will not truly get across enough as a puzzle, and may need more polishing in order to do so, movement of stanzas, reordering of pages, etc., which means that if it is accepted it will be a pleasant surprise. However, regardless of status, this attempt will see further ones that will be forthcoming and posted as they are completed. I hope at some point to release a book of such “essays,” which are not journaling, or freewriting, as much as they are intense thinking on particular topics that are interrelated and ongoing in my life.

Life’s Force,
Scott Michael

Authentic Revisioning

…if we even state that there is such a thing as the collective unconscious, or desire to discuss the dream world, then to say that any way is more or less authentic than another is simply ludicrous. It is the intention of each individual breathing in their actions that defines whether or not that action is ‘authentic’ or not. Authentic to whom?

Journeying on the journey, seeking nothing other than what appears, yet seeing within the appearances all that resonates, one need no goal but intention, no meaning but what is therein. A journey, however, understates the gravity of the situation at hand, for, now this journey undergone, paints and jousts a Dantesque meaning and process.
For truly whether we realize it or not, myth effects us daily, it inhabits us. And as such, an unwillingness to delve deeper and discover the mystery that throbs within the myths, uncovering the meaning behind the sacrality, comprehending the sacred and seeing it reflected in their own self, echoes Oedipus’ inability to see the message in his personal myth as he lived it.
The dissertation direction appeared to me in visionary form, after speaking with a professor about the importance of trees, while playing a soul song on the piano.
Myths, as living stories, free us from our surround while fastening us to it. Myths depend partially upon the environment and interpretation or translation; usually center on deities or spirits; are responsible for creation or the creation of mystery, tensions and change in our world, including natural and so-called unnatural phenomenon, and, as such, wield a sacred influence, an element of mystery and some ineffable power to inform our actions. Myths share similar building blocks, incorporating archetypes; all of which affects our psyche, touching the unreachable and untouchable part of us—the entire Self—that compels us to react emotionally, spiritually and intellectually.
yes, well learning how to write expertly is something I need to do…
First came poetry, from the well of poesis, and then came philosophy as the Narcissus of poetic language. Poetry, emanating from the interiority of nature as it reflects the interiority of the soul in accord with its reflection, allows the unfoldment of the wings of philosophy to take flight.
…beware of thinking myth is only one thing, as black and white. Myth to the eastern culture is different than myth to the western culture as a generalization to the extreme. One does not paint myth white or black or any other color. Myth paints itself; our opinions color our statements but not myth itself. Myths afford more to those who read or live the myths than to those who have myths translated for them.
For, without defining nearly every word we use, how can another know what we say? They may think they know, but we know from experience, that what others think they know we said is not always what we meant to say or said at all at times.
Poetry breathes an alchemicality. Ever it is: creative imagery creating creative thoughts….
I feel like I am beginning to see more in the metaphor of mythology, versus of the metaphor in mythology, than ever before and it is amazing… Myth derives some power from its mystery and more from its commune with the psyche and soul of all in contact with it. What tools, besides our conscious thinking mind should we utilize in discovering the meaning of myth?
When metaphor is borne from the same place of no-thingness that all creativity ultimately emanates from, then how is it not innocent? To call metaphor guilty, malicious, tainted, or worldly, simply because it implies things and points to the ineffableness that it emanates from does not mean that it can dictate process to outcomes. Whenever metaphor emanates from the no-thingness that is the creative and unknowable space of poesis, then it is innocent and incorruptible until it is co-opted by others for their personal devices.
Best of writing and may Ecanus, Ambriel, Akriel and Samandiriel be with you as you write…
I have had writing difficulties as a result of my dad’s passing combined with the seemingly ever-present problem of running out of steam at the end of a degree. This happened with each of the other degrees earned and I need to push through it. I too have entered the underworld, whose heaving underbelly was unbearable grief, and I too have a love that brings me up from such depths of sorrow as never experienced, and asks of me to climb even higher than the heights of keenest sight.
The journey also indicates an understanding of an alchemical transformation, which requires first the descent, then the search, movement, symbolical representation of the process in imagery, and reflection and self-examination in order to transform while the image changes.
Once something is viewed, or experienced in any sense, it is not only deposited in the mind (or consciousness), but also in the body and the unconscious. Too many systems dealing with the therapy of the senses neglect the body, conscious or unconscious, and thus end up not measuring up to the psychic needs of humans.
Mythography does not destroy myth, it opens it up…
The heart attack I experienced in 2004, or was it early 2005, anyways, and the ensuing recovery, was aided by science in the form of chelation treatments, which my father took after his first heart attack and prolonged his life for at least seven years during which time we got to know one another and became friends…science then, minimally, works personally to collectively mythically.
Through art, myth, poetry, psychology, and prose we remember how our bodies, souls, and the earth are intimately connected…
Naming and seeing are, as you know, the first steps in integration, but in my opinion require further work to become foundational in a life. That is the sort of intention I speak of when I mention conscious intention, it arises out of an integration of something that becomes foundational—not that foundational stuff cannot change or remains constant thereafter.
Of course, we all process and write differently, yet, an excellent editor remains invaluable!
My thesis, Part I, compared ideas of Campbell and Jung on Mythology via Alchemy, Mercurius and the Uroboros; Part II was titled Deforesting Tree & Soul.
All energies are in interrelationship, this means that whether one starts with a negative or a positive, one will always be able to find the other at some point: it requires looking and being open, and depending on whether or not one prefers the negative to the positive, the starting point is determined. Of course, there is also the neutral, which seems to be excluded in most related discussions, and it too is part of that interrelationship, which means that one could also find the neutrality of opposing ideas: if one is open to seeing other alternatives.
I choose metaphor over literal, or should I say it chooses me…
I do not see a production dissertation as a reverting phenomenon, but as a liberating one. My initial thoughts were to create a production dissertation with as much theoretical writing as a regular dissertation, only pack it with images. Then, I was told that was too ambitious, and to trim it…
Pinning oneself down is the way to open oneself up to the helixical fractality of the innerness-inwardness-interiority of a particular part of the self, aspect, field or notion. I think it is the most critical step in the dissertation process to do so.
Incredible progress occurred in the form of a breakthrough after being stalled completely due to the over-enormity of scale that I had originally intended to pursue—many lives’ work contained therein—now I have focused in on the notion of Daphne and Apollo in interrelationship, the aesthesis, poesis, consciousness and unconsciousness, the mythical alchemical depth psychological content, the Arbor philosophicum embodied in a moon goddess turned nymph turned moon goddess. Seeing Daphne: A Tree Transforms.
So, I decided to spend the next eight months reading as much as I can lay my hands on about Daphne, including taking a trip to Portugal and then the Madeira Islands to commune with some laurel forests, draw, photograph, paint and write. This will form one of the pillars of my dissertation, I am sure, and so I am excited about the prospect. My intention in this research area is to become the foremost expert, globally, on Daphne, so that the conferral of a Ph.D. means more than I paid for it in sacrifices monetarily and personally.
The trip was, nonetheless, not as profitable as I had imagined, for the laurel trees grew on the edges of steep mountainsides and did not offer much room for examination, exploration or communion, lest I fall to my death. Nonetheless, the power of revisiting a myth while underneath the associated tree proved instrumental. And, I did read a lot about Daphne and Apollo…
I think the ultimate reality is that always and evermore does humanity respond and react more powerfully to images, text, and, music in combination, and, even more so to the actuality of an experience of these within the forest, desert, or in Nature. Visuals and field trips would enhance all dissertations.
As an artist myself, I will attempt to weave image and word throughout the dissertation exhibition, for I think both equally important. I see in aesthesis contaminated by poesis, a way to open people up into worlds never considered on such deep levels, and a way to reach more accord through seeing differences and similarities.
My dissertation will also cover color, but, it is in relation to a developing theory of color affectation upon the viewer/participant. In arranging color patterns in stages throughout the exhibition, my intent is to enable those willing to undergo a transformative experience.
I agree with the importance of writing and focusing on it, and its reinscribing process…but, would see it in combination with the importance of thinking, theorizing, dreaming and imagining about myth (and in my particular case and others as well, creating artwork based on it too), while revisioning it. The very process of revisioning needs closer examination, and how one goes about doing so concerning myths proves even more significant. Revisioning philosophy gives certain tremors, as does psychology, but, when one attempts to revision myth, one enters into a new fray, and chances meeting new judges that do not preside over other fields as often.
Dionysus desires the dynamic processes of life, not resolution, and in this way parallels closely the individuation process, which is an ongoing and lifelong growth. Ensouling relationship and wildness within the civilized, in culture, recall Dionysus, yet they also correspond to the psychic process of realizing the Self. Memory works in re-membering the shadow or Dionysus, moving beyond fear and the extraordinary into the realization of cosmic consciousness—Gaia and humanity beating with one heart.
The Cosmic Tree, Axial Tree, World Tree, Life Tree, etc., each within its system, provide insights of profundity, yet, these all pale as imaginative and later intellectual, intuitional, religious and theological pursuits, when compared and contrasted to the affects one feels when engaging in the same intensity underneath a great old tree specimen/entity. I have been saying this all along and will continue to do so: to remove oneself from Nature and the lessons Nature has for us, each individually and singularly, is to block off a section of our human selves that is integrally connected and interconnected with the Universe. The idea of physical versus symbolic trees is necessary and critical to revisit as long as people still see the tree as merely decoration, symbol, metaphor, home furnishing, paper or shelter.
The negative search is one of interiority, and is no search at all, one that begins with an inner look—not a search for meaning, but, rather an exploration that provides the sense of beingness which for any who have found it removes any thought, need or wish for “meaning”—and fully understands in its explorative nature that nothing that arises is wrong or right, and furthermore that all notions of Truth and Beingness herein reside without reservations or challenges because of the amenability to change.
The re-inscribing myth, deconstructing myth, and reconstructing myth processes all can (but do not necessarily have to) lead one to the process that naturally follows them: revisioning myth. AND, I would say that in order to truly revision myth, one must do so not only in writing, but also in pictorial form, via imagery, as well as through sounds (instrumentalizations and/or vocalizations). To simply (as if writing a revised myth well is simple) revision a myth in writing, in words, regardless of how profound and perfect, is to miss the potential to reach a much wider audience, which holds true for imagery or sounds only, or any of them alone; whereas, in combination they form a revisioning of a most powerful sort!
Myths, in addition to the Donigeristic telescopic, visionistic, and microscopic views, also correspondingly develop as deep and far a molecular structure or cosmic feel as each individual imaginer brings to the observance-encounter; myths are as fractal as life.
Yet, it seems always something remains hidden : there is the element of hiddenness that speaks to more than simply the author and their wherewithfromalloutin…
The book is what hides its face, not the author of the book… And, the reader does not control the hiding, the book hides its face from the reader who is unworthy because they only think, they only research, they only approach the book from a philosophical standpoint, they do not see it alchemically, esoterically (and it is that too, but not alone), imagistically, mythologically, musically, psychologically, naturistically, actively, as well as philosophically and logically.
And, one would be right to point out that the voice is as the voice has been and will be, especially in dialogue with another, although it seems that those dialoguing also ought to give the voice the room to manifest as it will, and so at one point it is this voice and at another that voice, consistent in its constantly changingness.
The numinous encounter makes experiencing life a very lived and transformational life. What is key here is what is key in life itself (all of the cosmos), that is: the presence of change is what makes life continue. To inform what informs the changes in our lives is how we humans shape our lives and destinies.
The study of myth does not destroy myth—it is those who study myth who destroy myth either for themselves or others, who then destroy myth, and only those people who do so… mythology is of the ineffable, the numinous, the sacred, and that can never be realized in language… Is comprehension simple or complex?
After my father died in April, I was not too sure about being ready to write or not, but it seems to have returned, the writing inspiration…
As I have undergone the process of taking back my thinking from my own religious consciousness, I noticed that in some situations, nearly every moment is colored by this lens, and that as one becomes more conscious of this “brainwashing,” that one can will oneself to think differently. A religious consciousness also works its way into one’s thinking on deeper levels, such as psychologically, or philosophically. A deeper meaning, reason, truth, cause, etc., it is all but a drive toward reconciliation with what haunts the innerness of much of humanity.
A religious consciousness is something I am trying to escape; I do not seek to replace God or a God-image with myself or my inner Self or some other passion or intense thought, only to remove myself from its tyrannical clutches. Only then can we say something of originality and intensely human that is not an emanation of historical attachments to God, but rather, a respectful emanation of human beingness.
Nature, on all levels, nurtures and nourishes the human soul, spirit, mind and body, as it also performs similar functions for animals and plants. The kingdoms are not removed and isolated one from the other, instead they are vitally interconnected on levels far more basic than what some may consider—at the molecular and sub-atomic level.
Revisiting anyone we have exposure to, especially the ones that resonate most with or most against our views at the time, will inform us about ourselves and allow us to move beyond current stances into something new. What truly illuminates our views and shapes them are our exposures to thought and our discovery and exploration of what has been inputted, and that which is dreamt.
There is a text, a sub-text, an over-text and a beyond-text that operates at all times.
Concentrated dissertation writing (75-pages minimum theoretical application) and creating of artwork (an exhibition centered on global tree mythologies) for two years, which involves much whittling down, reorganizing, rewriting and editing processes, begins soon.
The soul is both a beingness and a becomingness, a tangible thing in itself and a metaphorical transcendence that can only be formed in its “higher” aspects, and “caught sight of” through the most stringent of practices, regardless of targeted desire of the soul’s many aspects.
Interpretation, our hermeneutical heritage, always risks loss of meaning, and one can never return to the original context or cultural manifestations of the original metaphors and symbols, until time machines become reality. Therefore, such studies as those of the entire field of mythologies and religions of the past rely heavily on interpretation and we cannot escape our own interpretational frameworks ever: hermeneutics is…
Mythological discourse ought to be exploring edges, as in Dr. Casey’s edges…
It is through the archetypal energy of poesis intertwined with the energy of aesthesis (combined in a helixical fractal synthesis), that we tap into passion. It is with passion that we learn—truly learn—more than simple facts, but, also are able to tap into the numinous, which is itself a similar synthesis of completely rational and irrational thoughts, feelings, sounds and images mirroring one another in interrelationship.
I took a LOA for a year, to decide on the dissertation topic, and then withdrew because I felt it was way too personal and not universal enough to warrant a Ph.D.
I have decided to resubmit a revised and new concept paper that re-immerses me in more of the global transformative tree process than what only Daphne would allow. Thankfully, I will be able to use some or much of the research conducted on Daphne as well in the Greek/Roman chapter…. This is most likely what has been brewing all along, but, I needed to let go, and completely, to see the trees within the forest and the forests within the leaves on those trees, in order to be ready to begin fresh and anew…
Thus, the new concept paper returns to the first idea, covering a number of world trees from different cultures, according to scholarship, and in revisioning them, while in a self-induced trance state through being an open conduit to poesis for the artwork for the production arises the potential transformative power, including chapter-ending poems for each. This dissertation seeks to effectuate transformational processes in human consciousness through words, music and imagery in concert.
Transformative as applied, deals with the notion that an interrelationship develops between the creator of artwork, who taps into poesis, the archetypal energy of creating, and the viewer of said artwork, who taps into aesthesis, the archetypal energy of hermeneutical appreciation. This interrelationship puts the viewer partially in the same field of creating energy that the creator tapped into in order to create initially. Any time a viewer taps into the energy of aesthesis, which I see as a conduit for poesis, and vice versa, then they experience a potentially transformative moment. The transformation centers on their consciousness changing, and cannot be consciously prevented through intentional willing, unless one has a highly developed will that can discern between the many types of energies present in any given situation and moment. Such a transformation occurs for the creator as well, but for many artists it occurs unconsciously each time they create because they have not tapped into the energy of poesis consciously; an unconscious transformation occurs for viewer too.
Art is not dead and neither is mythology, nor symbol. They have hidden their faces from most, in shame, for the advantages taken and the lack of appreciation that prevails.
Yes, I have waded through over 18 books now for dissertation purposes, reading completely Writing and Difference. The research has restarted with a vengeance…
If we do not engage in our own personal revisioning of loaded words, then we continue to bask in the previous usages of those words and our exposures to them inform our understandings of them. We each need to reexamine our own personal definitions of all loaded words that trigger strong reactions from us.
To be in the presence of Being and Nothing, and to be aware that one is there, is to tremor and to feel as if one is not part of the reality that others partake in and is to be an outsider while at once being an insider to a degree that traders would envy…
To the level one intends or wills it, rituals and ceremonies connect one with the soul.
Sometimes I think of things and then images come to me, and sometimes images come unbidden and then I think about them.
There is one level at which I think color does not remain a phenomenon of light, and that is at the level of the creative imagination or dreaming—where one could say that color lives instead of depending upon sunlight or artificial light to manifest.
If we delve deeply enough into the interiority of metaphor, into the interiority of what some might term Isis-consciousness or moon-consciousness, then it is that the normal way of perceiving sloughs off, for, I would argue, one finds the way into the interiority of metaphor blocked when one tries to use intellect to penetrate that veil. Metaphor originates from within the same place that poesis does, and this is an unconsciousness as consciousness, or a complete turning on ends of consciousness so that one relies on one’s unconsciousness to guide and direct one, not on the consciousness normally attempting to direct. Thus it is that one can say they are directed, and at the same time could also paradoxically be willing from within the directionless direction.
The ego does not vanish when one enters this form of unconsciousness as consciousness, rather, it is sort-of subordinated to the Self. It operates after the Self has its say, and only then can the ego act. Even still, in this state of interiority, perception kicks in when the ego acts, if not shortly before it thinks of acting. That is to say that whenever the ego is involved, perception too enters, but, is not to say that the Self is devoid of perception. For, the Self also perceives, but, from a place of interiority, not from a place of exteriority (as in most cases the ego does operate from exteriority). So that when on a “drum walk” exercise, blindfolded and with eyes closed, and made to be directionless as seated one meditates, while heading to the sound of the drum (thereby once the drum beats begin one relocates their direction in relation to the drum, which in this scenario the drum beat would be the ego and the relation to it the Self and ego in concert), one can actually “see” trees in proximity.
This Experience of seeing the present but unseeable (due to blindfold and closing of eyes) represents the interiority of Isis-consciousness as best I can manufacture. Such “seeing” proves impossible for most for they have not tapped into that aspect of Self and awareness, and, I would argue more applicably, consciousness. It is this type of consciousness that allows one to enter into the interiority of poesis, as close as one can get to it, and to approximate the process of creating. It is a humbling Experience.
I try to write as directed, not as I wish…
All of life is not text or writing or even words. There are those sides of life that are purely images, purely beingness (without images or words), and/or purely music (no words, images or even beingness seem to factor in here), wherein no words do exist that we only try to word into an experience others will understand later. Certainly, myth is created and destroyed, but does it not seem that even the old myths recycle? Perhaps, only mythologies die to those who see them as dead, or those who would see them dead…
Where is the original position, the ensuing identification of the unity of old ideas and the differences of them and then the unity of these two in the new original position?
Do we all only think in collective ways and not share with others our private understandings of words and ideas?
The revised Concept Paper will feature the scholarly coverage of and revisioning of five Mythological World Trees, as well as the art exhibition/production of them.
Each forest is countless manuscripts of poetry, each leaf a poem or phrase, a stanza or book, depending…which is why I have stated that deforestation is desoulation, for it is a removal of the potential of the exact correct energy needed in poetry to soothe the psyche: soul, spirit, heart, body, consciousness and unconsciousness, of humanity.
The creator, the artist, creates an image, song, writing, or movement and that act of creating is a manifestation of the archetypal energy: poesis.
I am only beginning to write about what color does to the psyche… It factors into my dissertation exhibition as well as in the theoretical dissertation thesis that articulates the necessity of art in transformation—which brings color via the chakra system into play because I intend to provide an opportunity for transformation with the exhibition itself and its arrangement as far as colors go.
It seems to me that Europeans have strangled the myth out of mythology in favor of the logos due to their strangling of the earth, in a parallel or perhaps more appropriately a tangential move to that of the movement of some of Islam, much of Christianity, and some of Buddhism, which have strangled the myth out of mythology due to oppressive doctrines that strangle the heart.
Quotes in the spirit of furthering thought are wonderful, but to use them as a basis to suggest that one’s own thinking is therefore valid, without adequately exploring one’s thought does not work.
The attempt to revision each of the world trees as an integral chapter-ending exercise in seeing into and out of the specific imagery and symbols, while meditating upon them and being meditated upon by them, has reinvigorated me to resubmit and has shown me the way into the material that offers globally-heightened awareness to any who would receive the messages therein.
That is what great art does to us, it evolves into its own interrelationship with our souls and spirits so that the image and our interrelationship continually change and whither and grow, and that is what I would have these trees give to those who attend the exhibition or read the publication.
We are still in the throes of this shift, as human consciousness has not evolved past the notion of ‘natural resources,’ and, since humanity cannot ever return to the notion of trees as deities or progenitors of humankind, we must move into newer territory that is being hinted at by environmentalists, environmentalism and ecologists, accompanied by their shadow of violence.
A minute alone in the forest is worth more than months of scholarly study to the Self and Ego!
Revisioning of myths has been like the tides, for all myths, despite attempts to squelch heroic changes. Once static, myth becomes stagnant, for myth naturally ebbs and flows and seeks not the proverbial djed pillar of clarity. The stagnation clears as mythic flotsam returning to tides revisioned.
However, I would also add, that like Romare (in Spring) hints at by speaking of symbols, and I would flaunt, art and myth are integrally interrelated. At any one point, to truly separate them becomes impossible, because art becomes in its origination and function, a psychomythological manifestation of humanity. Thus, the historical construct of both art and myth begin to join—recall Jung writing about how ‘man’ cannot be divorced from history…
One of the concepts I am working more fully currently involves living sculptures that provide nourishment for the eyes and the body by incorporating fruits and herbs in the designs. A tree factors as the central grounding element, and earth, wood and stones (hopefully from location) become the sculptural attestation to aesthesis and poesis.
When in the studio, or when creating outdoors, in the forests, on the beaches, or on mountains, there is a sense of using both the heart and the mind that never leaves me, even when in the throes of losing three days to sculpting and/or painting. I equate creating with poesis, poesis being the primordial-archetypal energy of creating that once was called inspiration of the Muses or Apollo, the actions/words of Ptah, declarations of God, etc. To construct metaphors or to grasp them requires an activity of interrelationship and intercommunication between heart and mind, for one needs to marshal more than thought, more than feeling, more than emotion, more than intuition, more than action, more than imagination: not one, but all of them in concert provide humanity with the capability to grasp metaphor and/or soul.
Sometimes poesis appears and then disappears, with no aesthesis appearing to occupy that same place or space, and sometimes, aesthesis immediately appears after poesis. Neither is dependent upon the other for an appearance. Instead, the Helixical Fractality of Life envisions these archetypes or energies as being in interrelationship with one another. Aesthesis or other archetypal energies may be the necessary cause for one to tap into poesis, however, poesis does not simply flow in the unconscious of humans awaiting the awareness that one is creating.
Art is a necessary and critical function of mythology and mythological studies, as it is also in religion—icons attest to the central role art has played throughout the millennia. This posits a not-well-developed notion, that of the artist as catalyst to the evolution of mythologies themselves. Art has been long known and recognized as the first source of conveying mythologies, including through oral storytelling, and one could argue either as the first event convincingly. This places both art and word in a similar place of significance in the very studies of mythology and religion, and, yet, who spends time researching these most valuable areas?
Hermeneutics, to my mind, involves two main archetypal energies: aesthesis and poesis. So that to understand the archetypal energy of the numinous requires firstly an experience or encounter with it, even if only a written account of someone else’s experience, which is reflected upon using the tools of interpretation or the energy of aesthesis, and in which process one taps into the energy of poesis to create or language that event. Is not art but perception to the viewer?
To attempt to be a conduit, to be a voicepiece for the unconscious, so that whatever needs to come through can and will, is not an easy task.
When you know something from experiential reality, you speak with authority; it is really that simple, and for some, that authority is seen as dogmatic since it is ‘foreign’ to them. Whatever psychological term one wishes to label such experiences with the numinous as being, is, in the end, reflective of one’s exposure to such terms. Labeling an experience cannot equate to that experience, and so, calling the mystical experience a psychopathic state of inflation is to identify with and align oneself with that terminology, to the detriment of the mystic. I find such terminology as ‘psychopathic inflation’ to be ridiculous…
The transformation of human consciousness is not like a diluvial flooding; it requires varying processes of transformation that seem to act like a tide that moves first this way then that, like the ocean, which has countless chaotic waves, but also contains main currents such as the gulf stream that follow predictable and patterning routes, or the winds like the Santa Anna wind. Perhaps we can attribute no specific thinking to this transformation, but rather, ought to see it as a confluence of any number of varying currents that are then forming one larger current that may then continue to deteriorate into others.
How many of the current currents flowing contain myth and how many contain no myth? Is it rather more to the point that even the ideas that claim to be mythless yet seek mythic status? I think that myths work in the currents of human transformation, and if for now, the notion of an absence of myth needs to flow as a current, from within itself will arise the mythicness. Perhaps we ought to try to stir the mythic from within the current of mythiclessness. Perhaps there is no myth within the mythiclessness.
Although I see and can agree with the notion that while we think, we are (according to Derrida and perhaps Giegerich following him), that we exist while thinking, and that thinking can measure up to our existence at a given moment, there still nags the idea that so too while imagining, dreaming, acting, performing, reacting and perceiving, we also are and that these too can measure up to our collective to individual existences at a given moment. There are times and moments when one receives inspiration that has no thought or thinking attached to it at its conference.
In this way, language appears to be a big game, or battle to the death: chess for chess players who know not the number of levels of the board, nor the pieces present or passive, or any moves prior to them, but whom only know what move they make at that instant and perhaps nothing further. The words we choose to use matter very much; the words we as humans use define us to some extent, and speak to our very natures.
All this defending against attacks sounds like so much insecurity to me disguised in the rhetoric of academic rigors, another chess match with no endgame.
Understandings are; misunderstandings are not possible when you really think about it.
But, the label you choose, and the one I choose do not determine where we go, for that route has been traveled many times over before us. The labeling is not the important aspect of our journey, it is where we go with what we have learned and how we can find a suitable syzygy-coniunctio-marriage for all of this jargon within the confines of art and mythology that truly matters and will either move the field of study further or not. A glimpse of the infinite is possible from whatever angle one glances, if one’s vision is open enough. By vision, I mean to say one’s third eye, one’s supraconsciousness, one’s soul fully opened and receptive…not sight alone, so that through whatever senses one employs, one can tap into this type of vision of unendingness.
Life never stops becoming and being, even in its most generative and degenerative states, the energy persists. Artwork never stops becoming, nor is it the object itself that is the source of the art, rather it is the creation, the very act of creating the work that is akin to the alchemical process of becoming psychologically, and as the artist creates, the artist becomes more psychologically, especially when intent and will are engaged. So true, is it for the appreciator of the artwork, and the artwork in interrelationship with its appreciators, both continue becoming and their becomingness is affected by one another. The conjunction of art-participant and art-work defines the interrelationship of the will and intent of both the appreciator and the creator at that particular moment. The creator imbues their artwork with an element of soul to the degree that they create with intent and will, and the participant engages with that energy-trace through their intent and will when appreciating it. This interrelationship can lead to increased or diminished energy attached to the art-work.
If, in each epoch, there is not an indication or sign of that epoch as clearly represented by the anxiety of language transforming universal thought (according to Derrida) then what does the transformation of universal thought rely upon?
Writing challenges one to see alternatives in everything thought and worded.
How is one to successfully extricate words from a text, from the poet’s experiences and life, and arrive at a meaningfully accurate hermeneutics concerning them?
Poetry, it may be argued, has less diverse recognizable movements than other fine art categories such as drawing, painting, sculpture, and music; yet these reflective constellations (isms) within cultures and the world over in many instances surely made their mark on poetry as well. Mostly the reason for such minimal recognition of poetry by the masses relates directly to the uncomfortability of ‘serious’ poetry, all of which aims in some manner to work the inner workings of the psyche—the process of individuation or the moving in a complex—out onto paper.
When an image materializes in my dreams, there is no penetrating that blind origin, no way to reunite myself or anyone’s self with it’s origin. That type of origin, wherefrom unconsciousness emanates dreams and visions, is ultimately unknowable, and certainly its access not precisely the same from person to person, and perhaps even its makeup entirely varies as well, which would account for the multitudinous forms and ways of presenting creative visions in artwork.
If one has no ideas then one has nothing to write. Ideas flow naturally out of reading another’s words, at least for me, and so I think it is true of all writers.
There is no returning to an original position of a word unless its exact lineage and etymology can be ascertained, and although this can certainly be done for many psychological terms and some philosophical terms, it remains untrue for a majority of the terms in use today. Etymologists disagree on the derivation of the word tree for instance…
Ah, how heavy human hubris weighs the that no feather is light enough to see its soul outweighed! We perpetually kill the liver in every Prometheus chained to rocky dogmatism by turning hubris on its head and damning humanity for damning nature. All of our nature we acquire from Nature, for where else does it come but from within and not from without Nature? The soul more closely parallels wild Nature than it does anything manicured, manufactured or synthetic, yet, even these are but secondary or more exponentially than that, forms or manifestations of Nature itself from within itself, albeit extricated and sterilized in many cases.
But, poetry and the act of poesis is open to everyone, so that anyone could create good art, but, since not many are open to discovering what medium really calls them, and only some find it by accident immediately, and even fewer are drawn to their medium fairly young, the ability to create good art escapes most. Yet, the potential still exists for them, and is there if they but were to explore and discover that aspect within that most closely parallels a divine inspired state when it is exercised.
Poesis emanates from a place of no-thingness, from which no one artist can say they know it intimately, for it is unknowable. The inspiration to create can be said to come from or to well from that same place of no-thingness, and the utter paradox of poesis and creativity, including imagination and thought, is that it also comes from a place of every-thingness. Thus, where poesis and intellect come from is, to me, the same exact place of no-thingness and every-thingness in unified symbiosis. Intellect and creativity can both be practiced, and one can draw from past Experiences as one continues doing either activity, but, where the ability to differ, to do one’s own creative thinking and creating comes from is unknowable. It is this unknowableness that dominates humanity into arriving at divinity as an answer to reason for existence, for how else does it make sense that such abilities as to creatively think and to create could be existent in humanity if not conferred from some-where and some-thing?
Learning is traveling…
The adventurous vision must needs include the ability to travel each time artwork encounters one in whatever setting, once the opportunity presents itself. In the act of traveling while viewing artwork, viewer joins artist in their artistscape, even only momentarily before or after deviating from that particular ‘scape for another more personal one. The artistscape for each piece of artwork, I would argue further, shares some universal themes with all other artwork and artistscapes, the utmost of which is poesis, the power and act of creativity/creation itself, but which list may be quite endless depending on the sensitivity of the viewer and the provocation of the particular artwork itself (for whatever reasons that vary temporarily even for the same individual).
Through creativity, we artists, and all of humanity, have the potential to transcend the mundane, the ordinary, and to enter into the realm of the trance, of the vision, of the sacred as Eliade puts it, and in so doing, to enter into the place of myth, to climb and/or hang on the World Tree that breathes and grows myth, to feel the breezes of future myths ruffling our hair, to see the letters of future myths dancing on the boughs, to feel the rumbles of future myths resonating through the Tree, and to experience all of this in regards former and present myths as well...
Without language, of some sort, there is no communication, and without communication there is no human history, and certainly there is no literary document to discuss.

Poetry on Writing

Writing for the Haul

All this writing is nonsense…
Just a fishing
Hoping to snag
The biggest catch
Or the smallest
One that’ll make profundity
That’ll set new records
For inanity
That’ll perch upon a wall
Eyeing us all
That’ll mark time
An annoyance
All this writing is nonsense…

Writing on the Walls

Connections rushing everywhere…
Whereupon time crushes connections
We soothsayers smooth not sooth
Soothsaying soothes no truth we
Desire not to hear, despite the message
Messengers relate what fear we desire
Lost to remain, whatever the cost
Accosting aside, Remaining lost
Wherever these then reside - connections -
Connecting whatever, however, wherever,
Our keep as keepers of sooth
Soothsaid enough shall keep our
Truths written, as in stone
Stonehenge gives starlit truths

I'm in Charge Here, so Allow me to give it to Myself Please?

Well, I thought, pleasantly, I'm in charge here…
I used to be so proud of how in charge of things
I actually was, that I'd charge admission
Just so's others wouldn’t fall into remission
Through missing my emissions…

See, I was so in charge, I thought nothing'd interfere,
Certainly no one'd dare try to take charge of things,
Not while I ruled the roost,
Not from me in my spruced
Up outfits - was I juiced!

It wasn't much longer, after another loud dress fear,
'Fore the gentlemen over there, took charge of things.
And had audacity to charge me admission
Just so's I couldn't leave and go in remission
From missing their emissions…

Now I don't mind much, having to adhere…
And pride rattles a cranium corner with things,
That seem like cocks at roost,
Amid rooms all down spruced,
I want me to be juiced!

[first stanza of] Greyhound and New York Grass
Oh, but Walt, you wrote – oh how you wrote,
When you wrote, writing where you wrote,
You wrote of Grass, of states, and of love you wrote,
Leaving some questioning why you wrote what you wrote
And then how to write like you wrote.
[excerpt from stanza seven]
Thither words turn sour, sourness stamps tongue,
Twisting lemony citrus squirts of other words,
Yet not uttered, the wordy future soured expositions lay resting,
For the moment silent, not born of saliva surrounding tongues,
Yet unborn from the spittle longing to launch them,

Thursday, November 17, 2005

Cave-Painting with the Shaman Einstein

Bison staring into history’s gaping maw
Spear belt hitching posterior haunch
Lo, what legs are these spindly and human
That you tread the rocky ground upon?
Could it be that the gory bloody head—
bespeckled in grey matter discussed instead
by Einstein, which he says equals metallurgy chemically squared—
squarely resting on newer shoulders, severed,
at the point of breathing stopping and spirit spared,
through complete recognition of beingness weathered,
only represents qualities of animalia relating to loyalty,
steadfastness, stamina, prowess and largess of herders and grazers
whose story is that of migratory?
Could it be that this recognition
represents furthermore a precognition—
of civilizations looming around histories’ corners
whereby cereals and serials get confused by mourners
of the olden ways—beating drums and stirring fires
charring paints, rubbing pigments with horse’s wires
flying through time into extensions of now,
into preclusions of pasts, and altered futures;
so that what was calm becomes a stormy cow
mourning the death of her beloved bull
feeling her heart beating still and full
as the calf comes to comfort her with a nipple withdrawal?
Here, the meat nurtures;
there, the milk nurtures;
and, life continues, strands of DNA from these shaman
and their families entering into the everyday human
carrying with them the bygone rituals and ceremonies
that may one day save humanity from its focus on monies,
that one day caused grief in someone as intelligent
as Einstein: for his atomic contribution he felt negligent…

Thursday, August 04, 2005

Seeing Treeing Osiris

by Scott Michael Potter

While Egyptian mythology is complex in its original vignette form, and offers no clear story lines to follow, many of the deities receive enough mention on tombs, in pyramids, inside coffins and sarcophagi that an understanding of what their main attributes and characteristics are can be sketched. That the succeeding procession of main gods and goddesses each came to take on much of the attributes of the preceding ones is obvious. What these myths or mythemes more appropriately, actually mean or impart is not so clear. [EndNote 1] This paper follows a more esoteric than exoteric leaning, and in specific, seeks to understand esoteric meanings of Osiris contained within a tree, as a tree, a tree-deity or tree-spirit. The focus centers on the symbolism of the tree in the Osiris-Isis myth: firstly, the significance of both coffin and tree enveloping the dormant god (who in some versions is thrown into the water in the coffin without being killed first); and secondly, that the tree later grows to mammoth proportions. [EndNote 2] Throughout the following considerations, the notion of the Cosmic Tree, Axial Tree, World Tree, Life Tree, or Central Pillar thrive in the background, as they do in the myth itself. Thus, the mythological import of such symbology shall be briefly explored at the outset. The significance of Horus and the coniunctios between Osiris and Isis and Nephthys, albeit important, can be found in the Appendix. [EndNote 3] Nor will the plethora of other tree referents in Egyptian mythemes, which suggests a deeper connection to trees than previously assumed, be visited in the body of the paper. [EndNote 4] Finally, the idea of the image: tree, itself, must be looked at initially, in order to determine from what idea of that image the paper’s ideas flow.
EndNote 1 Please see Appendix for a quick look at functions and science embedded in Egyptian myth.
EndNote 2 The implementation as a (Djed) pillar is contained in the Appendix.
EndNote 3 See Footnote 3 in the Appendix for some thoughts concerning these from a psychological perspective.
EndNote 4 Please see Appendix for a brief exploration of some of these other tree-deities.

A tree, as image, idea and symbol, means as many things as most other rich archetypal symbols do. Mircea Eliade, in Images and Symbols: […], writes: “[…] Images by their very structure are multivalent” (15). Trees compose horizontally to vertically, and as such are apt representations of the human psyche. A symbolized image therefore contains even more meaning than the image initially did, normally gaining in esoteric import, increasing as it becomes mythologized. Trees have represented the idea of a World Axis, Cosmic, World or Axial Tree; but before they came to represent such mythological implications as the center-point upon which the universe revolved, navel of the earth or the pillar that interconnects the various realms of our world—heaven, earth and underworld—surely they meant nurturer, nourisher, protector, shelterer and fueler. These earlier functions that trees were seen to represent then, must have been reposited in the collective unconscious or the collective psyche, which informed the manner in which trees were imaged later. The gender of mythological trees being mainly feminine makes more sense when one recalls that trees initially represented more motherly qualities. In Myths of the Sacred Tree, Moyra Caldecott recognizes the continuous nature of tree symbology; “The diversity of our use of the tree as meaningful metaphor and symbol knows no end” (18).

This symbolism varies from the tree as benefactor of procreation, enlightenment, transformation, divination, wisdom, knowledge, good, evil, and redemption—these boons come to specific mythic characters at the cost of some sacrifice, and who are often identified with the trees themselves—to the tree as originator of the cosmos, the world, or humanity, or into which humanity or divinity transforms (Potter 1).

These universal trees came to offer a means to reach above, below and out. Such a center is represented by both tree and mountain most commonly. Eliade writes: “The soul of the deceased ascends the pathways up a mountain, or climbs a tree or a creeper, right up into the heavens” (Images and Symbols 49). I think that Egyptian myths, the myth of Osiris in particular, remember the prior images of trees, even those before the image became symbolized, and as such embody many of the attributes seen within universal trees. [EndNote 5] Joseph Henderson, in Man and His Symbols, writes: “We know from many examples that an ancient tree or plant represents symbolically the growth and development of psychic life (as distinct from instinctual life, commonly symbolized by animals)” (152). The psychology inherent in trees as symbols and that of the psychology of trees themselves also prove rich topics that need further exploration. After shortly scanning the image of the tree and its symbolic and metaphorical aspects, it proves beneficial to relate the myth of Osiris that will form the basis for a majority of comments and insights, followed by some synopsis of Osiris as a deity and in his tree characteristics.
EndNote 5 Thus, the feeding and watering aspects of Tefnut or Nut and Hathor as sycamore goddesses in the underworld and the protecting aspects of Isis in the Osiris myth take on more import.

Plutarch provided the first comprehensive story of Osiris and he used current stories and customs about Osiris common during the first century CE to build his version of the Osiris-Isis myth as related in his Concerning Isis and Osiris. In Egyptian Mythology: […], Geraldine Pinch writes: “His stated purpose in writing the book was to seek the universal truths that he believed to lie behind the myths and beliefs of all cultures” (41). The myth goes as follows:

Osiris is tricked into trying out a sarcophagus, which once inside, he is then sealed and dumped into the Nile by Set and his followers. In Egyptian Myths, George Hart writes: “[Isis] pursued the chest to Byblos in the Lebanon where it had been enveloped in a magnificent heath-tree which the king had cut down to form a pillar in his palace” (41). She becomes nursemaid for the Queen’s son and in the midst of attempting to confer immortality to the child, the mother sees him burning and screams, thus interrupting the process. He continues: “Isis then demanded the pillar and cut out the chest, donating the outer wood, which was coated with fragrant unguent and wrapped in linen, to her temple at Byblos” (41). Isis returned the chest to Egypt and left it unguarded one night when Set was hunting; He discovered the chest and cut Osiris into fourteen pieces to be scattered around Egypt. When Isis found out about the disaster, she collected all the parts of Osiris except his phallus that some fish had eaten. Osiris and Isis still manage to couple, sometimes with a wooden phallus and othertimes with none, thereby producing their son, hawk-headed Horus. Eventually, Osiris is ruler of the underworld and Horus of the earth, while Set helps Osiris vanquish the serpent Apophis during the nocturnal journey through Nut, as Osiris unifies with Ra.

Osiris, as has been intimated, meant numerous things, especially since he absorbed attributes of so many of his deity-predecessors (mainly those of Atum, Ptah and Ra). According to Anthony Mercantante, in Who’s Who in Egyptian Mythology, Osiris has been combined with Aah to demonstrate his crescent or full moon qualities; Geb in relation to the cosmic egg and earth qualities; Horus in combination to represent the rising son; Neb-Heu, as the Benu-bird headed mummy representation of the Lord of Eternity (everlastingness); Neper for the grain attributes; Orion or Sah to complement Isis-Sept or -Sothis; Ra in the form of night and day suns; and, Tua as the begetter and god of the dead (115-16). Erich Neumann, in The Origins and History of Consciousness, writes: “Worshipped as vegetation, grain, and in Byblos, as the tree, [Osiris] is a god of fertility, earth, and nature, thus combining in himself the characteristics of all the divine sons of the Great Mother [Attis, Adonis and Tammuz according to N.]; but he is also water, sap, the Nile—in other words, he is the animating principal of vegetation” (225). In Valley of the Kings, John Romer thinks that, historically, Egyptians represented Osiris as a mummified figure sometimes with grain sprouting out of it, the Djed pillar, a khepri, khepera, or scarab beetle, or a vase with head (214); whereas Donald Mackenzie, in Egyptian Myth and Legend, sees Osiris as a tree, the Apis bull, the boar, the goose, and the Oxyrhynchus fish (2), and as “an ancient king of Egypt who taught the Egyptians how to rear crops and cultivate fruit trees. He was regarded as a human incarnation of the moon spirit” (8). Pinch writes: “Both Ra and Osiris could be identified with the benu bird, an expression of the ‘secret knowledge’ that these two gods were one” (117). She continues: “His [Osiris’s] soul could be shown as a bird perching in a tree or grove growing from the [Primeval] Mound” (181). Marie-Louise von Franz, in On Dreams & Death: […], adds: “Osiris is also called ‘the Lord of Decay’ and ‘the Lord of the Abundant Green’” (12-13); in addition, she describes a protection charm for Osiris in which he is named the “Large Green Ocean” (85). In Resurrecting Osiris: […], Muata Abhaya Ashby comments that Osiris was the first-born god on the ‘Epagomenae,’ the extra five days brought into existence by Djehuti/Thoth in his form of manager and sustainer of creation (53-54). Finally, and not exhaustively, Romer writes: “The King is identified as the God of the dead, Osiris, the son of the sky and the earth” (64). Clearly, the abovementioned show a tree connection. Osiris, as son of sky and earth and god of the underworld, and then as the tree, contains the notion of the Cosmic Tree in its celestial world, underworld and earthly connections: he is a bridge or conduit to each of the realms as humanity has seen them, just as the Cosmic Tree has been.

Historically, it is helpful to situate Osiris in the period in which he was worshipped, according to archeological records. [EndNote 6] Pinch writes: “The cult of Osiris is hardly known before the Fifth Dynasty, but he gradually became the most important funerary god” (11). She continues: “By the time of the Coffin Texts [Middle Kingdom], all the elite dead could be identified with Osiris, the god who died and rose again” (16). Thus, Osiris, as was the Egyptian custom, absorbed much of the qualities and attributes of the main gods preceding him. [EndNote 7]
EndNote 6 The Appendix contains some thoughts and quotes about historical notions.
EndNote 7 Hart names Memphis as the birthplace of Osiris and mentions his connection to Abydos as an epithet, ‘Khentamentiu:’ ‘Foremost of the Westerners,’ which he thinks links Osiris to the underworld and spirits hoping to gain access to it (30).

Trees find several conversations with Osiris beneficial. Set, his brother, sequesters Osiris within a wooden coffin, made of a tree, which then comes to rest at the base of a tree that subsequently performs miraculous growth feats only to become a pillar in a palace. The coffin has been identified as being a wooden one that is sealed with lead; an alchemical referent is this sealing with lead, and in alchemical explorations lead is seen as the base metal that is worked and transformed into gold. Osiris equivocates with the process of individuation when seen in an alchemical fashion, going from the leaden death to a rebirth as a sun god who rules the underworld. Osiris conquers death with the help of his anima-ted transcendent bird-feminine soul, Isis, and goes on to lord over it, to even wield creative control over it. In his dead form he is lead, and as he transforms through the birthing of a son, despite being without his generative member, and dismemberment and rememberment, Osiris as ruler of the underworld, a sun god, transforms into precious and alchemical gold. Osiris metamorphosizes into the philosopher’s stone, which has been called the Arbor philosophicum, yet another tree. This action could be said to be founded upon Osiris’s death and containment within the coffin.

Once the coffin rested upon the shore at Byblos, a tree grew around it. That tree recalls the much earlier “tree of life.” Osiris as tree or affiliated with trees occurs frequently. [EndNote 8] He has been identified as or affiliated with, variously, the Djed, sycamore, erica, persea or tamarisk. Ashby identifies the tree that enclosed Sar/Osiris’ sarcophagus as being a tamarisk (61). [EndNote 9] Osiris is not only the tree of life as represented by the sycamore tree, but also contained within the tree, he is the water that sustains that tree. In Figure 10, of On Dreams and Death: […], von Franz discusses an image that shows a box that could be construed as a coffin, with a tree growing out of it that emanates an arm holding a pitcher of water pouring into a dead person’s drinking bowl. The fecundity of the image lends itself to multivalent interpretations, including the significance of the tree bringing or being the water or life waters for the dead. This water is the prima materia. As, in Alchemy: […], von Franz writes: “It is the divine water which is naturally not H2O, but is actually a symbol for the most basic matter of the world, the prima materia” (66). One could say that the coffin, tree and water all represent Osiris in this image. That the tree grows an arm that holds a pitcher harkens back to images of Hathor, Nut and Tefnut trees providing water and food for the souls in the afterworld. Pinch writes: “The body of Osiris could also be shown regenerating inside a tree” (179). What a wonderful observation, and one with special significance as the planet is being deforested so rapidly. Both deities and bodies, spirit and matter, are regenerated by the insides of trees, not cut down trees, but growing trees. Osiris dies into a sycamore tree, his coffin surrounded by the great tree, and the notion of life and death being conferred by or through the agency of trees is thereby implied to admitted. [EndNote 10] The strata of memories of trees as the creators of humanity continue to encourage the implementation of such pole erections as the Djed pillar. [EndNote 11]
EndNote 8 The Appendix contains some tree-related information gleaned from images in the Temple Denderah.
EndNote 9 That the king was amazed at the extraordinary size and fragrance of the tree makes more sense once one knows a bit more about the tamarisk; please see Appendix for more information regarding this adaptable tree.
EndNote 10 Mackenzie writes: “Like Thoth, Osiris was identified with the tree spirit. His dead body was enclosed in a tree which grew round the coffin, and Isis voyaged alone over the sea to recover it. […] The myth, as will be seen, is reminiscent of archaic tree and well worship, which survives at Heliopolis, where the sacred well and tree are still venerated in association with the Christian legend” (8). Osiris not only dies into the tree, he also is purportedly buried underneath one. Hart states that the island of Biga, at the Abaton, allegedly holds the burial place of Osiris, underneath the “Naret-tree” (32).
EndNote 11 The tree, whether in pillar or pole form, acts as the supporter of the souls of the dead, as Anup the psychopomp-jackal does. Please see Appendix for further exploration of the Djed pillar.

In exploring the tree-imagery surrounding Osiris in Egyptian myth, that Osiris continually finds comparisons to trees of differing types speaks to the underlying Cosmic Tree that rarely is identified as being one specific variety of tree (Yggdrasil is, however, an ash). It also speaks to the notion of a psychological connection to trees that predates historical records. von Franz writes: “The tree is the unconscious life which renews itself and continues to exist eternally, after human consciousness has ceased to exist” (On Dreams and Death: […] 25). As previously seen, Osiris embodies many things, especially due to the Egyptian custom of absorbing much of the prior deity’s attributes into the newer and more favorable current deity. Egyptians and those commenting on the myths of Osiris, knew Osiris as knowledge, enlightenment, giver of laws, arts, grain, cultivation, irrigation, agriculture and corn, mining and working of metals, mythology-religion and the sciences. He was seen as the light, sun, moon, male, female, ox, bull, god of the underworld, a world-traveler, the Persea tree and blossom, sycamore and other trees, and a palace pillar. He was thought of as active or passive, an inventor of civilization, provider of fertility and fecundity overcoming castration, a husband, father, and the source of the great inundation of the Nile. He suffered a humiliating death, grew a tree to mammoth proportions whence inside a sarcophagus from within the tree and he therefore was seen as having generative as well as regenerative powers. He later was conflated and confused by numerous cultures and scholars with Adonis, Apis, Attis, Bacchus, [EndNote 12] Bata, Dionysus, Orpheus and Serapis. The vegetative connection to sowing and reaping of agriculture, especially regarding the inundation and recession of the Nile, or the astronomical alignment, only begin the exploration of the myth of Osiris; a deeper focus grows with his continual and persistent connection to trees. It is through Osiris and his connections to the Cosmic Tree, from Osiris as tree god, and his aspects as tree-fallen, to those of tree-in-dweller and tree-resurrected, that the consciousness of humanity manifests mythologically in the Egyptian Osiris Myth. The shift into centroversion, from an arguably older, nature-based consciousness, as evidenced by the Osiris myth and pointed out by Neumann, and thus removing itself further from its interconnectedness with nature, manifests in the treatment of trees mythologically. Transformation of cultural norms, such as the treatment of trees, reflects an overview that suggests that all peoples within an era do not feel or think similarly; therefore, there is room for the possibility of tree-worship and tree-reverence in the entirety of human development. Such persistence of tree-reverence demonstrates that humanity can continue to connect with the spirits of trees, if so open. It is precisely Osiris as the sycamore tree, representing psychic transformation and renewal with the Cosmic Tree myth running in the background, that lends the esoteric power to his myth.
EndNote 12 In Osiris: […], Cooke states that both Plutarch and Herodotus (as well as all Egyptians according to Herodotus) held “that Osiris and Bacchus were one” (29).


EndNote 1—Functions and Science in Egyptian myth
The main arguments offered by scholars concerning Egyptian myth resemble those functions that myths serve as identified by Joseph Campbell in The Hero’s Journey and Thou Art That. He saw four main universal functions for myths: mystical, cosmological, sociological and pedagogical. On a cosmological-sociological bent, I think that the Egyptian mythemes contain embedded scientific revelations, as offered by Paul Laviolette’s subquantum kinetics exploratory commentary in Beyond the Big Bang. He writes: “It is also possible, however, to interpret it [the story of Osiris] as portraying subsequent matter creation taking place on an ongoing basis, for the ancient metaphysics teaches that ether has continued to spawn matter since the time of this first primordial event” (110). [EndNote 13] And, as offered by Gerald Massey in an astronomical focus in Ancient Egypt - The Light Of The World: […], whereby he compares the constellations and various planetary alignments to the movement in the myth itself. Many others have opined on the science embedded in Egyptian myth. Massey also writes of the sociological function of Egyptian myth and the fundamental observational origin of those myths. Yet, the more esoteric meaning (read mystical) of the myths can be lost to such scientific, functional and origin (Was Egypt the “mother culture” or, as many suspect, was not Egypt one of the dispersionist cultures that was given much of their science and myth from another culture? Evidence from the earliest tombs shows a full writing system and a mythology intact, which means that this culture had to originate from somewhere. However, how deep do archeologists have to dig, and how many planets and star systems do astronauts and sci-fi writers have to visit in order to satisfy those seeking an origin?) explorations, and by esoteric I mean to imply the transcendent meanings centering around metaphor common to myth as Campbell has asserted.
EndNote 13 For more thoughts on Laviolette’s book, see the posting online:

EndNote 2—Osiris and his Djed
The Djed pillar finds it similars elsewhere. Eliade writes: “In Vedic India, the sacrificial stake (yupa) is made of a tree which is similar to the Universal Tree. […] From the wood of this tree the sacrificial stake is fashioned, and this becomes a sort of cosmic pillar […]” (44-45). Somehow, the yupa sounds familiar and similar to the Djed pillar, whose construction and ritual surrounding its erection generally form little of the focus of authors read, but whose composition and transformation from a simple pillar into a more figural representation is depicted psychologically by Erich Neumann in some detail in The Great Mother […]. Could it be that the original tree-felling for the construction of the Djed pillar resembles more closely that of the ritual around the tree-felling for the yupa? The erection of the Djed pillar has also been covered in some detail by Neumann, and its significance as the centroversion or everlastingness of Osiris (and therefore the pharaoh), but, what remains missing in his erudite psychological commentary is the material and mythological significance of the tree-felling, tree-dwelling and tree-raising of Osiris.

Michael Conforti in Field, Form, and Fate: […], writes: “The attracting quality of the archetype pulls for commonality of experience and a universally recognizable expression of form” (27). If one accepts Conforti’s notion of an archetypal influence on the commonality of tree worship globally, an idea Jung also asserts and names independent invention, placing its appearance on the shoulders of the collective unconscious, then that the yupa sounds similar to the djed is really only due to an archetypal field imposing its energy in differing areas particular to each locale. Conforti continues: “Patterns are the imprints of the archetype, and perhaps even imprints of the divine, whose recognition and assimilation is transformative” (47). In stating that the patterns left by the influence of archetypes transform through recognition and assimilation of them, he psychologically combines the previously polar opposites of independent invention and dispersion. This move resonates with Jung’s earlier move of stating that whether myths generated out of either method truly was unimportant: their affects upon the human psyche were the real reason to study them, not which culture could claim first rights to a particular myth.

Amentet is identified by Ashby as the union between Amun/Amen and Asar/Osiris because “tet refers to the Djed Pillar of Asar[/Osiris]. […] The Djed symbolizes the awakened human soul which is well ‘established’ in the knowledge of the Self.” Ashby states that this special realm is not only the abode of Asar/Osiris but is also “the ultimate destination of those who become enlightened” (147). Ashby then quotes Chapter 125: 1-17 from The Egyptian Book of Coming Forth By Day, in which an initiate identified as Asar/Osiris negates all growing things in a brief list, including the cedar tree, acacia tree and grass and herbs. In a realm that is signified by the union of Amun/Amen and the tet or Djed pillar form of Asar/Osiris it would seem antithetical to negate trees, yet, in doing so, the reference to growing things is made, nonetheless, and specifically to trees. I think this mentioning of trees in the negative sense speaks to something deeper than simply saying this is the land of non-growing things, especially if one considers that the realm is named partially after the Djed pillar form of Asar/Osiris. As Wolfgang Giegerich following Hegel and others has made clear, the negation of the original position brings its deeper essence into awareness. Ashby later identifies Amentet as being “Transcendental-beyond all planes” and as being located within Duat, while Tet “symbolizes the awakening human soul who is well ‘established’ in the knowledge of the Self” (253). Thus, it appears that the notion of negating the original leads to the realization of the transcendental or the mythical metaphor that each of these trees represents. Unfortunately, with the proliferation of varying interpretations of what trees mean what and are identified with which deity in Egyptian mythology, what the actual metaphorical meaning of these trees are becomes veiled and later transparent to those whose attitudes and cultural milieu do not revere trees, such as in Plutarch’s age and on.

Djed tree or pillar: its raising and accompanying ceremony represented the resurrection of Osiris and the sycamore tree of the myth (Hooke 70). Neumann states: “In the symbolic equations of a Feminine that nourishes, generates, and transforms, tree, djed pillar, tree of heaven, and cosmic tree belong together” (The Great Mother 243). He continues: “The principal symbol of Osiris is the ‘djed pillar,’ a tree fetish, itself sufficiently remarkable in treeless Egypt; and in Byblos, too, a tree, wrapped in linen and anointed, was worshipped as the ‘wood of Isis’” (The Origins and History of Consciousness 70); and states further: “[…] the erection of the djed pillar in the coronation ceremonies at the Sed festival, symbolizes the renewal of Pharaoh’s strength” (ibid 70). Neumann comments that the Djed pillar is the oldest representation of Osiris (ibid 229). He goes on to mention the obvious significance of the wooden sarcophagus, also hewn from trees (ibid 230); and then agrees with Budge’s interpretation of the djed forming from combining Osiris’s sacrum with the older tree-trunk of Busiris. In his discussion, Neumann repeatedly draws attention to the idea of the importance of erection, calling the sacrum the “higher’ phallus,” which eventually gets replaced by Osiris’s head (ibid 231). The djed symbol may originally have been seen as a pillar made of reeds or sheaves of corn and alternatively as separating sky and earth, but, it eventually (by the New Kingdom) came to be associated most closely with Osiris (Pinch 127-28). The significance of the Djed pillar being raised thus associates more with Osiris being revived (sitting up again), or symbolically, the Cosmic Tree returning the conduits of the afterworld to the Egyptians.

Ashby states: “The Djed column is symbolic of the upper energy centers (chakras) that relate to the levels of consciousness of the spirit within an individual human being” (34). He continues: “Djeddu refers to the abode of Asar[/Osiris]” (147). Without knowing the etymological roots of the Djed in the Djed pillar versus the djed in the djeddu that is Asar/Osiris’ abode, nor what adding an additional du to its end, drawing deeper connections between them engages in conjecture and imagination, yet, one could say without too much controversy that to call Asar/Osiris’s abode the djeddu, is to name his abode after the Djed pillar that represented him in festivals and in worship. The significance I would like to call attention to then is in the fact that a place one dwells in, albeit a deity, is named after a stylized tree representation of oneself. Naming a home or abode after oneself as a tree is to name the place itself oneself. Doing so in this connection then places particular attention on the divine nature of not only the place but also the stylized tree and the tree itself by extension. Laviolette writes: “The hieroglyphic meaning of these symbols is normally given as ‘prosperity’ (uas), ‘life’ (ankh), and ‘stability’ or ‘durability’ (djed). Schwaller de Lubicz, however, identifies them respectively with spirit, soul, and body” (118). Massey states: “The Tat, a pillar or tree-trunk, was an emblem of stability and type of the god Ptah as the fourfold support of the universe” (116). Laviolette describes how the djed not only represents physicality, but also sustains it in the ongoing process of life regeneration. He writes: “Finally, the djed pillar may be interpreted as a symbol of the physical form, or ‘body,’ produced by this spirit-animated ‘soul,’ thus denoting the explicit order that incarnates from the underlying implicit order” (118); and: “The djed was understood to symbolize the cosmic pillar that supports the vault of the sky and thereby maintains physical form in existence” (118); continuing with: “Its [djed pillar] upright stance was supposed to portray life overcoming the process of death and decay, the cosmic victory of order over disorder” (119); and finally ending with: “The four tiers that cap the top of the djed indicate that the pillar symbolizes physical form, the number four being the traditional symbol for solid matter” (119). Such a solid line of argument, concerning the physicality of the djed, suggests a return to the matter at hand.

The djed is a manifestation of physical matter, the sustaining presence that yields to new manifestations of that matter, and the spirit and soul contained within the matter. If one accepts that Horus is soul, Osiris is (passive)-spirit, and Isis is (active)-spirit, and further that the trinity has merit in its esoteric teachings, then erecting the Djed pillar would definitely point toward a reinvigoration of spirit, soul and matter, and as such, represent them symbolically. Laviolette continues:

A myth dating from the Old Kingdom compares the first creation to the opening of a lotus flower. It states that prior to physical creation, there existed an ether resembling a dark sea of limitless expanse. One day from the sea’s ‘surface’ emerged an immense luminous lotus bud. With the bud’s opening, light and life came into being. […] The Pyramid Text relates that when the lotus appeared, ‘Order was put in the place of Chaos’ (121).

Order is generally accepted as being represented by Ma’at, while chaos and disorder generally represent Set, however, in this context, with lotus blossoms underneath Osiris’ bier, they could be construed as being an aspect of Osiris, or that Osiris has the blessings (read: power) of Ma’at. One could also see this example of order replacing disorder as Horus overcoming Set allows Osiris to rearise and to assume his Lordship over the realm of Duat or the underworld. According to Laviolette, the Djed pillar portrayed “life overcoming the process of death and decay, the cosmic victory of order over disorder” (119). If both notions are acceptable, then the lotus symbolizes much the same as the Djed pillar concerning cosmic order and disorder. Seeing Set as Chaos or Disorder and Osiris or Horus as Order, and these two/three embodied in one symbol, the Djed pillar—which I see as a stylized representation of the tree that formerly was or contained Osiris—suggests that the tree at one point may have represented both order and disorder in interrelationship for the Egyptians.

EndNote 3—Osiris-Isis and Horus
The Osiris-Isis myth as indicative of the interrelationship between consciousness and unconsciousness

The following two diagrams are adapted from ones of the psyche contained within Jung’s opus.

Emotional Spirit-Soul

The quaternio above represents the bodies as seen in esoteric tradition.


active-spirit-Isis soul-Horus passive-spirit-Osiris


This quinio above represents a way of seeing the Egyptian concepts of the Jungian psyche as a diagrammatic wholeness, which, when viewed in this light and with the full knowledge that these ‘opposites’ act in concert with one another and never in utter totality (rather in helixical fractality) demonstrates further the interrelationship of the psychic parts that have been far too long seen as separate and distinct from each other.

The concept of the diagram owes its profundity in the realization that these various aspects outlaid as opposites can and do ‘switch places’ with one another throughout a lifetime; so one could view them as pairs of ‘opposites’ within pairs, a heiros gamos that occurs within another heiros gamos, so that there is a marriage of the entire psyche that one can view if one is open enough to see it.

The passive-spirit-Osiris could also be seen as Adams’s cultural unconscious, active-spirit-Isis as the Jungian personal unconscious, soul-Horus as the Jungian collective unconscious in union to separation with the collective conscious, ego-Set as the collective consciousness and body-Nephthys as the personal consciousness. The underlying layers here, however, are the ‘parents’ of these aspects that are married twins in Egyptian mythology. Soul-Horus is in constant struggle and confrontation with ego-Set. Ego-Set initially kills passive-spirit-Osiris, which is in reality necessary for the soul-Horus to be born from the union of the active-spirit-Isis with the dead passive-spirit-Osiris. Active-passive-spirit-Osiris mistakes body-Nephthys, the twin sister of active-passive-spirit-Isis, in a drunken stupor and the offspring is shadow-Anubis. Shadow-Anubis is both ‘good’ and ‘bad’ contents of that which we do not know about ourselves and continually admonishes and congratulates soul-Horus according to soul-Horus’s actions throughout his mythological meanderings. Shadow-Anubis is the maker of the footprints in the sands of Egyptian time…through him we determine whether our soul is light as a feather or heavy as a brick.

Isis affiliations
The bird is commonly associated with spiritual transcendence in dreams and myths. Thus, Isis, when appearing in the form of a swallow or some other bird could be said to connote a stage or period of spiritual transcendence, and certainly as Osiris reanimates after imprisonment in the coffin, tree and column, resurrecting, the significance of Isis in the form of the swallow or hawk flapping its wings above his corpse appears to impart such import. The image of her as a swallow flittering and twittering about the column then acts as a foreshadowing technique along with the admission that such transformational processes require more than one step. Hooke writes: “[…] swallows are connected with fertility and childbirth” (93). This makes the appearance of Isis as a twittering swallow flying about the pillar Osiris is contained within a foreshadowing event of her future impregnation.

Ashby credits the discovery of wheat and barley to Isis/Aset and the development of its cultivation to Asar/Osiris, while explaining Osiris/Asar’s ability to spread cultivation and civilization through his employment of hymns, songs and instrumentation (55).

Laviolette sees a connection between the recovery of the dismembered parts and transformation. He writes: “It is also significant that she is only able to recover thirteen of Osiris’s pieces, because this number is the esoteric symbol for death and transformation to a new state of being, a concept depicted in Arcanum 13 of the Tarot” (112).

Aset/Isis then cut into the pillar and removed the chest, wrapping the remainder of the pillar in linen drenched with perfumed oil, which piece of wood was allegedly preserved in a temple in Byblos and was then worshipped (Ashby 63).

In comparing two scenes from New Kingdom Egypt, Hestrin, in “The Lachish Ewer” tries to demonstrate the religious significance of the asherah in Jewish mythology. Mark Smith, in The Early History of God: […], comments on these images, saying: “One shows the goddess Hathor as a tree giving nourishment to the king, and another renders Isis in the form of a tree giving suck to a noble and his wife” (113).

In this quick look at some elements of or pertaining to Isis, her complementarity to Osiris appears as necessary to the action of transformation that he will undergo. It is his initial action, being born first, and then dying first, that then require her further action to ensure his being born again and perhaps dying again. Isis provides the feminine side to Osiris that once activated allows him to complete himself and through their union produce a son. Whether this son was conceived in the womb of their mother or later through wooden-immaculate conception matters little in considering his influence on Osiris. The son is an extension of their union, and of Osiris, and provides an additional complement to Osiris, since one rules the living on the earth and the other the dead in the underworld or afterworld. Without Isis, Horus does not exist; without Isis, Osiris dies and is replaced by Set. Isis fundamentally moves the action in the myth, and as such could be seen as the divine essence of procreation and regeneration, while Horus is the manifestation of divine procreation and Osiris is the manifestation of divine regeneration.

Laviolette explains the Isis, Osiris, Horus myth of spontaneous conception, which sounds a lot like the mystery surrounding the immaculate conception, in interesting psychologically charged jargon of the Physics field. He writes: “Thus the seed from which Horus sprang does not come from his parents but emerges spontaneously in their midst as a fluctuation arising from the ether itself” (112-13). The ether sounds like the Third—a field of unequal to co-mutual to directive energy created by the interaction and interrelationship of two entities or objects or fields possessing magnetism—such an idea works on many levels simultaneously. He continues: “Isis and Osiris contribute to his generation by forming a matrix of circular causality that nurtures Horus into being” (113). Horus may also sing harmonies of synchronicity. Laviolette states: “Isis is the prime actor here in that she consummates her union with Osiris by marginally reviving him from his death state” (113). To consummate a union resulting in spontaneous conception would require great energy of intention from the female as well as male participant. Such a procreative act created between two parties, resulting in a manifestation of poesis, is akin to fire stealing Prometheus, meditating consciously Gautama, redemptive hanging Christ, or the runes being acquired from Yggdrasil by hanging Odin, in that each time a new procreative act comes into being, it is preceded by a sacrifice of some sort that is inherent in the realm of change. What I am saying is that perhaps Osiris was in such deep meditation that even the loss of sexual organs or body parts was not enough to curtail his procreative powers: his ability to tap into the archetypal field of poesis kept his soul energy alive. Life seeks to continue more than it does to end. Finally, Laviolette says: “This emphasizes the feminine, formal aspect of process as being the primary seat of generation” 113). Horus also provides alternatives, such as reversals of energy and generations of gender—as a disembodied embodiment. Horus represents an evolution of consciousness in the metaphorical field of spontaneity. Horus sings as the Self in journey, accompanied by the trusty shadow his brother/uncle. The shadowy uncle, Scar, presents very well in the popular children’s movie “Lion King,” foiling Simba’s attempts to grow up too fast, allowing him to blunder.

In Knowledge for the Afterlife: […], Theodor Abt and Erik Hornung discuss the uniting of Re and Osiris as being that of a “reunion of soul and body” (84), and later Abt refers to Osiris as being equivalent to the unconscious that manifests in dreams and sleep (94). Abt continues: “Osiris is another part of the whole [psychic identity of an individual], a mirror image of Re. He supports and purifies consciousness by reflecting its shadow aspects” (94). Osiris as a moon god would certainly be considered shadowy and part of the unconscious to Jungians. That unconscious aspect of Osiris is the spirit energy of the tree that remains latent until being activated by contact with a compassionate human being.

In Resurrecting Osiris: [...], Ashby relates that Anu, Abydos, Philae, Denderah and Ombos all developed theologies centered on Osiris-Isis-Horus as a Trinity (18). He continues: “From a mystical standpoint, the Trinity of Asar[/Osiris]-Aset[/Isis]-Heru[/Horus] represents the movement of the spirit as it manifests in Creation” (Ashby 132).

Since Massey depicts Horus as being double-everything, including equinox, using such logic to connect Horus to the double helix proves an interesting point of departure from his astronomical and into a more scientific interpretation of Egyptian myth. If each of the figures within Egyptian myth represents a type of cellular or biological function, as in those common to living beings, then the transformations and action within the myths, already being favorably compared to the life of the psyche and/or soul, could lead to other illuminating discoveries such as scientific formulas as shown by Paul Laviolette in Beyond the Big Bang: […].

EndNote 4-Egyptian Mythological Trees
In The Golden Bough: […], Frazer writes: “O s i r i s w a s m o r e t h a n a s p i r i t o f t h e c o r n ; h e w a s a l s o a t r e e-s p i r i t , a n d t h i s m a y p e r h a p s h a v e b e e n h i s p r i m i t i v e c h a r a c t e r , s i n c e t h e w o r s h i p o f t r e e s i s n a t u r a l l y o l d e r i n t h e h i s t o r y o f r e l i g i o n t h a n t h e w o r s h i p o f t h e c e r e a l s” (254) . This is not to state that the trees themselves were worshipped, although as is the case most often amongst religions, the referent almost always becomes worshipped by some, rather to state that the metaphorical methodology of embodying deities nearly universally finds its form as a tree. Massey writes:

‘Tree worship’ was the propitiation of a power in nature that was represented by the tree and by the vegetation that was given for food. Although the votive offerings were hung upon its branches, the tree itself was not the object of the offering, but the power personified in Hathor or Nut as giver in the tree (181).

It seems rather obvious to mythologists familiar with ‘tree worship’ that the tree was not actually intended to be worshipped within the myths as handed down, but, rather were vehicles for the metaphor behind the form of the tree. Yet, that trees at one time were or were not worshipped is another matter. Mercantante writes:

The Egyptians believed that some deities lived in trees, thus making those trees sacred. The persea tree, for example, was sacred to Ra, who, as Mau, in the form of the cat, defeated the archserpent of darkness Apohpis at its base. An olive tree at Heliopolis was sacred to Horus, while the sycamore was sacred to Ra, Hathor, Isis and Mut (195).

In The Priests of Ancient Egypt, Serge Sauneron places a photograph from the Archives Photographiques, in which a goddess is shown in tree form, or emerging from the tree, with a vase dispensing water for a woman kneeling underneath the branches (111). A tree goddess bestowing water upon the fervent must trace back to earlier myths in more ancient Egyptian history. Massey writes:

The tree of dewy coolness, the Sycamore of Hathor, or of Tefnut, was the evergreen of Dawn, and the evergreen as fuel may be full of fire […]. The Water of Heaven and the Tree of Dawn precede personification, and the name of Tefnut, from Tef (to drip, drop, spit, exude, shed, effuse, supply) and Nu, for Heaven, shows that Tefnut represented the dew that fell from the Tree of Dawn. She is the giver of the dew; hence the water of dawn is said to be the water of Tefnut (29).

Egyptian myth, as all other global myths, has its singularities and in its uniqueness represents tree related deities as being both feminine and masculine (Osiris in the djed, sycamore, persea, erica or tamarisk, Ra and the sacred persea, Taht in palm tree, the palm of Amsu, Geb in shrubs and plants, Horus in papyrus, and Unbu in golden bough—although admittedly stressed more in the feminine form: Isis in the persea tree, Hathor, Nut and Tefnut in the sycamore). Most other myths represent the tree as feminine or masculine, not as both, and the majority see trees as feminine.

Sacred Grove on Primeval Mound: Pinch states: “The trees that are sometimes shown growing out of the Mound may be the sacred grove from which falcon gods such as Horus and Sopdu are said to have emerged” (180). She continues: “This Sopdu falcon [warrior god] dwelled in a sacred grove, which probably grew on the Primeval Mound” (205).

Horizon Trees: Pinch writes of Akhet, a transitional horizon for gods and the dead, which consisted of a Double Horizon: “the Western Horizon “where the sun god died at sunset and the Eastern Horizon “where he was reborn at sunrise. The standard image of the horizon was a sun disk between two mountain peaks. Two shining trees grew on these mountains, and the Double Horizon was guarded by a double sphinx or twin lions” (99-100). Massey states: “These are equivalent to the Kamite two sycamore-trees of the North and South, as types of the original division of the earth, and of the later earth and heaven; also called the two trees in the garden of the beginning” (83).

Ished tree: Pinch states: “The key event was the slaughter of the chaos monster Apophis under the ished tree. This was a sacred tree growing in Heliopolis that was linked to the destiny of all things” (112). She goes on with: “One terrible night Ra himself took the form of the Great Tom Cat and fought the Apophis serpent under the ished tree at Heliopolis. He sliced up Apophis with his knife and split the ished tree in two, creating the twin trees of the horizon” (134). And continues with:

Seshat was the goddess who measured and recorded the world. […] Seshat was an assistant or female counterpart of Thoth, the god of wisdom and knowledge. She and Thoth fixed the length of a king’s reign by inscribing his name on the leaves of the ished tree at Heliopolis (190).

Pinch states that Thoth and Seshat knew future and past, inscribing the fate of newborns on birthing bricks and kings’ reigns on leaves of the ished tree (210).

Willow tree: Pinch writes: “In Heliopolis, the center of solar worship, the benu bird was said to perch on the benben stone, a kind of primitive obelisk, or in the branches of a sacred willow tree” (117).

The date palm was considered to be Tree of the Year or Calendar Tree (new branch each month), according to Ernst and Johana Lehner in Folklore and Symbolism of Flowers, Plants and Trees (26). Neumann writes: “The goddess as the tree that confers nourishment on souls, as the sycamore or date palm, is one of the central figures of Egyptian art. But the motherhood of the tree consists not only in nourishing; it also comprises generation, and the tree goddess gives birth to the sun” (The Great Mother 241). Pinch states: “[Seshat] sometimes carries a palm frond carved with notches to mark the passing years” (190). Hart writes: “[Re] also sails past gods holding palm-branch scepters who are responsible for carving trees or plants” (54).

Persea tree is considered a symbol of everlasting fame (Lehner & Lehner 45). Thoth, Safekh “A sacred tree in ancient Egyptian belief that was often shown in temple scenes of the king’s coronation. The king’s name was inscribed by the gods on the persea tree. Opinions about which tree in the natural world the Persea represents vary” (Mercantante 121).

Nut as Tree of Heaven: In speaking of Nut, “as tree of heaven,” Neumann writes: “The earthly tree with its roots in the depths, and the astral tree of the heights, are symbols of time” (The Great Mother 244-45). The females are Hathor and Nut, who personate the divine mother, not the human mother, in the tree, as the giver of food and drink provided by the Mother-earth (Massey 140). Involution (making things or being more complicated) and evolution (pattern formed by series of movements): each of the two horizon trees represents one of these processes according to Alvin Boyd Kuhn in The Tree Of Knowledge. The trees might also aptly be said to represent the god within and the god without.

Pine tree: Frazer writes:

B ut O s i r i s w a s m o r e t h a n a s p i r i t o f t h e c o r n ; h e w a s a l s o a t r e e- s p i r i t , a n d t h i s m a y p e r h a p s h a v e b e e n h i s p r i m i t i v e c h a r a c t e r , s i n c e t h e w o r s h i p o f t r e e s i s n a t u r a l l y o l d e r i n t h e h i s t o r y o f r e l i g i o n t h a n t h e w o r s h i p o f t h e c e r e a l s . T h e c h a r a c t e r o f O s i r i s a s a t r e e- s p i r i t w a s r e p r e s e n t e d v e r y g r a p h i c a l l y i n a c e r e m o n y d e s c r i b e d b y F i r m i c u s M a t e r n u s . A p i n e-t r e e h a v i n g b e e n c u t d o w n , t h e c e n t r e w a s h o l l o w e d o u t , a n d w i t h t h e w o o d t h u s e x c a v a t e d a n i m a g e o f O s i r i s w a s m a d e , w h i c h w a s t h e n b u r i e d l i k e a c o r p s e i n t h e h o l l o w o f t h e t r e e (254).

von Franz also details the same type of ceremony. She writes: “In late antiquity, for instance, in many Egyptian towns there were rituals during which a pine tree was cut down and hollowed out, representing the body of Isis, or the coffin—the coffin is the mother goddess, as you know” (73).

Erica tree: Frazer writes:

T h e c e r e m o n y o f c u t t i n g t h e t r e e , a s d e s c r i b e d b y F i r m i c u s M a t e r n u s , a p p e a r s t o b e a l l u d e d t o b y P l u t a r c h . I t w a s p r o b a b l y t h e r i t u a l c o u n t e r p a r t o f t h e m y t h i c a l d i s c o v e r y o f t h e b o d y o f O s i r i s e n c l o s e d i n t h e e r i c a-t r e e . I n t h e h a l l o f O s i r i s a t D e n d e r a h t h e c o f f i n c o n t a i n i n g t h e h a w k- h e a d e d m u m m y o f t h e g o d i s c l e a r l y d e p i c t e d a s e n c l o s e d w i t h i n a t r e e , a p p a r e n t l y a c o n i f e r , t h e t r u n k a n d b r a n c h e s o f w h i c h a r e s e e n a b o v e a n d b e l o w t h e c o f f i n (254).

Sycamore: Tree of Life, Hathor, Nut (provided souls drink and nourishment after death) (Lehner & Lehner 49). The sycamore grew up around the dead Osiris at Byblos in his sarcophagus according to Plutarch (Hooke 68). Mackenzie writes: “In the Nineteenth Dynasty Thoth was shown recording the name of a Pharaoh on the sacred sycamore. He must have been, therefore, at one time a tree spirit, like Osiris. Tree spirits, as well as corn spirits, were manifestations of the moon god” (8). He continues:

The Egyptian tree worshippers conceived of a tree goddess which gave food cakes and poured out drink to disembodied Kas. The influence of this ancient cult is traced in the Osiris and Bata folk tales. In late Dynastic times tree worship was revived when the persisting beliefs of the common people gained ascendancy, and it has not yet wholly disappeared in the Delta region. The sacred tree and the holy well are still regarded with reverence (56).

And goes on:

An immense sycamore tree towers before [the dead soul in the Kingdom of the Dead] with great clusters of fruit amidst its luxuriant foliage. As he approaches it a goddess leans out from the trunk as from a window, displaying the upper part of her body. In her hands she holds a tray heaped with cakes and fruit; she has also a pot of clear fresh water. The soul must needs eat of the magic food and drink of the magic water, and thus become a servant of the gods, if he is to proceed farther. If he rejects the hospitality of the tree goddess, he will have to return again to the dark and narrow tomb whence he came, and lead forever there a solitary and joyless existence (58).

Neumann states: “Hathor, the sycamore goddess, who is the ‘house of Horus’ and as such gives birth to Horus, bears the sun on her head; the top of the tree is the place of the sun’s birth, the nest from which the phoenix-heron arises” (The Great Mother 241). Neumann discusses the sycamore as being represented by the Book of the Dead as two turquoise trees standing at the eastern gate of heaven; the “tree of the worlds” upon which sit the gods, which links the sycamore with the birth of Ra as the sun god; and that it is identical with the goddess of heaven, Nut, the “coffin goddess of rebirth.” He continues to correlate the two in their sycamore form with Osiris in his Djed pillar form and states: “For Osiris is also a tree god and a god contained in a tree” (The Great Mother 242). Mercantante writes:

The sycamore tree was sacred to Ra, Hathor, Isis, and Mut. In one work the goddess Mut is said to pour water from the sycamore tree over both the deceased and his Ba, or soul, which is portrayed as a human-headed bird. Ra appeared each morning from between two sycamore trees of turquoise (170).

On page 99, Mut is depicted as rising or standing upright in the middle of a tree, coming up out of its inner trunk, curiously enough, this appearance from a tree is not explained or even described. Pinch writes: “In the Book of the Dead and in decorated tombs [Nut] was shown in a paradise garden as the goddess of the sycamore-fig tree. In this role, Nut gave water and food to refresh the newly dead and strengthen them for their journey through the underworld” (175).

EndNote 6—History and Egyptian myth
Even archeological records are disputed. In considering what the following mention of archeological evidence might mean to the study of mythology, one needs a bit more detail in order to formulate an informed opinion. Ashby writes: “[..] new archeological evidence shows that the worship of the Supreme Being as Asar[/Osiris], Horus, Hathor and Aset[/Isis] all date back to an ancient period in the pre-dynastic period perhaps dating back to 50,000 B.C.E.” (206). I think Egyptian history definitely predates what is commonly accepted as history.

Sauneron discusses the nomes, lists or catalogues that are “veritable monographs of religious geography,” identifying the most famous as being at the temple of Edfu. Contained within each of these lists, named along with Gods and Goddesses worshipped, priests and priestesses, sacred ships, principal feasts, religious commandments, and place specifications, were the names of the sacred treed that grew on the holy places (148). Thus, tree worship appears to have been replaced, even during the Egyptian dynasties, if not before their recorded history, by a view of trees as sacred, although in some myths, the deity is the tree and vice versa.

EndNote 8—A Treed Osiris in the Temple of Denderah
The Temple of Denderah shows eighteen scenes of the resurrection of Asar/Osiris, as reproduced by Ashby, in which four contain tree references. Four other scenes also represent Asar/Osiris in an ithyphallic state, in all four swallow-hawks accompany him and in three the swallow-hawked Aset/Isis hovers above his phallus. Additionally, in two of the scenes, lotus flowers are included and in one of these, a papyrus plant as well (allegedly representing both Lower and Upper Egypt). The appearance of plants and trees in a third or more of the scenes, speaks to the lessening importance of trees and Osiris’ vegetative rejuvenating function, but, nonetheless, it still speaks that importance.

The old image of the tree continues to resurface in Osiris’ myth, as does the symbol of Osiris as tree and Djed pillar. In the first of the tree-related scenes, Asar/Osiris lays supine on a lion table with a persea tree at his head and his soul at the top of the tree (from this one could say the Bata legend evolved). The next scene shows Heru/Horus, Aset/Isis and Nebthet/Nephthys raising the pillar of Asar/Osiris and raising Asar/Osiris himself. In the next tree-related scene Asar/Osiris lies supine as a hawk-headed mummy and underneath his lion-headed bier three trees (which could be symbolic tamarisk bushes) grow. The next tree-related scene shows Asar/Osiris in his chest on the lion-headed bier with Aset/Isis on a column at his head, and outside the bier, Asar/Osiris in Djed pillar form, holding crook and flail (70-71).

EndNote 9—Tamarisk tree
The Tamarisk, genus Tamarix of the family Tamaricaceae, is pentamerous, which means it has its parts (leaves and petals) in fives, an obvious connection to fingers and toes and humanity; it is also a deciduous tree, which means it follows a predictable pattern of shedding leaves and then re-growing them. After suffering being cut down, the tree will rejuvenate and grow. These elements alone would not be enough to convince me of the identity of the tree that enveloped Asar/Osiris, for within the stories pertaining to this episode, there appears to be an element of the impossible or miraculous that is lost in translation choices. The major problem is that the Tamarisk does not ordinarily grow extremely large. “With a height of rarely more than 5-6 m, and sometimes found in bush form, this species is recognised by its small leaves growing on very thin branches, which give the tree a permanently stringy look, and on occasions seems as if it has died. […] A single, large tamarisk can transpire up to 1100 liters of water per day. […] A mature saltcedar plant can produce 600,000 seeds annually and can become more than 100 years old” (

The following two quotes are excerpted from Larry Stevens, a consulting ecologist for the Exotic Tamarisk on the Colorado Plateau, an online publication.

Its seeds are short-lived (less than 2 months in summer), have no dormancy requirements, and germinate in less than 24 hr. Saltcedar seeds require a moist, fine-grained (silt or smaller particle size) substrate for eccesis, such as is found in southwestern riparian habitats after flood waters subside (Stevens 1989a, b).

Such soil is also found along the Nile and surrounding area.

Saltcedar was more drought tolerant and inundation tolerant than any native species. Some saltcedar survived more than two years of root-crown inundation in the Grand Canyon during high water events from 1983-85 (Stevens and Waring 1988) […].

In addition to the right soil, the Nile also inundates regularly, and so it seems appropriate to identify the tree as the tamarisk, unless one considers the mammoth size of the tree in the myth. Nonetheless, in examining the tamarisk, even briefly, one can see obvious affiliations with Osiris in the productivity, regeneration, tenacity, and connection to water (Nile and inundation). Perhaps part of the power of the myth revolves around the idea of an image of a gigantic tamarisk tree supporting a palace, when in normal everyday occurrences, the shrub can be a nuisance.

Note 1—Mythology Mirrors Human Consciousness
If one accepts that mythology began through observing phenomenon by the earliest of human ancestors, then, it would follow that the pre-historical forms of natural things—before the advent of sculpture or the arts in enduring materials—to be worshipped as representatives of deities would be the most majestic and powerful occurrences in nature: the sun and moon, stars, seasons, cycles, mountains, trees, oceans, rivers, storms and so forth. This would then equate to the idea advanced by Frazer, Jung, Eliade and Campbell of a naïve or primitive human mind, or, as I prefer to call it an underdeveloped state of consciousness. Such a state of consciousness is predicated upon drives and instincts, with limited awareness of what a deity does or means by its manifestations, and certainly lasted much longer than any stage thereafter. Surely, we can map developments in the consciousness of humanity, as Coppin and Nelson have done in The Art of Inquiry: […]. Only after these first deity embodiments failed to represent the deities well enough would humans and animals and other living creatures on the planet be seen as potent examples of the personification of the deities. This would equate to the developments in human consciousness as seen in shortly preceding and following the Iron or Bronze Ages, and, I think is exemplified by the development of memory and speech and related methodologies. Science and other higher thinking naturally comes much later than the animism common in earliest cultures, and would represent another phase in the development of human consciousness. I think that Egyptian myth is no different in its process of development and surely the forms we see now carved and etched on various stone and wood found its predecessors.
Note 14: Pre-historic models ( lead back 100,000 years or so.

If such a proposed progression of mythological development mirroring that of human consciousness is accepted, and one also accepts the notion that myths represent the logical life of the soul (Wolfgang Giegerich), or that mythology is a map of the soul’s progression in life, then we can effectively map the progression of the human soul through analyzing and interpreting prior mythologies.

Note 2—Universal Being
Ashby relates the following way of classifying parts of the human being, universe and human spirit. Universal Self, leads to the human being: Causal Body (Heaven), Astral Body (Duat) and Physical Body (Earth and Ta), which correlate with Neter (Universal Self), which leads to the universe: Heaven, Duat (Underworld) {unconscious mind}, and Earth (Ta). He then provides nine different classifications of the human spirit: Ba, Sahu, Khaibit, Khu, Ka, Sekhem, Ab, Khat and Ren. These can be grouped as follows: Causal Body (Ba, Sahu, Khu and Khaibit), Astral Body (Ka, Sekhem and Ab) {mind}, and Physical Body (Khat and Ren) (246-47).

Note 3—The New Osiris Tree
Neter-Pet-Ta-Duat is Universal Self-Heaven (Grosser Astral Plane)-Earth-Underworld (Subtler Astral Plane) and signifies the new name of the mystical tree from within and without that Asar/Osiris grows from, into and is raised from. In such format, it is very much like considering Asar/Osiris in his form of Neter-Pet-Ta-Duat Tree as an origination of Kabbalah and the idea of the Shekinah, Yggdrasil, The Unification Tree (Holy Tree {Cross}-Knowledge Tree-Life Tree of Christianity and/or partially Judaism and Islam), Bodhi Tree and numerous other global Cosmic Trees.

Note 4—The Sycamore Song
The following song is excerpted from MacKenzie’s Egyptian Myth and Legend.

A sycamore sang to a lady fair, / And its words were dropping like honey dew. / ‘Now ruby red is the fruit I bear / All in my bower for you. / ‘Papyri green are my leaves arrayed, / And branch and stem like to opal / Now come and rest in my cooling shade / The dream of your heart to dream. / ‘A letter of love will my lady fair / Send to the one who will happy / Saying: ‘Oh, come to my garden rare / And sit in the shade with me! / “‘Fruit I will gather for your delight, / Bread I will break and pour out wine, / I’ll bring you the perfumed flow’rs / On this festal day divine.’ / “My lady alone with her lover will / His voice is sweet and his words / Oh, I am silent of all I see, / Nor tell of the things I hear!’ (42-43).

Note 5—Osirian Festivals
The following is excerpted from James Frazer’s Golden Bough.

T h e r i t e s l a s t e d e i g h t e e n d a y s , f r o m t h e t w e l f t h t o t h e t h i r t i e t h o f t h e m o n t h K h o i a k , a n d s e t f o r t h t h e n a t u r e o f O s i r i s i n h i s t r i p l e a s p e c t a s d e a d , d i s m e m b e r e d , a n d f i n a l l y r e c o n s t i t u t e d b y t h e u n i o n o f h i s s c a t t e r e d l i m b s . I n t h e f i r s t o f t h e s e a s p e c t s h e w a s c a l l e d C h e n t-A m e n t ( K h e n t i-A m e n t i ) , i n t h e s e c o n d O s i r i s-S e p , a n d i n t h e t h i r d S o k a r i ( S e k e r ) . S m a l l i m a g e s o f t h e g o d w e r e m o u l d e d o f s a n d o r v e g e t a b l e e a r t h a n d c o r n , t o w h i c h i n c e n s e w a s s o m e t i m e s a d d e d ; h i s f a c e w a s p a i n t e d y e l l o w a n d h i s c h e e k-b o n e s g r e e n . T h e s e i m a g e s w e r e c a s t i n a m o u l d o f p u r e g o l d , w h i c h r e p r e s e n t e d t h e g o d i n t h e f o r m o f a m u m m y , w i t h t h e w h i t e c r o w n o f E g y p t o n h i s h e a d . T h e f e s t i v a l o p e n e d o n t h e t w e l f t h d a y o f K h o i a k w i t h a c e r e m o n y o f p l o u g h i n g a n d s o w i n g . T w o b l a c k c o w s w e r e y o k e d t o t h e p l o u g h , w h i c h w a s m a d e o f t a m a r i s k w o o d , w h i l e t h e s h a r e w a s o f b l a c k c o p p e r . A b o y s c a t t e r e d t h e s e e d . O n e e n d o f t h e f i e l d w a s s o w n w i t h b a r l e y , t h e o t h e r w i t h s p e l t , a n d t h e m i d d l e w i t h f l a x . D u r i n g t h e o p e r a t i o n t h e c h i e f c e l e b r a n t r e c i t e d t h e r i t u a l c h a p t e r o f " t h e s o w i n g o f t h e f i e l d s . " A t B u s i r i s o n t h e t w e n t i e t h o f K h o i a k s a n d a n d b a r l e y w e r e p u t i n t h e g o d ' s " g a r d e n , " w h i c h a p p e a r s t o h a v e b e e n a s o r t o f l a r g e f l o w e r- p o t . T h i s w a s d o n e i n t h e p r e s e n c e o f t h e c o w-g o d d e s s S h e n t y , r e p r e s e n t e d s e e m i n g l y b y t h e i m a g e o f a c o w m a d e o f g i l t s y c a m o r e w o o d w i t h a h e a d l e s s h u m a n i m a g e i n i t s i n s i d e . " T h e n f r e s h i n u n d a t i o n w a t e r w a s p o u r e d o u t o f a g o l d e n v a s e o v e r b o t h t h e g o d d e s s a n d t h e ' g a r d e n , ' a n d t h e b a r l e y w a s a l l o w e d t o g r o w a s t h e e m b l e m o f t h e r e s u r r e c t i o n o f t h e g o d a f t e r h i s b u r i a l i n t h e e a r t h , ' f o r t h e g r o w t h o f t h e g a r d e n i s t h e g r o w t h o f t h e d i v i n e s u b s t a n c e . ' " O n t h e t w e n t y- s e c o n d o f K h o i a k , a t t h e e i g h t h h o u r , t h e i m a g e s o f O s i r i s , a t t e n d e d b y t h i r t y-f o u r i m a g e s o f d e i t i e s , p e r f o r m e d a m y s t e r i o u s v o y a g e i n t h i r t y-f o u r t i n y b o a t s m a d e o f p a p y r u s , w h i c h w e r e i l l u m i n a t e d b y t h r e e h u n d r e d a n d s i x ty - f i v e l i g h t s . O n t h e t w e n t y-f o u r t h o f K h o i a k , a f t e r s u n s e t , t h e e f f i g y o f O s i r i s i n a c o f f i n o f m u l b e r r y w o o d w a s l a i d i n t h e g r a v e , a n d a t t h e n i n t h h o u r o f t h e n i g h t t h e e f f i g y w h i c h h a d b e e n m a d e a n d d e p o s i t e d t h e y e a r b e f o r e w a s r e m o v e d a n d p l a c e d u p o n b o u g h s o f s y c a m o r e . L a s t l y , o n t h e t h i r t i e t h d a y o f K h o i a k t h e y r e p a i r e d t o t h e h o l y s e p u l c h r e , a s u b t e r r a n e a n c h a m b e r o v e r w h i c h a p p e a r s t o h a v e g r o w n a c l u m p o f P e r s e a- t r e e s . E n t e r i n g t h e v a u l t b y t h e w e s t e r n d o o r , t h e y l a i d t h e c o f f i n e d e f f i g y o f t h e d e a d g o d r e v e r e n t l y o n a b e d o f s a n d i n t h e c h a m b e r . S o t h e y l e f t h i m t o h i s r e s t , a n d d e p a r t e d f r o m t h e s e p u l c h r e b y t h e e a s t e r n d o o r . T h u s e n d e d t h e c e r e m o n i e s i n t h e m o n t h o f K h o i a k (251).

Note 6—On Bata
In the Bata tale, Bata ‘keeps’ his soul in an acacia tree blossom, which is cut down through trickery, and then transforms into either two sycamore or persea trees, during his transformational period of different forms, in which his ex-wife continually directs his slaying. His ex-wife desires the two trees be carved into two seats in the palace. When the trees are cut down, a splinter falls into her mouth and she becomes pregnant. Neumann writes: “[…] like the ocean, blossom and tree are archetypal places of mythical birth” (The Great Mother 241). Osiris and Bata both transform into bull and tree, among other manifestations. Neumann purports that Osiris’s emblem is the felled tree and that Isis found Osiris in the form of a tree in Byblos (The Origins and History of Consciousness 72). Neumann wants to correlate Bata and Osiris with Adonis, Attis and Tammuz as vegetation deities in relation with the Great Mother (ibid 73).

Osiris appears in a coffin in Byblos that bumps into a small shrub or tree and rests there. The tree quickly encases the coffin (variously identified as a tamarisk, Erica, sycamore or persea tree), while in the Bata legend, his soul hides in the blossom of an acacia tree, and later, in his second or third major transformation (the first being from human to human/acacia blossom or seed, the second from human to bull, and the third from bull’s blood to sycamore or persea trees), he becomes a pair of sycamore trees. [EndNote 15]
EndNote 15: Hathor, Nut and Tefnut are the goddesses most often affiliated with the sycamore tree, although Isis sometimes also makes an appearance as a sycamore goddess.


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