Creating the New Earth Together

Posts tagged ‘Blue Shaman Trilogy’

The Shaman’s Gift of Healing, Page 2

Tony picContinuing the story of the historical “Fall” of Man from grace and stature as Hugh Malafry retells it through two of the main characters in the first book of his fascinating Blue Shaman Trilolgy, we left off in the middle of a dialogue between shaman Morgon Kara and Maia, his consort in the “Otherworld,” as Morgan Kara contemplates the power of the stone of sovereignty, which he lifted from around the neck of the blue shaman Caron as he slept by his fire after Morgon had rescued him from certain death. Maia is telling Morgon Kara the legendary story as handed down through the “Sisters” of the Blood Royal. Here’s the second of three installments of this excerpt from Stone of Sovereignty.

Many generations had come and gone since the shaman first crossed over into the place of shaping, and learned of the pattern the Makers established to inform the things of the earth. He learned, too, of the burning time [of the Papal Inquisition when the Roman Catholic Church burned to death thousands of men, women and children and the Cathars of Languedoc as heretics) and of the great transgression, when to preserve life man was confined to the outer realms, and the Makers set a veil between the worlds through which few might pass. Other shamans had come into the place of shaping before him: Some to heal the wounds of the exploited, some to exploit the hurts of the wounded. Morgan Kara saw his art as a gift of white magic. He came seeking power to heal the human soul; he understood the ills of this world are rooted in its misalignment with the patterns of the other, so there is shadow where there should be light. . . .

On another journey Morgon Kara again came upon Maia weeping on a last hill of green, at the edge of a desert that stretched to the horizon. It is always wise to begin with stillness, so he sat and watched with her in silence. Through her eyes he saw how here and there the desert advanced, and here and there relented, but overall the wasteland grew, and unchecked would overwhelm the world.

“What have you shown me?”

“The end,” she said.

“Of the world?”

“Fear engenders greed, and greed lays wastes the earth: I fear the pattern of the Makers for the keeping of the earth is broken.”

“How can that be?”

“Everyone seeks his own and none takes responsibility: The burden is too great, and these worlds will perish.”

“Can the pattern of the Makers be restored?”

“Think you shaman to heal this?” she asked bitterly. “There is not water enough to bring life back to this wasteland.”

He was overwhelmed by her mood of desolation. Seven days he sat with her, considering what might be done, and all that time his body lay in a trance, so that those who watched over him began to think him lost in his journey, as sometimes happens to a shaman who goes out too far.

“Is it not for the Makers to set this right?” he asked. “Will they now give all over to death? Shall Erlik Khan in his castle of black clay alone rule this realm, and earth become a barren stone?”

“What do you know of the Makers,” she said.

“Only that they have made these realms.”

“And withdrawing have left us desolate,” she said. “The Sisters have sought an answer to the Makers. We know it is in their power to restore the world they made. Nothing is withheld them, but what they choose themselves to deny. We know they exist and have sought them, but they will not reveal themselves to us nor intercede on our behalf, but make us bear the burden of the law of creation.”

“The law?”

“Of reaping what we sow,” she said.

“Who are the Makers?”

“Those in whom the essence of the world is inborn.”

Maia casts blame upon the Makers as though they were withholding pity and forgiveness from errant man and refusing to undo the hurt he had brought upon himself and the earth.  

He pressed her, but it was all she would say. She knew nothing more, or did not care to speak of it. They sat silently together until Morgon Kara knew his time was short, and he must find his way back or perish in the flesh.

As he rose to depart Maia clasped his hand, her face bright with passion. “In us let the worlds be one.” She joined with him as a goddess takes a mortal lover. She did not ask, but he did not object: Who can resist a goddess? From that moment, of brittle bone and fragile flesh she enlarged the soul of her shaman with such influence as she had, to foster the healing of the heart. With her he felt complete; alone, Morgon Kara was never alone.

Maia longed to renew the world, and would do so by shaping her shaman to that purpose. And so it was there came a time when she revealed to him what had become of man. “There was a time, in the First Time, when the human body was not as it now is,” she confided. Maia sat with Morgon Kara at the well beneath the tree where she first met him. He remembered how she had then paused to feel the sun on her face, tied up her dark hair, and set it with a silver pin, while he watched and waited her revelation. “In the First Time the body was less dense,” she said, “and of a subtle substance infused with light. In his first form man was conscious of all the worlds and not the earth alone, where now he survives only as material man in exile from what he once was.”

“What became of him?” He was fascinated with her beauty and the tale she told, and could not takes his eyes from her.

“I know only what the Sisters know of this,” she said, ritually, “and what befell man is a matter for the Makers, but we do know that in the First Time he was given the power of the shaping, though 
within limits, for he had not yet come into the fullness of his gifts.

“He transgressed?”

Maia nodded pensively. “Had he not no evil would have befallen him.”

“What was his transgression?”

Maia took the green leaf that had fallen on her lap, and with her finger tips carefully traced the stem and veins, following her thoughts to an answer. “I know only what the Sisters know of this,” she said. “We know there came a time when man was told to refrain from the making, until a cycle bearing on the seven worlds was fulfilled. He was warned that the shaping of new patterns was untimely, and would gravely alter the weave of life.”

“He didn’t listen,” Morgan Kara said.

She shook her head. “Sadly, he never does.” Her dark hair came loose and she fumbled with it a moment, then let it fall; she turned to him hands folded on her lap. “There were those who thought they knew better, and could improve upon the design of the Makers. They believed the time was right to do what they intended and acted willfully, out of harmony with what was unfolding in the whole. All that has become of the earth is because of this, and has yet to run its course.”

Morgan Kara asked specifically what they had done, but she feared what she had revealed to him, and on that occasion would speak only of the transgression itself.

Another time, she spoke to him of how the world was in the First Time, before the realms were sundered. She told him how man in subtle form had the gift to enter into the life of all living things over which he was guardian in the earth, so that he could take pleasure in their lives, and they in his presence.

“Do you mean enter into bird flight, or a dolphin in the sea?” Morgan Kara asked.

“Even into the constancy of stone, the flowering of a rose, or the great green life of trees,” she said. “And this gift was given so he might understand from within, the beauty that is woven into the essence of all living. By this means he was shown how the patterns of things fit together, to learn to shape new forms and imbue them with life; for the creation is in man even as man is in the creation, and he was made to keep the way of life from within all living.”

“Now everything flees from him,” Morgan Kara said.

” And with good reason,” she replied.  (To be continued)

These words gave me pause as I read them.

“Fear engenders greed, and greed lays wastes the earth: I fear the pattern of the Makers for the keeping of the earth is broken. . . .  Everyone seeks his own and none takes responsibility: The burden is too great, and these worlds will perish.”

Have we broken the earth beyond its ability to sustain living beings? Have we gone past the point of no return? What will become of the human race? Is it in the Makers’ pattern that the human species be allowed to go extinct to make way for a new beginning? If that is our future, then so let it be.  What we have started has to run its course. As Maia says in the next installment,

“It is a law of creation that the creator is responsible for his creation, so long as it shall continue to exist, and this applies as much to the Makers as to man.”

We may well end up exiting with the demise of our battered and poisoned habitat unless we make a radical shift in the way we live on planet Earth. As was stated by New York City Mayor Michael Bloomberg in an interview with Matt Lauer this Sunday morning — and I paraphrase:  “We’ve become a ‘Me Now’ people with no concern for our children’s future.” We want what we want NOW, no matter the consequences to future generations, our own progeny. What will become of us is being decided NOW by us. As we sow, so shall we reap. It’s all in God’s hand, isn’t it?

“Can you make whole what has been broken?”  [Lady Esclarmonde asks the blue shaman. His reply is wise.]  ”God has made a whole and it cannot be otherwise,” he said. “I will give it to God: He will determine in this matter what is to be.”

Until my next post, 

Be love. Be loved.

Anthony

Read my Health Light Newsletter online at LiftingTones.com. This issue features my input to the conversation around Obamacare entitled The Affordable “Disease Care” Law. When you think about it, so-called “health insurance” isn’t so much about care of our health as it is about managing human diseases. I think you’ll agree with my take on it. 

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The Shaman’s Gift of Healing, Page 1

09 May bowls

I apologize to my blog followers and readers for being so long in posting a new article. We’ve been on a trip to the Pacific Northwest Coast to spend time with our boys and grandchildren in Oregon and California. It’s good to be back and writing again. 

I’ve been called a shaman because I use frequency-shifting sound healing and subtle energy attunement techniques in my work as a healer. But I know from my own profound experience over fifty years of service to humanity that there’s something deeper and more to the purpose of healing than the modality of technique in the healing work of a true shaman. A true shaman offers healing of the rift between two worlds. The invisible world of Reality, wherein lies the divine design for perfect health and happiness, and the visible world of ailing flesh, suffering only from a separation from its Creator. That separation, however, is but an illusion — an illusion, nevertheless, that shapes the flesh and the world in which it suffers. In the real world, there is no separation. This paradoxical condition is what sets up the illusion out of which we turn heaven into a hell here on earth. It is the shaman’s role to transcend the illusory world and stand in divine identity in the invisible realm of spirit to facilitate the shaping of patterns of light to the unique healing needs of his client. I was confirmed in this awareness as I read Hugh Malafry’s novels.  

THE BLUE SHAMAN

I’ve just finished my second reading of the first book of Hugh Malafry’s trilogy Blue Shaman, The Stone of Sovereignty, and started my second reading of book two, Caverns of Ornolac. As in all second readings of a thrilling and complex novel, I saw so much more than what I did in my first reading. 

What draws me back to this author’s trilogy is the otherworldly setting for a very complex story. To sojourn in another world, the world of the shaman, is such a refreshing reprieve from the world of CNN, MSNBC, and Fox News; even BBC and PBS. That world has little to offer of hope for the future of mankind. The Real world is the invisible one, coverage of which is virtually impossible by any news agency. Malafry does exactly that, interweaving morsels of profound wisdom and simple truths as he unfurls a dialogue between characters. Here are a few of those jewels of wisdom:

“Sometimes a life’s work takes more than a life’s time.” 

“Time yields to purpose.”

“To weave light in patterns, tie water in knots, and shape the ten thousand things.” [A worthy, though rightly ambitious, sense of mission and purpose.]

“Give me your heart,” Maia said [to Caron, the blue shaman], “and I will shape a world for you. . . .  It is no more than any woman asks of a man to whom she gives herself.”

Was it any wonder men shy from giving their heart to women: One moment she was lamb, another lion, and one never knew when one or the other might rise in her or to what end.

. . . when you have lost your centering in life, everywhere is nowhere, and the world is desolate.

“Is it not the way of the warrior to be at peace within, even when he knows he must fight?”

“Can you make whole what has been broken?”  [Lady Esclarmonde asks the blue shaman. His reply is wise.]  “God has made a whole and it cannot be otherwise,” he said. “I will give it to God: He will determine in this matter what is to be.”

“You must let go your shadow. To cross over [into the “In-world”] you must see yourself on the other side.”

“Always walk into the light.” [Even though — and particularly when — you know you will lose your life and all that you have invested in making yourself into who and what you think you are . . . and your life will never be the same.]

Life on this side of the veil that separates us from the “In-world” is portrayed in the story of the blue shaman as the illusion it is. What separates also connects. There is something most wonderful on the other side of the veil. The loss of illusion, for one thing, though probably scary for mortals who find meaning and purpose in making one’s way through the shadows of the mind-made world of survival. That mortal, the human ego, feels justifiably threatened by the Light at the end of the tunnel described by those who tell of their near-death encounters, because it knows that it’s curtains for it. I wonder if I will feel that same hesitancy the blue shaman had to walk into the light when I make my transition from this world to the world of Light. Not so much, I should think, for someone who has walked into the Light of Reality in the face of sure loss of his world as he knows it in order to discover and realize who he is as a divine being. The story takes you to such a place in consciousness.

THE INSEPARABLE MALE AND FEMALE

For me, the entire trilogy is a story about the relationship between the masculine and feminine as they partner in shaping their worlds. It seems the Orion shaman is always being challenged to master the sweet influences of his Pleiadian counterpart — who seems, interestingly enough, always to live in the Otherworld, which dynamic of the story tends to suggest that our “soul mates” do not incarnate with us. Hmm. Another interesting portrayal of the male-female relationship is that it’s always feminine entities who meet and greet the shaman at the threshold between the worlds to clear him for worthiness of passage and to guide him in his journey. It is through the heart, love’s domain and our feminine part, that we enter the kingdom of heaven. “Blessed are the pure in heart for they shall see God.” — Jesus

There’s truth to this in the way a woman tests her man before allowing him into her heart and inner sanctum as a worthy partner in creating her world in what is obviously a man’s world. Malafry portrays this “battle of the sexes,” but not without resolution.  I love his resolution toward the end of the book. Much like the riddle of getting the goose out of the bottle without killing the goose or breaking the bottle, at some level — like before the riddle maker created the illusion of a goose in a bottle — the goose is not in the bottle. Likewise, at some level there is no “battle of the sexes” but only the thrilling heavenly experience of a shared creativity. Again I say “Hmm.” 

TO RESTORE PARADISE — THE GRAIL QUEST

The most captivating chapter for me was “The Shaman,” because I could relate to the challenges of the shaman.  There’s a dialogue in it that alludes to a time when time and death were not and yet humans thought to change and improve upon their lives in Paradise. Whether or not one subscribes to this version of human history, Malafry weaves a believable and likely scenario of mankind’s fall from grace and stature. The path of the shaman is driven by an insatiable desire to make things right again and restore the world of mankind to the paradise of “The First Time.” Restoring the elusive Holy Grail of the blue “Stone of Sovereignty” into the hands of the Knights Templar for its ultimate return to the “Sisters of the Blood Royal” and the Grail King, is the blue shaman’s mission and purpose — very similar to that of Frodo in Lord of the Rings, as is the promise: the restoration of life and prosperity to Paradise.

As Malafry tells it, the story of the fall from grace is a haunting one for me, as if at some level in my consciousness I know I was there in the Beginning and when things literally went to hell.  I’ll let you read it as he tells it.

As in the Lord of the Rings where the ring is coveted for its power, shaman Morgon Kara takes the blue stone in his hands as the blue shaman Caron slept before his fire after he had rescued him from certain death.  The following dialogue is between Morgon Kara and Maia, his guide and empowering partner in shaping worlds to their own end. (I’ll have to share this excerpt on multiple pages.)

Perplexed, Morgon Kara opened his hand and held the jewel to the fire. It glowed with an inner fire that drew him deep into its triangular planes of light. Most precious stones were empty vessels, nothing more than the trace of their own experience as they passed age-to-age, hand to hand. But he knew the ancients had altered some to make record, others as focalizations of force, and a very few for use in the shaping of essence. This stone was all that and more, but never before had anything so eluded him. He sought the pattern of things that shimmered within, but could resolve nothing in the tantalizing play of light and shadow that beckoned but would not reveal. Even so, the stone was bound to Caron and would not let him die.

“Erlik Khan in his castle of black clay has reached out for you, but he is denied. Can a man defy death?” He knew something of the stone, for Maia had spoken of it, and he had long hoped it would come to his hand. He might have taken it from Hassan, but Maia said it destroyed those to whom it was not given; and though he doubted her in this, she had spoken of it with such awe, he feared to cross her was to lose her.

“There is a stone, in the old tongue called, Uru An-Na, light of heaven,” she had said. “It is in the world, and the world is in it.  This stone has the virtue to bind, loose and shape the world within, and so shape what is in the world without.”

“You are speaking in riddles, Maia,” he had said.

“It is exactly as I have said. In Uru An-Na the Ancients shaped the Holy Norm for this world. It exists so that no matter what is done by man, the patterns of Uru AnNa will prevail, and they have done this so that the earth shall not fail. Uru AnNa is the seal of the Makers, and a bar to the final trespass of the human will.”

“We must have this stone.”

“And it is well we should,” Maia agreed, “for the Sisters must yield to him who masters its influences. But the stone will not be taken by force.”

Morgon Kara closed his hand about the stone, remembering what Maia had told him. “Riddles, Maia, always riddles,” he always complained, but he had heard every word, and could repeat them still verbatim, even if he did not always at once understand her meaning. This was surely that stone. Hassan had taken it from a victim, who doubtless took it from another, but now it had been given to the one who had come across the wilderness in search of the lost Hallow of the Blood Royal.

Morgon Kara returned the jewel to the pouch at Caron’s neck . . . .

“Tell me again of the stone of the Makers.”

“I have told you the truth of Uru An-Na,” she said.

“Tell me again, how by its use the Ancients shaped living forms animated by fire from the center of the earth.”

“If it is as you have said what need of me?” It was her ritual to object. She would be courted. It was his ritual to reply. “It is for you, beloved, I seek understanding.”

(To be Continued)

I invite you to visit my other blog and read the feature article of Health Light Newsletter, “The Affordable ‘Disease Care’ Law.”  I am looking forward to my next post. Until then, 

Be love.  Be loved.

Anthony

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