"and the Gods walk the Earth as man"
Far asked me as we crossed the steel bridge high above the river; "Have you heard of Hanuki?" I was walking on the wooden beams, she was skipping on the outer edge, using energy tentacles to fly alongside the bridge, defying gravity.
I have heard of Hanu which means 'Low'; the Hanu tribe of American Indians were known as the low people until Buffalo Bill's circus was televised. It was they who were the horse riders. International fame bringing a good reputation to the Indians who had previously been decimated by white man. Not low people any more but cultural heroes.
"Hanuki is the Indian trickster god." she explained.
"Like Loki of the Norse pantheon." I replied. "Ki, it means energy. Qi Gong."
"He teaches through trickery." she added.
Far stepped off the bridge and reappeared beside me on the other side. I had by now become familiar enough with her powers not to be totally surprised. Living in the forest with witches opens ones perceptions. They do it because they have to.
We entered the housing estate. It is so rough that the police will not set foot in it. Gangs run the estate. We hadn't got so far as her friends flat before a gang of thugs set upon us. Four heavies.
"I think you'd better run." advised Far. I did too. I ran like the wind and was saved by my friends dog barking at my heels, saving me from running into a wall. I curled around the corner and found an alleyway open up before me. The heavies were inches behind me. I was wearing steel toe-caps and combat trousers. The pocket of which contained the biggest quartz crystal I have. It was heavy and had been flying about wildly as I ran. The alley closed in front of me. A dead end.
At this moment, Fate played her hand; the imbalance of my body freaking out as I ran into a dead end, the lurching of a crystal in my pocket, I fell sideways and twisted. I landed on my feet mid-run and facing a hidden right angle alleyway. Sure it had not been there a moment ago, opened up by crystal magick. My heart was beating, my adrenaline pumping. I was drawing from Necessity rising to the surface from my subconscious. I was actually laughing. I heard the heavies go splat into the wall and I gained some ground on them.
I had totally lost my bearings. Never having been to the housing estate before. I was worried out of my mind that the heavies were doing atrocious things to Far while I was running for my life. I was amazed that by accepting my subconscious and letting Hope take over my senses, that I had entered a magickal state of mind by which reality could shape-shift to provide me with empowerment. Surely a part of Far's teaching. My eyes were not working because my heart was surging toward where it needed to be. Only a few days ago I had said something about my heart being fickle because of its intent toward her not being as deep as I recognized her to need from a man. So this was her lesson.
We had entered the estate and turned right. I had backtracked to run away from the goons, all of whom looked like steroid muscle thuggery beyond my ability to fight. I had curved my way around into the alley, the wood part of a bow where the string is a straight line. And then I had turned abruptly left. By all reason I would be quite some distance from far. Instead, I found myself directly across from where we had entered the estate, in an open area. Not physically geographically possible but then physics don't mean much when dealing with witches and raw powa.
Once before I had experienced something like this, in Bristol city, when I had been arguing with Spirit that I did not want to be spending time with Vine that night, who was being a headfuck, and I had left due west to get away from her. I continued West toward the train station and somehow, by going in a straight line, ended up returning to the pub where I had left her in the company of her friend. I swear that the city itself had switched the streets around to keep me bound within the story that the fates were trying to force upon me, and which at the time I wanted nothing to do with. I have only ever previously heard about such incidences in Carlos Casteneda books. It's real, and its born of a deep seated subconscious power of the heart. As I said, we have to deepen our understanding of the heart so as to access those depths and levels of reality-interface. Which requires experience.
My eyes returned and I saw that there were a hundred windows looking down on me. I called out with Hope again, that somebody would witness my plight if nothing else. Then I was exhausted, and ran into a wall at exactly the same moment the boss thug caught up. I went down into a fetal position and he punched my back, once, cracking a rib. I decided that from this position I could spring to my feet and catch him with a powerful uppercut. I braced my whole body into the impact. I am a pacifist by nature, this was the first time I had decided to fight back, and all I could imagine was how terrible an injury I might do to the guy and a sense of remorse that I was going to have to hurt someone. I did a deal with my morality system which seemed to allow me to punch him at this point.
"Leave him alone!" came the voice and was pulling the guy off me.
I stood up and ran after Far. "Far!" I shouted. "Far!"
Far was right in front of me ringing her friends doorbell.
"They won't answer." she said.
I rang the doorbell. "Hello?" crackly intercom tanoy.
"Open the door!" I spoke, surprising myself that what spoke through me was a deeper need than my usual sleeping state. Buzz click swing. Door open. I could hardly believe the powa I met at that moment. Powa from within to change Reality to conform to Will. This is how Far teaches.
Inside was a bunch of guys wielding baseball bats. I decided not to say the obvious "where were you when I needed you?" and instead opted for; "Violence is not the answer." I received 'what the fuck?' looks from this second gang of heavies, these ones armed.
The crackly intercom tanoy buzzed again and the guy who had saved me was there offering me a cigarette. I declined because I'd given up smoking. If there was ever a time to test that... He told me his name; Moonglum. "You just saved my life, man. Thank you!" I said before Far was pushing me into a sofa in the tv room. I sat there nursing my ribs and basically I switched off because my peril was over and the adrenaline exertion had caught up with me. I vegged out while around me a story was told about how the thugs had chased me and beat me up and what their names were. It was the excuse needed for the armed gang to go off on a jolly. I vegged to the tv.
There was a man in the room who was half the time invisible and half the time a giant. The atmosphere in the room once the gang had gone was one of relief. Very calming, soothing. Blue in a red zone. I swear that it was generated by the man who was half the time invisible and half the time a giant. I sat in the room for at least an hour although it might well have been longer. Only once did I get it together to look up at the mans face. He smiled at me. He had a very recognizable face which somehow I knew. His eyes were the most trustworthy eyes I have ever seen. They swallowed up everything. Shining. I would give the man my soul if he asked for it. He didn't speak. He raised his hand in a casual see you later gesture as we left. Far hadn't wanted to leave through the estate after the events of the night and so she called her friend who runs a taxi, he drove a long way to rescue us.
Prior to that, the armed gang returned ecstatic from their jolly. "You have a vengeful spirit." Far told me afterward. People had been hospitalized that night. In the greater scheme of things I considered that it was probably the best way to teach the thugs in the only language they understand about how wrong violence is. The gang stripped and dumped their clothes in a bin bag to get rid of incriminating evidence and before they could do so, the police broke their tradition and rang the doorbell, and arrested everybody other than Far, myself and the mysterious stranger with angelic eyes. "Can I use the telephone?" Far asked and nobody spoke out against the plan. She called the taxi.
Months later when my ribs had recovered I was looking through a book of African and Oceanic wood carvings. One carving caught my attention. It is a two hundred year old wood carving of the African trickster god. I knew that face immediately. I had spent several hours vegging out to the tv in a room with him. He has the most trustworthy eyes I have ever seen.
Far's words came back to me; "Hanuki teaches through trickery."
The Fire Within
Don Juan Mateus, a Toltec Sorcerer, tells Carlos Casteneda in the book The Fire From Within about an immortal old world sorcerer who had achieved immortality. When he made himself known to Don Mateus lineage, it changed everything. The immortal sorcerer explained that he occasionally requires a specific type of energy, and so he taught the sorcerers of Don Juans lineage how to harness this energy, that they have an excess to gift him with.
In exchange, he gifts the sorcerers with certain knowledges known only to himself from his vantage of exploring reality as an immortal sorcerer, which he has made good on by sharing examples of these teachings.
What Don Carlos did was brilliant. He gave us all through his writing, the ability to practice the techniques for acquiring this type of energy. He dedicated the decades toward the end of his life to doing so. It has many beneficial affects. Don Carlos took the most accurate definition available, a phrase coined by Buckminster Fuller from architecture; tensile integrity - he calls these methods, Tensegrity. It will not make its practitioners immortal by the same manner as the old world immortal sorcerer is immortal. It will empower them sufficiently that when they reach the point of death, that they may dart past the Eagles beak without being eaten.
See if you can get this to work:
An Imaginary Friend
I was 6 years old when she disappeared. Before then, we would play sometimes. Her presence always cheered my heart. She was tender. Most of our conversation was autistic; was feeling rather than words. I didn't know many words at the age of 6. Only a lot of feelings and the occasional internal review that updated my paradigm and shifted how my eyes work, how my mind functioned. I was aware of the upshifts before I was ever able to communicate. By the time I could, I was so indoctrinated by the non-empathic structure of language that I wasn't able to communicate such observations anyway.
As a kid my mistake was believing that everybody automatically knew exactly the same observations. I didn't know that adults forget. I saw it in my minds eye as a rising up from the core of the sun, through layers, platforms, and the further from the core; the less attached to the mass-empathic consciousness, the more individualized we become. Isolation. I was afraid and fascinated by it.
She was a reminder to me of saefty and laughter. Comfort. She told me that she had a task to do, she would be gone for a long time and she was concerned i would forget her. I saw, because she shared it, that she was going to have a son by a man, and that the soul of the boy needed her special attention to look after him. I was frightened by how quickly she dropped the father from her heart. But then she would be with me again. It would all be amazing, I'd see. I trusted her because i tasted the reality of her vision and her purity. We shared it together. I did not know then what a Witch is, nor that I am one. Only from Grimms brothers faery tales, which is a different thing altogether.
The mother of my son was born when I was seven years old, but I did not know that. I did not know until we met for the first time on a train station, and within sixty seconds were kissing and holding hands, that my childhood imaginary friend had disappeared because she had left the spirit world to be born into a body in the material world. All I knew was colours of brightness and light, that were softness. Everything glowed. And as I detached from Spirit, as I grew up as a child and became self-aware and capable of speech and grown-up thoughts, the shadows deepened and the thorns barbed deeper; toward self-awareness this world.
By nine I was introvert and alone, entirely within my own perceptions, unwilling to share what was going on within me because I was punished for being wrong even when I did not know why or how what I was doing was wrong. I was ignored because my baby brother bit harder and screamed louder and demanded harder than myself. In retrospect, that background is why I was able to hold onto the few threads of emotional memory connection gateway to that earlier primal time of infancy.
I am pleased to be remembering this now because my son is not yet two years old and he is going through all of the same.