Old Narratives

An old narrative holds that Swine Herders once held outsized power in society but lost their influence when rivals stampeded their claim to authority relegating the Swine Herder to second-class citizen. The Swine Herder was displaced by a new power. One of the oldest and most popular myths of all time taken from Genesis only mentions cattle in its opening chapter. Swine were not mentioned. A clue perhaps to when the biblical stories were cobbled together, since the Swine Herder myths are considered much older than the cattle stories. Still, both narratives probably share a common root. We know that traditions merged various source material to create more coherent narratives. Those stories became scripture. And the stories were in circulation for centuries before they were ever written down. Of the shards and fragments that survived from earlier manuscripts, some were replanted in later period works, with only a few sacred relics preserved intact. The finished manuscripts were argued over, edited, and rewritten numerous times. Only a handful of individuals who study the bible for example realize that the first English edition was translated directly from Hebrew and Greek by William Tyndale. And then to their dismay, they learn he was “publicly executed and burned at the stake”1 in 1536. Imagine the faith and conviction for such an act.

Tyndale was accused of being intentionally deceptive and distorting the meaning of the stories. Then he paid for his “crime” with his life. 75 years later the bible took the form we recognize today, the King James version first published in 1611. Councils have disputed the compositions and order of the books many times. And interpretation of scripture has grown into an industry. The creative imagination defends myths because they appear to be especially important to our understanding of the human experience and never more important than when we are on the verge of dramatic shifts in power that irreversibly change society. Scripture provides a type of map we can study to learn about the patterns of upheaval that have come before us. We can analyze confusion safely and from a distance as life erupts into chaos. The bible is a collection of such stories. We recognize the patterns. We can learn to SEE.

God said, “Let there be light in the firmament of the heavens to separate the day from the night; and let them be for signs and for seasons and for days and years.”2 The “signs” sometimes signaling a transfer of power, signaling a new authority, a new order. A new beginning. Today, power is clearly being transferred once again. We anticipate the rise of “the individual” within society as the Age of Aquarius unfolds. The old narratives suggest that leading characters take on archetypes that are fitting for the age. Their characters keep the stories moving, more interesting, and easier to remember. But truth sometimes gets mangled in translation and lost in the various iterations of the same tale told over and over again. What do all these symbols mean? In a sense, myths are an act of preserving knowledge through time but the stories we have collected have been buried beneath centuries of sandy analysis that is abrasive to memory, making it difficult not to lose the thread of why the stories were told in the first place. Symbols lose their significance. Memory and meaning fade. We over think things and instead of seeing “symbols as the thing symbolized” we use other less reliable faculties. But change is accelerating. Life as we know it is on the cusp of a dramatic turn. An awakening. The symbols of the ages mark our progress, like milestones. They help us know how far we have come and whether we remain on course. The Pig gave way to the Cow; the Cow became a sacrifice for the Ram. All three are then subsumed by the Fish. These are the respective symbols for Gemini, Taurus, Aries, and Pisces. Today Aquarius beckons. A new, vaster, more open world is here and now. The reign the Gnostic Being, is at hand. As unity and cooperation grow, a surprising consequence of today’s upheaval, we catch a glimpse of the Ideal beginning to glow, and in unusual places, like embers in the hearth of cauldron.

Pig Keepers

I am reminded of the story of two pig keepers from Irish mythology, one from Connacht and the other from Munster. A metaphor of change and what change can and cannot do. The pig keepers got along well enough at the start but then entered a period of bickering where everything became a competition. They assumed various forms and guises, casting spells on one another trying to outdo each other in terms of who could prove themselves more power. After many battles of wits and daring the swine herders finally arrived at a point of mutual agreement. And out of this newfound respect for each other a truce was called. They arrived at good terms. A negotiated settlement, that recognized each was “great” in their own unique way. Unfortunately, it was too late. The King of the land was displeased with this outcome since as a consequence of the competition so much damage was done. In their refusal to stop their feud there was no one left to tend to the pigs and people’s standard of living and their customary way of life suffered. The whole kingdom suffered. The fatted pig turned thin and as a result everyone in the land faced a dire shortage in food. The world was on the brink of starvation. The pig keepers were fired. And although they had settled their differences, they rued the day they were discharged by the King, blaming each other, they reneged on their agreement and began plotting and scheming their revenge with abandon. The feud was back on. They shape shifted, reenacting their discord through trickery and deception to do battle under the guise of many forms, first as two crows, then as sea monsters, followed by stags, phantoms, and even dragons. Each transformation lasted “two years.” Finally, exhausting all forms they transformed themselves into worms but got swept away by a heavy rain. Separated by the rush of water, one worm fell headlong into the river and the other fell into a spring. Both ended up in a pasture where cows were grazing and there, they got lapped up by two thirsty cows, each of whom would become the mother of a great bull.

Two calves. Born of two cows. Destined to become the two greatest bulls that ever lived: Donn Cúailnge of Cooley and his rival Finnbhennach. Warrior bulls who lock horns in the epic Táin Bó Cúailnge. The backstory to the Táin Bó Cúailnge, the story of the Pig Keepers, is instructive. It teaches us that events have an origin in previous events. In the case of the Cattle Raids, the drama began with the Swine Herders. The Bulls “are” in a sense the Pig Keepers reincarnated. Along the way there are incremental changes that build over time, and with each transformation a greater force is on display, culminating in the form of the dragon. The Pig Keepers maintain this progression until just prior to the unexpected fall into the lowly shape of a worm. And then a tremendous leap from worm Bull, an understated yet significant transfiguration.

Time is compressed in the stories for the purpose of keeping our attention, but also as a way of not losing the narrative. One day could equal 100 years for example. The Pig Keepers took on many forms before assuming the shape of the Bull. But the Bull is clearly a new form for a new age that was appreciably better than what the Pig had to offer in the previous age. A progression from Gemini to Taurus. The age of Taurus less about change and instead requiring a stability of purpose. This stage of life would need more order and organization. A steadfast determination emerged wrapped in a passionate embrace of nature (Think of Venus ruling Taurus, with the Moon Exalted and the upholding energy of Mars, ruler of Scorpio). Shape shifting and trickery (Mercury), so helpful in the Age of Gemini, created contentiousness and diversity but also became a hindrance in the Age of Taurus. The Pig Keepers strived one against the other, to reach a higher status, and they climbed with each transformation until exhausted, they fell, fast and far, taking on the lowliest form known to man. And so, leaders of society would need to begin again at the bottom of the hierarchy. Worms seem an odd form to close out the previous age and open a new one. But here we can assume they represent a type of seed for creation to come. Fecundity. Fertility. A conception of life and a powerful force that moves evolution forward. There is something too about the higher heights (dragons) and lower lows (worms) that rhyme with the upholding sign of Scorpio during the age of Taurus. The energy seeks reconciliation, rehabilitation and renewal of the Earth. There is a passionate devotion to the Spirit of Nature. The status of the Cow displaces the Pig. Time moves through the Signs following the Procession of the Equinox, from Gemini to Taurus to Aries, which is in the reverse direction as the daily motion of the Sun. When the Time leave Gemini, everything changes. What is valued, considered worthy, ethical and moral is reshaped. Fixed. Leadership turns over at such turning points to better align with what people care about. We are witnessing similar drama unfold today, new forms are emerging in a New Age, in a new way… The New Way!


“It’s the economy stupid.”

James Carville

Regimes change. Empires fall. And civilizations are lost. And the one thing they all seem to share in common is that they were great until they were not. Collapse appears sudden. Inevitable. And there is something hard wired in the brain that anticipates end of world scenarios and disaster, even while large swaths of society simultaneously seem to ignore the obvious. Apocalyptic thinking, like shared memories, clings to the mind like mud on overalls. Every time a fundamental shift in the balance of power and economic might occurs anxieties get stirred. Power and influence of the status quo wane, slowly at first, and then near the end of the Age an acceleration occurs. What we value, what think worthy and worthwhile, tradable, and fungible, depreciates. The devaluation of life happens before reevaluation can recognize what is truly priceless. Only then does the transformation morph. And these thresholds are painfully crossed. The study of cycles suggests that when such change finally does come, it can happen in an instant.  

“In economics things take longer to happen than you think they will, and then happen faster than you thought they could”

Rudiger Dornbush

Big Waves

As mentioned in the opening to this post, the Swine Herders acquiesced power slowly, reluctantly, and incrementally overtime and their power and authority transferred to cattle owners.3 According to the Map of Manifestations,2 the status of the Pig Keepers would have peaked somewhere around 6,840 years ago. This period would have marked the end of the Age of Gemini and 6,200 years before the earliest Scripture, “the book of law,” found in a Jerusalem temple in 621 b.c.e.4

The ascendancy of the Cow inarguably corresponds with the Age of Taurus, while Ancient Celtic myths suggest that the Age of Gemini might arguably be associated with the Pig. With prohibitions placed on hunting boar in some myths we intuit that the decline of the Pig was at hand, synchronous with the Swine Herder falling out of favor. Tomas Ó’Cathasaigh’s mention in Coires Sois, that the swine herder was connected with the druid class,5 is intriguing. Druids were purported to be leaders of Ancient Celtic society. Using myth as our inspiration and the Map of Manifestations as our guide we can see that the Swine Herder was likely more influential, at least theoretically, ‘before’ the Cow ascended and possibly because cattle had not yet been fully domesticated.

Husbandry was in its infancy when Druids held power. As Diviners of language they were revered for their Geminian qualities; the Druid’s powers of communication must have appeared magical to members of the tribe. Their powers included an expressiveness for communing with the forces of nature using incantations, a specialized language for manipulating and naming things, and for manifesting wisdom from the All by applying their sacred knowledge. Of the many powers in the cosmos at the time, their ability to receive information about prophecy was perhaps the most awe inspiring. This power would have been quite useful in intuiting more about an impending reckoning approaching, the next unraveling. An ancient reset was coming. They may have known or at least sensed that the end of the Age, the world as they knew it, was near. With the Map of Manifestations, we can see that the mutable ages always end in an unraveling. Each of the Mutable Signs leads to a Fixed Sign, a Sign of Preservation. But until that vital threshold is reached, marking the cross over from Mutable to Fixed, the Pig Keepers would remain in power, Masters of the prehistoric universe, what we might in retrospect refer to as the Primordial Information Age. I imagine the druids were the upholders of society in their Age in the same way that the “spiritual warrior” upheld the Age of Taurus.

For fun I visualize the original Dumbledore character from the Harry Potter series as an archetypal representation of the old man in Sagittarius, holding his staff in one hand and a lantern in the other, the #9 card of the Tarot. The Hermit. Card of wisdom. Seeking. Discovering things with the light of intellect and curiosity. The Pig, comfortable in Gemini, again like mud on overalls, thrived. But somewhere along the way the Symbol disassociated from the Sign. Although I did find remnants of positive associations between the Pig and Gemini in Chinese Astrology, the old man on the #9 card appears to be just standing there, in Sagittarius. I don’t think he is concerned about losing his Pig. Perhaps he is looking for his horse.


“Everything changes!” And especially when evolution moves from Mutable Signs to Fixed Signs. From destruction to preservation. Placing the Swine Herder in proper sequence, before the rule of the Bull, seems as natural as serving lunch before dinner. The progression appears intact in the old Irish myths. And in the story of the pig keepers, Friuch and Rucht, summarized above, is a fine example of how to reassemble stories and place them in time using the symbolism presented. Namely, that the animal powers referenced along with the Map of Manifestations, provides an accurate and precise overlay as a guide to history. My argument above is that the Pig was an important symbol in the Age of Gemini. And the famous remscéla6 to the Táin Bó Cúailnge, the battle of the Swine Herders, can be read as an origination story, a story of differentiation coincident with a mini flood (The waters in the tale that echo The Great Flood). What takes shape from an undifferentiated chaos experienced in water (Cancer) is a new birth and moves to Gemini. In this way, the Pig Keepers connect readers and listeners with the deepest mysteries of life, the waters that introduce the worms to the Cow pasture. While only a variation on the story of The Great Flood, it is nevertheless profound, that the first degree of Gemini is the trimsamsa in Cancer. And of course, the first degree is the last degree by precession. An echo of Noah’s Ark perhaps, the remscéla to the Táin Bó Cúailnge ends with a long and contentious battle between two adversaries, creatures in competition for transforming creation, expanding their powers of communication, and their power to differentiate, to reform. To “be fruitful and multiply.” To think. To do. And in the sign of Cancer the power is not yet fully in possession of itself, hence the lowly worm contained in water. At various points in scripture the action requires that God intervene. A flow of determination or fate is embedded within the narrative. Destruction for rebuilding, dying to an old way in order to be reborn again in a new way, death and rebirth.


There is another group of stories taken from Irish tradition known as “the elopement tales.” In one of these stories the narrative snorts and wriggles its way through several relationship entanglements, indirectly associating the Pig to the challenge people have with keeping their word. The Irish term “geasa,” means taking a vow; keeping pacts and promises sacred. On the dark side these promises are taboo, hexes that nevertheless still need be “honored.” Marriage and friendships can be burdened by such vows, against lustful cravings and our baser impulses. And those lower chakra drives are on full display in the elopement tales. I think the story of Fiona, Diarmuid, and Gráinne foreshadow the resounding decline of the Pig. When Fionn places a prohibition on the hunting of boar we learn that he is protecting someone. Who? And why? He is protecting Diarmuid whose life he knows is threatened by a geas placed on a boar by Roc. Roc is Diarmuid’s half uncle, his father’s half-brother. Donn (“The Dark One”), Diarmuid’s father, killed Roc’s only son Ben Bullben. Roc is distraught at the death of his son but brings him back to life with magic incantations in the form of a wild boar. He places the geas on his son, the wild boar, that he should kill Diarmuid if ever his skin is pierced by Fionn’s most favored warrior. But Fionn’s heart was driven by revenge, and forgiveness would come too slowly. Diarmuid had betrayed their bond by running off with Gráinne. The story unfolds in twists and turns where the truth is eventually revealed. An air of retribution lingers however, and the message seems clear that past debts must be paid. Fate. Karma. A type of mystical Determinism if you like, but whatever the case the tryst between Diarmuid and Gráinne, the most beautiful woman in Ireland, cannot be resisted. Gráinne is attracted to Diarmuid, but much to her regret, she is already spoken for by Fionn. She manipulates the wedding scene where she is to take Fionn as her husband and instead drugs him so that she can steal away with Diarmuid. There are various versions of the story, but each one ends with a wild boar sent to kill Diarmuid. Fionn, who took on Diarmuid as his apprentice pursues the eloped couple for years with a broken heart. Half his heart yearning for a love lost, the other half weeping at the betrayal he suffered by Diarmuid. He loved Diarmuid like a son. Finally, Fionn catches up with the wandering couple.

Betrayal ‘shape shifts’ emotions into uncontrollable fits of passion perhaps fitting for a wild Pig. And, duly warned, Diarmuid is counseled to always sleep in a house with more than one door. So, it is no accident then that the hideaway he and his new bride take shelter in has 7 doors, one door for each visible planet in the sky. The soldiers surround the house. Diarmuid opens each door in succession and is promised safe passage by the soldier standing guard. He declines, closes the door, and moves to open the next one. When he finally opens the 7th door, Fionn is standing there and they agree to a challenge. It ends in a draw and Fionn and Diarmuid make peace. To celebrate their newly won reconciliation they decide to go on a boar hunt together in celebration. That is where Ben Bullben, son of Roc, charges and fatally gores Diarmuid. But the wild boar is slain in the fight as well. The end of Gemini.

Like in the story of Friuch and Rucht we are reminded to be cautious when thinking we know where arguments lead much less end. The enmity between “brothers” (siblings in Gemini parlance) is a common theme in old tales (Caine and Abel). In the case of the Pig Keepers, their entanglement leads them to the ultimate battle destined for the Táin where the Donn Cúailnge of Cooley and Finnbhennach are waiting. There they resolve the original conflict in mortal combat. In the case of Diarmuid he pays not only for his own sins but also for the sins of his father. Even when we know the stories, and they are repeated ad nauseum, we cannot seem to get enough of them. It is my contention that these stories have a common source and came of age at the same time, around 6,480 – 8,640 years ago. Precisely, in the Age of Gemini, the reign of the Pig. After the period, the reign of the Bull would have ensued and then ended 4,320 years ago. Each Age lasting 2,160 years.


Spoil alert! The Bulls die in the Táin. That is what mortal combat means. What began in the Age of Gemini, progresses to Taurus, and dies there. The flow of time speaks to a change of values in Taurus, but they are deeply held values and beliefs, what people are willing to sacrifice, fight and die for in defense of those values. Fast forward toward the end of Taurus, Cú Chulainn, the mythic warrior hero and representation of the individual ascending in preparation for the age to come (Aries), spares his nemesis queen Mebd, the person responsible for making waves that started the “Cattle Raid.” We are getting ahead of ourselves but her malevolent self-absorption and possessiveness are responsible for great violence and suffering, but she is nevertheless offered protection while the Bulls go off and slaughter each other. The end of Taurus. This part of the tale is a dramatic depiction signaling an end to the story but also an end to the Age.

Remember the original disagreement between the pig keepers was all about who among them had the greatest power, and though the issue had been settled, there was agreement that “they were equal,” the agreement came too slowly and at too great a cost. The King discharged them of their duties. The unresolved issues needed to workout in another way. How fascinating that Mebd’s obsession for raising an army against Ulster was driven by her baser instincts, her jealousy at not being considered “equal” in wealth to her husband king Allili. An ancient description of the “wealth gap.” There is wonderful sagacity in the story of the Táin. Cú Chulainn battles his foster brother Ferdiad for 3 days, finally killing him with the Gáe Bolga. Point made! There is a shift in the code of ethics. Cú Chulainn represents the sacrifice of self, the giving of the individual self for a higher purpose unlike the possessiveness of Queen Mebd. The goal is to fight for and aim for a better future: Aries. He does not become completely consumed by his famous warp-spasm while “wrestling” Ferdiad. His manic fits were a power that made him feared and seemingly invincible in the eyes of his enemies, but his warrior energy is controlled and contained in the battle. The hate that consumed Caine when he murdered his own brother, is not the same emotion that overtakes Cú Chulainn. It is not the same emotion that consumed the Pig Keepers. This was a reluctant killing. Not murder. The Gemini qualities revealed in retelling these myths, describing enmity and murder between siblings, characters going through “changes,” deal making and endless negotiations, appear almost self-evident when stepping back, map in hand, to survey the land so to speak. But more profoundly, there seems to be a progression of consciousness within these narratives. If forms represent a type of communication, a developing consciousness within the story, moving from differentiation of the many (Gemini), to a well formed and organized ‘thing’ as opposed to chaos, then order follows disorder, there will be a deep shift in values. And indeed, this seems to have been the case. But after 2,160 years something else was required and disruption was called for once again. Cú Chulainn introduces the ascendancy of an original ideal tied to the concept of the hero, and the sovereignty of the individual. However, even after victory is won bouts of nostalgia create periods of backwards thinking that address any lingering and unfinished business. The individual became immersed in an overwhelming ego drive that forced a separation, a splintering off from the Source. Interestingly, the end of the Age of Aries is symbolically represented and fitting for the fallen hero archetype, as the individual’s power ebbs and Cú Chulainn futilely fights the waves of the sea (chaos). The Age of Pisces begins to flow, marking the start of the 9th Manifestation, pandemonium saturated in confusion ensues as Time crosses the threshold into the Common Era. All perspective is lost at sea. A new age begins. Sacrifice moves under the guise of false pretense as represented by the Prince of Peace, and false powers reign to deceive and subdue the individual into a new and complicated set of beliefs. 


The age of Taurus is ruled by the planet Venus and corresponds with the Bull, just as the entire 8th Manifestation is ruled by Mars and corresponds with the Eagle (Scorpio). Thea reminds us that the word “Go” is Sanskrit for the word cow, meaning “light.” And so, the connection is made between the light of consciousness and the essence of the Cow, literally “light growing in matter.” In evolutionary terms man gains greater awareness of his own being. Reflections shared in the story of the Garden of Eden where the scales fall from the eyes of Adam and Eve and they SEE they are naked. An awakening of perception to life and life processes is underway. Simultaneously, we learn that the Eagle, the upholding spirit of the age, associated with Scorpio, connects the Bull with the Eagle. Venus and Mars, a higher passion, devout worship, the stuff of Ancient Wisdom Schools and Higher Love. We think of shaman and medicine men. The individual becomes possessed by passion, lust for life, and spirit contained within animal forms and appetites. Instincts rage inciting misunderstandings, misperceptions, and intense accusations, leading to arguments, wars, and great battles. Thea provides a Map for understanding the sequence of these power shifts through time. Reviewing the past with a Key (the Map of Manifestations) to such events adds nuanced insight, enables seekers to decipher history in a manner unavailable until now, and of critical importance, to know where one is on the circle at present. We are well into the second degree of a New Age and the change of regime currently underway is a change that rivals all previous transformations combined, a shift of such magnitude for instance, that it dwarfs the movement symbolized when the evolution jumped from Pig to Cow. We could say that the “Fish” today is out of water. Like a sunfish gasping for air after a 9-year-old angler lands the fish on the sun deck of lakeside dock. What emerges will truly astound us but not without flopping around first, slapping the boards wet with water, generally making a mess of things and desperately trying to find our way back to the “sink.” 


Out of curiosity I wanted to check the Sanskrit form of Pig before leaving Gemini. The nearest word for Pig in Sanskrit is Varaha, meaning “wild boar.” This was fascinating in that the word carries the connotation ‘to fascinate’ and because it reminded me of a story Thea shared with a small group of students on Yahoo a few years ago. She had taken her horse out for some exercise around the property on Skamba, the home of the Aeon Centre in Kodiakanal in the south of India. Suddenly a wild boar jumped out of the bushes startling the horse who reared up and threw Thea in the process. Her harsh dismount landed her on the ground shoulder first as I recall the story, but the boar scampered off not the least of which was because her mount was furious and peddling his hooves in the air as fair warning for the boar to back off. And her horse did not run or abandon his rider, which would have left Thea in a precarious state, defenseless against the pig should he circle back. Wild pigs are known to be smart witty creatures, and their endless curiosity suggests caution when venturing in the forest because they can be extremely dangerous. Of course, this hair raising story was mesmerizing to hear on its own merits, but then come to find out years later that the ‘wild boar’ or Varaha, represents the third avatar of Vishnu who lifts the Earth out of the cosmic ocean. The Earth rests on his tusks as he restores Bhudevi to her rightful place in the universe. Anyone skimming the pages of Thea’s prodigious writings ought to let their jaw drop right about here. She never mentioned the connection though clearly, she knew. She was extremely well versed in Vedic Scripture and this story was shared for more than just entertainment purposes, like most important stories there was a message embedded inside. The intriguing correspondence students of The New Way will immediately recognize is that Thea ‘occupies’ the “3-Point” on the Gnostic Circle where the Earth and Moon are positioned. The “3-Point” falls in the Sign of Cancer. Thea explained her encounter with the “wild boar” as having to do with learning how to handle confrontations with hostile forces and then went on at length about how the hostilities in this particular case were incognito as it were, wearing the mask of the wild boar, hiding their true identity. Echoes of the Irish myths and of myths from around the world. The wild boar was often sent to do battle as a proxy for a hostile power. I remember being absolutely intrigued by this tale; completely riveted by the suspense. And for some reason not making these connections until many years later. The story seems to return to me on its own accord through mention of the Pig and reflecting on the old stories. The Earth is “lifted out of the cosmic ocean.” Thea, Patrizia Norelli-Bachelet’s spiritual name, is synonymous with Earth. In fact, her spiritual name is an anagram for Earth, minus the 9 power (the letter “r”). She is the “Individual” power within a trinity of Avatars who make up a Sacred Triangle that includes the “Cosmic” and “Transcendent” powers. The wild boar “lifted” her up and off her horse, the very symbol of the 9th manifestation, and the Vahana for the entire period. The horse in fact represents in this manifestation what the Eagle represented the previous manifestation. The horse as the carrier and essence of the Sign of Sagittarius is the Spirit of the Age. Horse, rider, and symbol align. And the remarkable correspondence suggested by Sign and Symbol that came together at the individual degree of Gemini, the conduit for information.  

The “wild boar” is “’to offer or present’, ‘to outdo, eclipse, surpass’, ‘to enrapture, charm. [and] fascinate.’ In addition, there is also mention of the act of “taking away or removing evil or sin, carrying off, seizing, depriving or stealing”5 which relates to our next study when we home in on the Cow. I think of the “stealing of the rays” as told by Thea when reading the Táin Bó Cúailnge. Myths told the world over rhyme in some shape or form. They share universal meanings.

Etymologists according to the Wikipedia page for Varaha give us more meaning and affirm my thesis that the Age of Gemini was a time of “disorganization” as reflected in the great Pig Tales, and the word also carries the connotation to “tears up good roots.” Which to a gardener can be a way of systematically cultivating a garden, or as She might say “cutting new shoots.” And that is where we are today. The so-called gardener is tearing things up and scattering the shoots to more fertile ground. On its face it appears chaotic and messy, out of control and random, but this is not so as a new and younger generation picks up these “shoots” and replants them. In the process we are reevaluating everything we thought precious and contained within the walled garden of our perceptions. Our notion of paradise, our nostalgia for a time that never was, bringing forward past debts and crimes that need to be set straight before progress continues. Despite the distortion of memories, Truth will prevail. A friend just texted me a quote from Krishnamurti who wrote, “The constant assertion of belief is an indication of fear.” And fear can stop us in our tracks. Fear can freeze us. Make us immobile. But “The Truth of That Which Moves” only knows courage. Truth creates a Cosmos not a Void. And I think that is a good place to stop.

1,2,4 edited by Herbert G. May, Bruce M. Metzger. The New Oxford Annotated Bible with the Apocrypha : Revised Standard Version, Containing the Second Edition of the New Testament and an Expanded Edition of the Apocrypha. New York :Oxford University Press, 1977.

3 Ó’ Cathasaigh, Tomás. Coire Sois, The Cauldron of Knowledge : A Companion to Early Irish Saga, edited by Matthieu Boyd, University of Notre Dame Press, 2014.

4 Norelli-Bachelet, Patrizia (1975), The Gnostic Circle, Aeon Books. Accord, NY

5 “Monier-Williams Sanskrit-English Dictionary: ‘√hr’”. Retrieved 16 February 2020.

6Yaska; Sarup, Lakshman (1967). The Nighantu and the Nirukta. Robarts – University of Toronto. Delhi Motilal Banarsidass. pp. 74-75.

7Norelli-Bachelet, Patrizia (1975), The New Way, Aeon Books. June 1, 1981

One response to “Bhudevi”

  1. […] just hit a home run after convalescing for 2 years from an encounter with a wild boar. (Recall Bhudevi and the significance of the Boar). I think boys who swing on birches are just like boys who play […]

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