Bet you didn’t know i live in a real haunted house? In the dead of night you can hear the evil cackle of the frightful witch in the attic as she eats children for a midnight snack! In the basement lives a Frankensteinesque hulk whose has taken up the self appointed role of guardian of the threshold, I imagine the basement scattered with the decimated remains of those who tried to get to the washing machines. Long lost children (like those from the Village of the Damned) make circuits on the hallway staircases uttering eerie cries for help and endless woes. Occasionally i bump into a ‘Master of the Universe’ he man adorned with five foot swords whose out to save the world in his ongoing campaigns. There’s the trickster, i swear I saw a bushy tail sticking out of the leg of his tweed trousers, he is very entertaining but his advice is always a little riddled. I’d quickly pretend I’ve dropped something very important that i’m earnestly scouring the floor for if I see the good faery approach. She’s a little sickly sweet and i never quite know what she’s after, but I presume like everyone else she’s got some hidden agenda. With so many residents it’s hard to know if your coming or going and you might as well give up on a good night’s sleep.
Yet their character costumes line my wardrobe, today I pick out the downtrodden ex-librarian. She harbors shamanic vision but is beaten down by the English business man, pin stripe suited with bowler hat, who follows her around telling her that she is useless, pathetic and every idea she dreams us is in fact a complete waste of time. He nearly had a heart attack when she left her job and moved across an ocean. Funnily he came too, and yes she recognizes him even though he swapped his bowler for a cowboy hat and briefcase for a fat smoking cigar. But today (as with many other days) she’s had enough! Even though she has said this several times she’s never quite put that sentiment into more than words but today she’s realized that you need more than words, you need action to follow through with intention.
And action she did take up – just as she stepped out the elevator she quickly pressed the basement button and slammed shut the metal lattice door which caused the fat cowboy to reel back into the and with the bell pinging at the basement she heard the old boy being ripped apart by the guardian of the basement.
Slaying for the day complete she stepped into the autumnal morning, fully realizing she’d been under the English business man/old cowboy’s spell. This is no ordinary spell just cast on downtrodden ex-librarians but the same ancient spell that has affected secretaries, bank workers, artists, farmers, cashiers, dentists ….and not just women, it effects men too. In fact it’s held itself up as the backbone of the civilized world! Forget the grail, secret brotherhoods etc this is the greatest secret story – to create a world made in the image of man and have women not as equal but down there with nature and animals. But that backbone is crumbling as i am not the only person no longer wanting to live in that society, just as I no longer want someone whispering such lies of my abilities into my ears before i even open my eyes in the morning.
In 19 something or other Carl Jung had a conversation with Ochwiay Biano (translates as as Mountain Lake) who explained that he thought the white race were all completely mad. With thin lips and sharp noses and staring expression he explained they are always seeking…and most of all we were mad as we think with our heads. Surprised Jung asked what the chief thought with thought to which the wise chief put his hand over his heart. The business man and the cowboy are big head thinkers, nothing is thought through in it’s effects of anyone else. They exist to make money and money and power is king for the majority in our modern civilization. You might say no – not for me, but what of your bank of those you do business with? Do they have a heart never mind listen to it?
And so the not so quite downtrodden ex-librarian realised she’d cracked the secret of breaking the spell – acknowledging that these characters exist! As it turns out the witch in the attic isn’t so wicked, she only devours to make way for the new, she only strikes down to allow new growth. Her way is ultimately the way of balance. The lost wailing children really only need empathy and healing. The trickster only shows us both sides gently questioning our view of reality. These are the teachers in the way of the heart, but there is another way, the way of our heart, of intuition, of balanced thinking, of employing ancient knowledge that teaches us self respect, community, gives us wise teachings and tells us stories of the lands we live in. Such tales are often wonderful fantasies but it doesn’t matter that they aren’t true as they contain truths.
So my plan in this new year, on Samhiem, (the Celtic new year) is to have tea with the mad old witch. To play ball with the scary lost child, go help the guardian clean up the basement and work with the hero to take out the trash. They are all part of me and I aim to hear out their stories and learn their truths and somehow from deep inside I have a feeling that this will reconcile the downtrodenness of the ex-librarian.