Archive for cosmic tree

Light Fever

Posted in Lucerne Village, Mystical Experience, Sacred Geometry with tags , , , , , , , , , on August 21, 2012 by javedbabar

“Does the moonlight make you feel different?” asked Guru Baba.

“In what way?” asked Sami. As the holy man’s assistant, Sami was used to indulging Guru Baba, and tonight was no different. He had been given the day off but told that he would be “working all night.” After walking along the canal trail, they had stopped in a field to admire the full moon.

“Do you feel more alert, or less? People respond to moonlight in different ways.”

Sami could say that he felt less alert because it was early evening, when he should be home resting rather than out working. Instead he took a moment to tune into himself, and said, “I should be feeling tired, but I am feeling light, like I’m floating.”

“Very good! Moonlight affects many things in this world – humans, animals and plants too!” Guru Baba scanned the boggy ground, spotted a clump of what looked like rushes, and walked over to them. “Look at these legumes. In the day their leaves are horizontal to soak up maximum sunshine, but at night they change their position to vertical. Why is this? Because they need to sleep. They don’t want too much moonlight, it disturbs their timings.” He called Sami over and pointed within the rushes. “See that little snake there?” He pointed to a grey and black banded snake about a foot long. “He hides during full moons too.”

Sami said, “But aren’t there animals that hunt at night, and flowers that bloom at night? My grandma had flowers she called night lilies…”

“You are right! There are plants that love long nights of moonlight. The sun is too strong for them, they prefer low-intensity light. Did your grandma have lots of night flowers?”

Sami tried to recall. “Yes, she did. She called it her moon garden. Her white and silver flowers stood out in the moonlight, like stars in the ground. They were so beautiful. My sister called them moonas.”

Guru Baba fumbled with his orange robe beneath the waist. He produced a book. “Read this,” he said. The page was bright and Sami started reading, but the letters were vague and soon faded.

“Ha!” said Guru Baba. “The moon wants you to rest and not work. That’s her trick. She won’t let you read at night. And see how she steals colours? Remember that snake? He looked grey and black, but he was really red and yellow. The moon wants peace, not bright colours.” Then he smiled and said, “But she lets you work if you really need to. Without the Harvest Moon how would farmers ever gather all of their ripe crops?”

He pointed to a tall fir, glowing white, and said, “Look at that, a moonlight collector.”

“What do you mean?” asked Sami.

“Why do you think it grew so tall and strong? It’s reaching upwards. Did you know that seeds were taken to the moon by astronauts and then germinated on earth? Their genes have now spread all over the world. That tree wants to visit home.”


Cosmic Pillar

Posted in Classic Sci-Fi, Mystical Experience, Unknown, World Myths with tags , , , , , , , on April 4, 2012 by javedbabar

I awoke at 6am on January the first with my mind filled by the vision of a cosmic pillar. It was more a shape than an object, with dimensions that were incomprehensible. It was both see-through and substantial, though how that could be I can’t say. It arose from somewhere beneath me to somewhere high above, the space around it filled with fireworks exploding with brilliance of every kind. There were crimson flowers, old gold whirls, and neon green stars, set with bright blue puffs and lilac trails, plus tangerine flashes and clouds of silver sparkles. The darkness was forgotten, overwhelmed by teeming lights.

The pillar seemed a luminous tree trunk, rising out of some unknown earth, and into a boundless sky; the fireworks great bunches of bright foliage, filling the heavens. This tree of light shone in the night, with my soul set as a lamp upon it. It was the Tree of Life in the midst of all three worlds – memory, presence, and fantasy – making communication between them possible. It was nourishing and sheltering, inexhaustibly fertilizing, representing both evergreen, everlasting life, and deciduous regeneration. All roots fused and rose through the trunk, their journey ending as fat fruits with a mystical seeds of potential.

This ethereal vision also had a physical manifestation. My huge erection wouldn’t go down. It was a sign of a potent year to come. Full of potential.

I may as well make use of what I’ve got, so called my occasional girlfriend Kitty, who was always in the mood for some action. Afterwards she said, “Wow, what’s come over you babe? I won’t be able to sit down for a week. Everyone will think I’ve been herding cattle. Have you been eating Superfoods? Or taking Superpills? Does it ever go down?”

I told her I didn’t know, but wanted to make good use of my blessing. “Well I’m out for the rest of this week, babe. You better find yourself another willing volunteer.” This was easier said than done. Who do you call on such an occasion? Then came divine inspiration. I called “Hot Rod” Escort Agency, who asked me what I’d be willing to do, and I said, “Everything”. I quickly became their most popular escort – always available, and never disappointing.

One of the ladies I serviced took me on as her gardener. She claimed it was a way of keeping me busy between our sessions, and had nothing to do with Lady Chatterley’s Lover. I grew to like my second profession involving fertility and planting seed. She had a “big job” for me, she said: planting a white oak tree in her rear garden. Using a buddy’s excavator I dug a hole and placed the tree in the ground carefully. At night it held a ghostly glow, with a million stars shining through its yet-bare branches, as if related to the heavenly tree of my vision.

My employer recommended my services to her friends. One was a very adventurous lady, especially in the area of landscaping. She wanted her garden to have the feel of an English village, so I suggested installing a maypole in the centre of her lawn. We celebrated Mayday with twenty handsome youths and twenty fair maidens drinking country cider, and clutching bright ribbons, weaved in between each other, losing our grips and our inhibitions, right there and then, not even making it to the woods.

My English village design was noticed by a City firm. They called me in for a meeting. “We love the thrusting nature of your work,” said the lead architect, licking her lips. “Its raw energy. We would like you to help us design a skyscraper.”

“But I don’t know anything about designing buildings,” I said.

“You’re a versatile guy, I’ve heard,” she said, winking. “I’m sure you’ll figure it out. You start Saturday at my home office.”

I told her that a building should really mean something. Imagine it as the Centre of the World. Show everything whirling around it. When Thrust Tower was completed, its metallic swirling design of caused a sensation. “This represents our new nation,” said the President on his visit. “Something to which we can all aspire.” He was photographed with me so many times that people began to associate my name with the highest public office. I thought why not aspire to that? A photograph of my pointing skyward became iconic. I used it on my campaign poster, and won the election.

One of my main achievements in office was doubling funding for scientific research, much of which went to our under-resourced military. It was a proud day indeed watching the Thrust One missile shoot out of its silo into the sky, blazing fire behind.

What should be my next achievement? To boldly go? Yes of course! I doubled funding for the space program. Within three months we had developed the world’s most powerful rocket, ready for launch. My announcement on launch day stunned the nation – that I would lead by example. I would head the mission, and be the only one in the shuttle entering the Black Hole. The first man ever to do so.

Via the external monitors I saw my slim silver pillar arise into the sky, surrounded by clouds of glowing fire. And some days after, I left the main craft and went beyond the Event Horizon, and as predicted by Dr. Einstein, entered the realm of curved time-space. In the Dreamtime I entered, each day lived is the First Day, a world of pure imagination. I awoke at 6am on January the first with my mind filled by the vision of a cosmic pillar.

Hope Springs

Posted in Sacred Geometry, Unknown, World Myths with tags , , , , on March 29, 2012 by javedbabar

“That puff of cloud’s been hanging there for days,” said Rab. “Strange isn’t it?”

“I guess it’s a little strange,” said Sarah. “But there’s always mist in the Valley, like there’s a little factory somewhere in the forest producing it.” She watched the silvery cloud swirling, as if boiling inside a large invisible kettle.

“But it’s only there in the mornings, and clears by midday. The mist is never there all day for three days, love. Shall we go and take a look?”

Sarah wondered if he meant driving up the forestry road and looking down from the mountainside, or hiking into the bush. It was a gloomy day, and she didn’t fancy either. Her silence betrayed her. “You don’t have to come, love,” said Rab. “You can stay in the cabin. I’m just curious about this land we’ve bought. We’ve barely explored it. There could be anything hidden within these 72 acres.” They’d got a great deal and bought it immediately, despite silly stories told by local farmers of it being “bad land.”

“Ok if you keep the monsters away from me, I’ll come along.” Sarah put on her coat and boots. In truth she was as keen as Rab to explore the patch of wilderness they’d bought together, 30 km up the Lucerne Valley Road. It was mainly second growth forest but with scattered patches of first growth. “It’s near that big depression in the centre,” she said. “The one we tried to get to, where you sank to your knees. Feeling brave, Tiger?”

“Is it there?” said Rab. “Are you sure?”

“You’re the one who’s supposed to have great spatial awareness,” she said. “This humble woman awaits your word.”

Rab said, “Watch it love. Not everyone who enters the woods returns.” He made a face like a serpent and hissed.

“Well are you coming then?” said Sarah grabbing a machete and heading out. Rab grabbed the other one and followed her. It wasn’t a tough trail to cut, and within an hour they were at the the rim of the depression. Within it was a large pool of water draining the surrounding area. Then they noticed something that they hadn’t before. The rim of the pool was higher than the surrounding land – so water wasn’t draining into it, it was emerging from it. Something else was also apparent. “Man, it’s hot!” said Rab. “Can you believe this water’s hot! That cloud is steam! Shall we?” Rab tore off his clothes and so did Sarah, and both jumped right in.

Sarah shouted, “We’ve got a forest spa! Yippee!” They spent the rest of the day, and many coming days and nights there.”

They told their friends and soon there were people in the spa daily. They had Roman, Venetian, Atlantis, Titanic, and Amazon-themed parties that went on for days. The pool was 12 feet at its deepest point so all kind of antics were possible, with no neighbours to disturb, and no internet or cell reception to distract them. It was a swirly steaming world as if back in the Chaos of Creation – or at least the chaos before social media updates. There was always nudity, and sometimes debauchery. Rab and Sarah’s spa acquired a reputation. They tried to control usage by putting up notices, but people felt entitled to use what was now thought of as a community amenity, and ignored them all. They also tried fencing it off. Completely pointless. Even the occasional spotting of unidentified creatures did not scare people away. It was assumed that the observers were stoned, which was generally true.

Rab’s friend Loki said that he’d like to live there, but because of the danger of wildlife eating his foodstuffs, or his person, he wanted to build a treehouse. Rab and Sarah agreed. At last, they thought, someone to keep order. He wedged a ten-foot square platform between two cedars, twenty feet off the ground, and built a network of suspended rope walkways around the pool.

One day he came to the cabin and asked Rab and Sarah to follow him to the Spa. He climbed up to his treehouse and along a rope walkway, and then said, “Watch this!” He jumped feet first into the bubbling pool and disappeared. After 30 seconds Sarah was worried. After a minute Rab said, “Oh my God! Where is he?” He stripped and ran into the pool, but couldn’t find Loki. He shouted out to Sarah again and again, “Oh my God! Where is he?” After five minutes of panic, they heard raucous laughter. A soaking wet Loki tramped out of the bush. “Where the hell did you go?” said Rab. “You idiot! We were terrified! What happened?”

Loki said, “Clear away some rocks and there are caves down there, my friend. A huge network running along the Valley. The ones near the river are flooded of course, but the ones near the mountain are clear. There’s endless caverns filled with crystals. You wouldn’t believe it. Come and see!”

Loki took them down into the caves, saying it was a “third world” for them to know. They had enjoyed the Air, walking along the walkways. They had swum in the Waters. Now they toured the Underworld. It was just like Loki said – caverns of crystals, filled with strange light, reflecting itself endlessly. What he hadn’t told them was what these three worlds together represented.

The Upper World, the Middle World, and the Lower World were separated only temporarily. The Cruel Monsters of Hell were just resting a while. Now that the passage between worlds had reopened – as it had when Mt. Negra first exploded two million years ago – they were in the mood for another outing.

Hot Pool

Posted in Uncategorized, World Myths with tags , , on February 3, 2012 by javedbabar

It’s really nice to have use of a hot tub; to be able to relax daily after work or sport, or just for leisure. But boy those things burn money, especially if they’re outdoors. So Wayne was delighted when he found its natural equivalent: a hot spring bubbling in a mossy pool in the forest. Strangely the hot pool contained a rainbow carp, which swam peaceably among the bubbling waters.

Wayne didn’t know how the fish would react to his presence, so did not enter the water immediately. He dipped in an arm, and waited to see. The fish nibbled a little and then swam around it. Wayne stripped off entirely and jumped right in. Ahhh! It was the perfect temperature – maybe 105.

He soaked in the hot pool every day after work. The fish became friendly and nibbled his cheeks, and swam between his legs. Sometimes it came right up beside him and touched heads, as if trying to send thoughts.

Wayne spent lots of time in the hot pool, and began to experiment with different poses. He stretched out along its rocky side and enjoyed the bubbles tickling his body; the fish swam alongside. He lay diagonally across the pool with arms spread wide, bubbling waters raising him up; the fish swam beneath, and around him. He sank to the bottom and sat like an Indian Yogi, with hands making mudras; the fish settled in his lap.

Beside the hot pool was a tall Norway Spruce. Wayne had noticed its lower branches shaking periodically, but hadn’t paid much attention. Today he saw a ratty face appear for a moment, and large black eyes peer in his direction; whiskers twitched and then disappeared. The next day the face appeared again attached to a slender, silver body and bushy tail. With its strong limbs and sturdy claws the squirrel danced an upside-down jig on the tree, as if trying to attract his attention. Wayne waved at it and submerged. The fish was bothering him excessively today, almost doubling the bubbles in the hot pool.

The next day the squirrel climbed higher in the tree. It crushed some leaves, creating a sweet, citrus-like smell, which made the hot pool intoxicating. Wayne sank to the bottom once more, making mudras. The fish pecked his feet and thighs.

Wayne began to hear squeaking sounds underwater. He wondered if they came from the gap where the water entered, but when he laid his ear against the rocks, realized it wasn’t from there. Could it be the fish scraping something? But it was swimming freely. Oh no, had the squirrel fallen in? He rose quickly as if a sea monster, smashing ships and drowning sailors. The squirrel was high up, staring at him intently. It nodded with ostentation.

After a few days the squeaky sounds began to adhere, and eventually formed words. “Hey, Man! Can you hear me now? Hello? Hello?”

“Who is this?” said Wayne, which was a dumb thing to do underwater, and he came up spluttering. The squirrel was even higher now, staring down. Wayne submerged again.

The squeaking said, “You don’t need to speak, stupid; just think. I thought you were the one who was more evolved. Anyway, it seems that we understand one another now. Raise your hand and say hello.” Wayne lifted an arm above the water. “Yeah, that’s right. Greetings! Now, look, the issue is this. I’m trying to better myself. Every day I rise a little higher. You’ve seen that. I’ve moved from the ground to way up this tree. Heading skywards. But our friend Fish is stuck there in the waters. She’s swimming in circles forever. I’d like to help her rise also, but don’t know how. That’s where you fit in. I’ve seen your kind. You seem to be able to move between realms – yesterday water, today land, tomorrow sky, the day after, who knows?”

Wayne almost opened his mouth again, but remembered, and thought instead. “How are you talking to me?” He thought. “Squirrels don’t speak.”

Don’t speak! Don’t speak! That’s a good one!” Wayne heard what could only be laughing; the word “chittering” came to mind. “Don’t speak? Of course we speak! All creatures speak in their own way. Anyway, the point is that Fish really wants to join our conversation, but can’t tune in. You know about evolution, don’t you? She is our ancestor. Not the Universal Common Ancestor, but pisces, the same species near enough. Is it fair to leave her out just because she’s less evolved?”

“Of course not,” thought Wayne. “What can I do to help?”

“Now I saw those strange poses you performed. What do you call them?”

“Mudras,” said Wayne. He only knew three from Yoga 101.

“Yes, mudras. Is there one associated with fish?” The squirrel was speaking progressively faster. More like Wayne would expect one to speak.

“Not that I know of,” said Wayne. “But there is the legend of Vishnu taking the form of a fish and saving the first Man.”

“Well, it’s payback time, buddy,” said the squirrel. “Now you save the fish. Why don’t you sit cross-legged in the…”

“Lotus position?” said Wayne.

“Yes, lotus position, and place her on your lap.”

The fish was troublesome, but Wayne held her on his lap, half-in-and-half-out of the water. Wayne closed his eyes, ready to commune with Supersoul.

There was a rushing sound and light touch on his shoulder. Wayne opened his eyes, surprised. There was frothing in his lap. He jumped up, bewildered. The squirrel ran up the tree, grasping the fish. Wayne stared, open mouthed. The squirrel reached mid-way and stopped to look down at him, superciliously. Wayne waited for him to say something, and then remembered that he must to be underwater to hear. There was lots of squeaking-laughing, and then said skiouros, the shadow-tailed, “It’s survival of the fittest, my friend. Survival of the fittest.”