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Re: Rép. : [anthroposophy] Adventures on Starlight Express/ Danny in!

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  • Jan
    Dear Danny Boy, have a hug. Yes, it is red..... ... Re: Rp. : [anthroposophy] Adventures on Starlight Express/ Danny in! Dear Danny Boy, have a hug. Yes, it is
    Message 1 of 2 , May 2, 2004
      Re: Rép. : [anthroposophy] Adventures on Starlight Express/ Danny in! Dear Danny Boy, have a hug.
      Yes, it is red.....

      Lovely Jan of England...

      Freedom and Love,
      Will and Thoughts;
      Unnoticed unglamourous Work
      Done; EQUILIBRIUM Etheric Temple -
      One Crosses into the Ethereal
      While sowing Seeds of Life in the Physical...

      Cycle Circuit Circle - a Build Winged Mercurial
      To be called: HomeostageIsis-'I'-Wisdom!
      The Moral Anthroposophical one
      Struggling Karmically with bodily parts
      Invest oneself with Special Concentration
      The Organs change Countenance;
      Infusion - the Self impart modifications
      Supersensible (do) betwixt 'Entrance';
      The Speech Devachan rings inside;
      To accumulate much for the next life;
      A Mission can go over many ones
      As the Spirit makes long term plans!

      So to find the Nordic Soil - Fine -
      Green-Druidic Land - "Beaming" Right
      In the Momentum Consciousness Soul
      Where the Musical German Romantism modified
      Came tremendous - location chosen -
      The Classicists also moved West...
      While Futurity Prokofieff chose the East
      Logical diametrical to the American; Yin Yangness...

      North, South, East, West; our Positions
      Denote a task Individual(s) on Earth
      We Strive - yet look also into ahead in/of Time,
      Amidst the Muffled Spiritual - Cocoon ours in
      Present situation; World-wide even...
      To Cancel with Spirit and Soul the accumulating Evil!
      Images sent Via; Mediatory Angels;
      Moral Imaginations to Help
      Maintain the Proper Balance;
      Active action - Holy Ghost taken;
      Lo, Surrounded Within the Living Matrix
      Always influencing, from Moon to Earth:
      A Hierarchical to Malkuth (the degrees Grailian...);
      Remember the maps Floor Central previous Copernician!

      We are Somewhere - Influential - Core of Attention
      Holding much in our hands while people care not
      Much - in Replication Ol' Ego/Soul-Groupness patterns
      Missing the boat to the I AM - Qualitative Existential,
      Ethical Stance each one Evolves - Reach 'I'-SUN-Godliness...

      Point and Peripherial intersect always interpenetrate
      In the 33 and 1/3; Many Lie when they say they are Open!

      Because if in Truth it was; all would Be so Better Different!

      Reference Jan Starlight Express...
      Congratulation for your train of Thoughts
      And Deeds Most Blessed... The Birds of Heaven
      Sylphs-Elemental Alliance must sure appreciate
      All that you do even unto the Gnomic land
      And all that lies Salamanders and Undines
      To interact above with in the Gold of Mentalism
      Impressed by these beings of cross-boundaries presence
      Felt in the Realm of Imaginative Pictural Consciousness -
      Nothing else but the AnthroSophic Place beyond the Veil!

      Spring is a Season of Renewal...
      You can see your advances
      Where Air is more than Oxygen! :)

      Thanks Jan for the Breath;
      Ride on Starlight Express! :)

      Btw, is your Scooter -> Red?

      And e-lo!... even on the motorised -
      One can have Moments in Paradise!...

      And *'Grüss', an Anecdote-Marker 'Electric Light Orchestra' like
      Ye might now once again read Goethe and find...

      "The sagacious reader who is capable
      of reading between these lines what does
      not stand written in them, but is nevertheless
      implied, will be able to form some conception."
      -- Goethe, Autobiography. Book xviii
      'Truth and Beauty'.

      Jeff Lynne:
      *"...I just made it up in the studio, which was
      actually 'Grüss', which happened to mean something.
      Because the engineer was German and he said:
      'How do you know that word?'
      I said 'What word?' and he said 'That 'Grüss'',
      he said it means 'Greeting' in German.
      I said 'That's good, I'll leave it here'"...


      To Transubstantially dematerialize
      To: "Know'st thou the land where"...

      'Midnight under water

      I saw the ocean's daughter

      Walking on her way she came

      Staring as she called my name'

      -ELO's: 'Can't get it out of my head';
      Excerpt Substantial.


      ----Message original -----
      De :  Jan<starbirdgarden@...>
      Be thou my star, and thou in me be seen
      To show what source divine is, and prevails.
      I mark thee planting joy in constant fire.
      To Sirius_ G. MEREDITH

      Many of us on this forum have made, or perhaps resumed friendships, and to
      those dear friends who have given me so much, I address this more personal
      post which is a sharing of something precious to me.
        Some of you will remember that I had Polio in early childhood and have
      restricted mobility.  This was less of a problem in the past, because I have
      a car and, born and bred here, London was my city, friendly, free and easy
      and I could drive everywhere and park anywhere, or hitch a lift, and when
      younger was able to walk more, usually barefoot. But Polio does not get
      easier and  Ahriman's net closes in, so that London is vastly changed; what
      was always busy is now congested, which is a different thing, and everything
      and everywhere has grown far less accessible to me.
        So I recently bought an electrically powered four wheeled pavement scooter
      and Christened it Starlight Express. Not after Andrew Lloyd Webber's
      plagiarized, Ahrimanized Musical version, but after the original Starlight
      Express, created by Algernon Blackwood and published 1913 in his 'Prisoner
      in Fairyland', a book which is really a hymn of praise to the stars and
      principally the Pleiades, the seven sisters Blackwood saw as bearers of
      'unborn children' and his attempt to draw people into relationship with the
        Blackwood's Starlight express was an old railway carriage bought for him
      and his brother and sisters by his father and placed in the garden for them
      to play in as children.  Blackwood peopled it with vivid Imaginations, which
      he found in later life were very much alive and still requiring something of
      him, namely to ride with them again as he had in childhood each night, but
      now consciously, through the stars, through his 'star net' journeying to
      what he called 'The Star Cave' in the Jura mountains where lost stardust,
      Expressed Starlight collected because human beings made such little use of
      it, and to anoint those sleeping souls.

          Quote 'Take your seats,' he cried as of old, 'for the Starlight Express.
      Take your seats! No luggage allowed! Animals free! Passengers with
      special tickets may drive the engine in their turn! First stop the
      Milky Way for hot refreshments! Take your seats, or stay at home for
      ever!' end quote from Prisoner in Fairyland

        The characters are archetypes, The Cosmic Dust-man, star-dust-man, The
      Sweep, sweeping the heavens for etheric energies - "I'll  mix their smoke
      with hope and mystery till they see dreams and faces in their fires -"
      (bringing fire out of smoke)
      The Lamplighter, The Gypsy, The Gardener, The mysterious Woman of the
      Haystack.....harvest of dreaming Nature.
         In 'Prisoner in Fairyland', Blackwood explores 'thought as thing' the
      interconnectedness of all life, etheric energies and the tragic lack of
      these in many people's lives.  But the main theme and bedrock of the book is
      empathy, sympathy, insight - 'seeing inside' other people, other beings, in
      order to  help and heal really effectively. In the story it is the wakeful
      children who leave their bodies consciously each night and attempt to
      distribute the healing stardust to soul-sleeping adults, bringing
      transformation into their lives.

         Quote 'But what does starlight do, I mean, why is it good for people to
      have it in them - on them - whatever it is?' she inquired.
           'It gives sympathy and insight; it is so awfully subtle and delicate,'
      he answered. 'A little of it travels down on every ray and soaks down into
      you. It makes you feel inclined to stick to other people and understand
      them. That’s sympathy. But sympathy is no good without insight, which means
      seeing things as others see them, from inside. That's insight.' end quote
      from Prisoner in Fairyland.'
        So I bought 'Starlight Express' and am one of the sights of the Mossy Well
      Hill, an eccentric lady theatrically dressed whizzing along on a thankfully
      silent motor at an incredible four plus miles an hour (What speed!) courtesy
      of Ahrimanic elementals and fallen ethers, heading for the Druids Hill of
      Alexander Palace and trees, trees, trees! Birds, birds, birds! Dogs, deer,
      foxes and field mice. Now I no longer need calculate the cost in pain and
      fatigue of every step - is it worth the dozen or so steps to investigate
      this plant, this tree? Now I can fly!
         One of the good things about walking eccentrically (limping!) and
      dressing differently is that everybody recognizes and thinks that they know
      me and have known me for years.  It is like being the Queen. People feel
      free to talk as if I had known them, too, forever, and that makes for an
      interesting time! Even better, dogs find Starlight Express an irresistible
      attraction, and make straight for me, sometimes running alongside in a
      companionable way, sometimes giving my velvet gloves a friendly gnawing when
      I put out a hand to stroke them.
        When you step out of the mainstream, even by a slight difference in gait
      or attire, you find yourself in the flotsam company of
      journeyman-wounded-wayfarers, the oddballs, the tramps, down and outs,
      madmen. They recognize me as one of them, much as a ride on Blackwood's Star
      Train is not bought with money for a ticket, but with an exchanged look of
      recognition with the Blue Eyed Guard or Guardian. This vagrant brotherhood
      is a company of souls that have much won through pain, to share and give,
      friends who go wandering in disguise, and I am honoured to go alongside

         Quote -  'What looked like a rag-and-bone man blundered up first,
      his face a perfect tangle of beard and hair, and the eyebrows like bits of
      tow stuck on with sealing-wax. It was The Tramp--Traveller of the World,
      the Eternal Wanderer, homeless as the wind; his vivid personality had
      haunted all the lanes of childhood. And, as Rogers nodded kindly to
      him, the figure waited for something more.
      'Ain't forgot the rhyme, 'ave yer?' he asked in a husky voice that
      seemed to issue from the ground beneath his broken boots. 'The rhyme
      we used to sing together in the Night-Nursery when I put my face
      agin' the bars, after climbin' along 'arf a mile of slippery slates
      to git there.'
      And Rogers, smiling, found himself saying it, while the pretty Guard
      fixed her blue eyes on his face and waited patiently:--
      I travel far and wide,
      But in my own inside!
      Such places
      And queer races!
      I never go to them, you see,
      Because they always come to me!' end quote fro Prisoner in Fairyland

         The Holy Hill in springtime, this etheric wellspring in the midst of
      London I now come to know in a new way.  On Starlight express I glide along
      the paths, heading ever upward, making for the Palace itself, atop the great
      hill.  Alexandra Palace was built as a recreation centre in 1873, but only
      sixteen days after opening, burned down in a ferocious fire which some say
      was the Druid's revenge on those who had dared to raise a profane building
      on their Holy Hill with its sacred groves of ancient oak.  It was eventually
      rebuilt, and burned down again in the summer of 1980, a mighty blaze visible
      for many miles which I watched along with most of London. Again it was
      rebuilt, and I recently heard of another, smaller fire in an adjacent
      building that, interestingly, broke out on midsummer day some years
      ago.....The Banqueting hall burned down in 1971 and the ruin has been
      allowed overgrow with brambles and bushes for butterflies to breed in. Fire
      poltergeists? Perhaps... The butterflies bring more subtle fire.
        The Scooter is really designed for a bit of gentle shopping, but I hurl it
      up steep hills and over rough ground, envy the boys on the steeply curved
      purpose built wooden skateboard slopes - hey! let me have a go! - and soon
      am speeding along on the summit of the hill.  Here the air is cold, clear
      and fresh and always in movement. The clouds are gigantic and beneath,
      spread in a great panoramic sweep of the eye is London' The Great Wen',
      first the green, breathing oasis of the hill, and then streets of houses
      with little back gardens and further away tall, famous buildings visible for
      miles. On the highest point of the Alexandra Palace building stands a stone
      Angel, looking down over London, symbol of the interaction between heaven
      and earth so potent here.
        Joining the Angel in calling a blessing upon the city, I turn back and,
      clinging to the handlebars, plummet erratically down, down the hill along a
      rough track into the glory of the woodland.
         It is like plunging into the Crock of Gold. Gold below, gold above,
      strewn careless on the ground, hung from every twig, glittering in the air,
      hovering condensed into life as bee and fly, melted as melody.  Nature has
      scattered and spread bullion with her usual generous and profligate
      abundance, and the earth sparkles with millions upon millions of yellow
      starry Celendine flowers, while the Oaks and many other trees cast showers
      of potentised, golden pollen from their blossoming catkins, and molten gold
      forms itself fluid into new leaves and buds.
        And the Birds sing. Sing! All is song, literally thousands of birds, and
      there are a recorded 155 species here in this green parkland space in the
      very heart of London, surrounded by concrete, from everywhere at once, from
      all directions and from every tree and bush, above, below, they sing and
      call and chant in an amazing harmony of difference blended and resolved.
      This the true solvent, the life-elixir that dissolves matter, metamorphosing
      into ever new form, new potential, new and higher co-creation, calls forth
      the blossom on the trees.
         It is hard to know if the song is chanted from the birds or from the
      earth itself, from the Celendine, the Daisies, Day's Eyes, the many wild
      flowers opened and transparent to the stars, as the constellations use their
      voices here on the earth calling to us from every point and plane to be
      cosmic citizens once again.
        I was honoured by a visit from Royalty, (perhaps appropriately in this
      Palace setting!) when a wondrous, huge and Archetypal Queen Wasp flew down
      and settled on the back of my hand, holding surprisingly firmly with tiny
      claws. We rode on in state together beneath the Royal Oaks, companionable,
      friends. She flew off suddenly into the ever open ethers of the blue sky,
      vanishing in a dazzle of light.

      Even as a luminous haze links star to star,
      I would supply all chasms with music, breathing
      Mysterious motions of the soul, no way
      To be defined save in strange melodies.
      Paracelsus_, R. BROWNING.

        Rudolf Steiner once reminded us of what is told in the Matthew Gospel. 'Ye
      have not because ye ask not." If we have a question, he said, we are to ask;
      to ask the trees, the clouds, the animals, the stones. Therein lies wisdom.
      They will answer if we have the ears to hear. We have not because we ask
      not. We ignore the Beings who will to help us and so are ignorant, lonely
      and imperiled where we could be guided, enlightened and companioned.
        Algernon Blackwood wrote in 'Prisoner in Fairyland' of Divine thought made
      manifest in created things, in the Angels wrought works, and the creations
      too of human thought, for good or ill.

         Quote "The boy clasped his dirty fingers and stared hard. The sun was
      listening. 'Then what I think is known - like that - all over the place?' He
      asked. He held himself very straight indeed.
        "Everywhere' replied Cousinenery (Cousin Henry) gravely. 'The stars flash
      your thoughts over the whole universe. None are ever lost.  Sooner or later
      they appear in visible shape. Some one, for instance, must have thought this
      flower long ago' - he stooped and picked a blue Hepatica at their feet - 'or
      it couldn't be growing here now.'
        Jimbo accepted the statement with his usual gravity.
      'Then I shall always think enormous and tremendous things - powerful
      locomotives, like that, and - and -'
          'The best is to think kind little sweet things about other people,'
      suggested the other...... ' end quote from Prisoner in Fairyland.

         Ahriman too has a Palace on the Druid's hill. In 1935 the BBC leased part
      of the building for news broadcasts, and later the first public television
      transmissions were made from there and it is still in use. On the summit of
      the hill a gigantic four legged aerial tower reaches far higher than the
      Angel, increasingly bearing more and more sophisticated transmitting and
      receiving devices.  Those grown sensitive to the etheric atmosphere around
      the area can easily sense and even sometimes hear the changes in electro
      magnetic fields, encounter the pressure, the sense of closing in, closing
      down. This is now very noticeable during periods of meditation or inner
      quiet. The battle rages here, as everywhere. Light and chemical ethers
      snatched by gravity become electro-magnetic. Matter has a tendency to turn
      to dust, but the Elementals dance merrily in the Christed etheric and starry
      forces of levity, and so are jokers, pranksters. The human being is tasked
      know this, to be active participant, solver of riddles, at home in paradox,
      not idle bystander or silent outcast.
        Algernon Blackwood, Homeless Soul, son of a wealthy aristocratic family,
      related to almost every duke and earl in Britain, who owned no possessions
      other than what would fit in two cases and never owned a home, walked this
      hill very often, broadcasting readings of his Tales of the Supernatural and
      Unknown over the radio weekly. He would have known and certainly loved these
      very Entish Oaks, each one an eccentric individual, as oddball as those
      lonely souls who now wander among them, and would have delighted in the
      etheric purity and life of the hill in those less polluted times. I think of
      him often as I glide beneath the trees....
          A tiny Blue Flower looked intelligently up at me from where it grew
      close against the ground, Speedwell, the traveler's friend, with the
      enigmatic Smile of the Universe on its glowing face. The smile went with me,
      and I exchanged it later with one who walked uncertain, wounded, a Passer By
      whom the world would call mad but we call brother.

      That is a fine face that suffers there.
      That is a life honed bright and keen by pain,
      Spellbound the sleeping soul
      Stirs in the castle of his bounden body
      While the Spirit tears threadbare
      The ribbons of his life
      Adorning with mystery its road to freedom.


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