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Harvest of Collective Alchemy Practice Circles—31 July 2020

heart of the hive

As above so below: HOW AM I EXPERIENCING THE CRUCIBLE OF MY LIFE
IN MY PLACE/CONTEXT?
As without so within: INSIDE THAT CRUCIBLE, WHAT PROCESS(ES) AM I IN?

See also the Event invitation for more framing of this calling question:

FRAMING of the CIRCLE

We are in our 9th cycle – each one is fresh.
We bring service at all levels, personal and collective.
We’re entering a time of harvesting,
pausing, taking stock;
attuning to the practice of Collective Alchemy,
shifting consciousness.

As above, so below; as within, so without”
is a compass to orient in the vertical and the horizontal.
Where are we in the alchemical map?
The crucible is our heart space,
it’s the field, this circle, our guiding question…
What arises serves not only ourselves,
especially when we make the implicit explicit.

As above so below: HOW AM I EXPERIENCING THE CRUCIBLE OF MY LIFE
IN MY PLACE/CONTEXT?
As without so within: INSIDE THAT CRUCIBLE, WHAT PROCESS(ES) AM I IN?

Fermentation, sublimation, radiation:
I will that my will be thy will.
I long to dissolve my boundaries
and flow back into reunion with the One.
AND I want to take my story with me.
I am part of the Many, called into being by the One.
I am wanted. I am WILLED.
My WILL is WILLED by thee.
I have no truer identity than that.
The challenge seems to be
in finding right relationships
with the other denizens of the Many;
in shedding all thoughts and motives that have been
planted in my mind by sources seeking to channel
the pure waters of my life force out and away
from their true course, and into
serving the intentions of others,
centred on self, on separation and
the wielding of power by the few over the many.
My work is to divest myself of my conditioning,
to dissolve back into my own primal purity,
and live fierce and spontaneous from that place.
Expressing love.

I’m back home with my new self.
What have I learned from my time away?
Learned together with others.
How can I match what I have become this past year
with what I have been all my life before that?
Learning to live with heavy prescriptions,
brushing with Death and Birth,
losing and finding.
I can hardly feel what I feel.
I feel numb, confused.
I don’t know what to do, how to feel.
I am processing without knowing what or how to process.
I am waiting, without knowing what I am waiting for.
For time to pass?
For the numbness to go away?
For the confusion to disappear?
This is fermentation:
put it all in a pot
and stick it on a shelf.
Leave it to do its work. I can’t look at it.
What’s happening in there? How long will it take?

As above, so below.
I have been longing to know:
are we in Corona or out of it?
I liked the Corona silence, the quality of connection.
I’m regretting the end of a deep moment,
digesting my blues.
Now, back again in some kind of lockdown
at home, but still free to travel abroad.
How to give a place to my confusion?
I’m running behind, causing my own suffering,
seeking a comfortable clarity.
There is another way to be—to adapt, to accept uncertainty.
I can feel it in the background
I’m in sublimation.
With my over-active mind, out of control.
Steeping myself in statistics is not healthy.
I’m in this unpleasant stew,
that I can abet, explore, mine for its qualities.
I’ve realised that I’m more inclined to seek
outside approval than I thought.
The twin rutted paths of the tractor trail:
the path of active control: a deep, dead liake
that offers silence and safety;
or the path of unknown alternatives, latent within,
that forms an aerated, lively river, not too deep
but full of joyous life.
I’m playing with hopping from one path to the other,
or even being on both at once.
This helps to balance me.

The temperature is rising in my crucible.
The pressure is growing.
My heart has been trying to expand
after a lifetime of holding back.
There’s a danger of explosion,
when the lid blows off the fermentation pot.
It’s been going on for so long!
I can be in several processes at once.
Slipping back into another procedure, consciously,
has been frustrating—as if I’m regressing.
Seeing the matrix helps me orient;
it helps me accept to go where I need to go,
to attend to what calls for my attention.
It’s like a game!
No need to judge any phase of the process—they all need each other.
It feels good to allow myself to travel freely
through the phases.
Take a bath in it.
In all these past months, I’ve been in all of them,
whether consciously or not.
It’s good to be able to orient.

I remember the time
when I forged my own bowl.
The danger of fracture;
annealing when the metal no longer gives
under the hammer.
Oh! I need to be back in the fire.
Heat is an ingredient of alchemy.
I’ve been dancing through procedures,
feeling all over the map.
It’s so helpful to see it as a game!
Trusting that each aspect is necessary
sheds light on the forging process.
There are different modes of heat:
intensity of feeling, emotion, meaning.
There is no such thing as lukewarm alchemy.
Eradicating false roots—
releasing, resetting, rebooting, purifying
so I can root in new soil.
Pot-bound. Am I like my houseplants?
Can I drop into a new soil structure?
Working with the matrix:
how have I been abetting?
This too helps me understand where I am at.
Sense making rather than slogging
through the emotional terrain of symptoms.

In the haze of my moon phase
and the newness of this field.
I’m in a transition.
Different places in self and life
resonate with different alchemical phases:
Calcination to conjunction fits best.
Transition in so many ways.
Moving back from Sweden to Finland,
a continuing, a deepening, a narrowing down.
Choosing to be in Finland, with family scattered.
Movement towards more truthfulness,
a mingling of beauty and joy,
sorrow and grief.
Following a call to embrace the unknown,
accepting separation from loved ones,
with the joy of following my path.
Getting to know my soul and its purpose,
taking me away from people and places I love.
The liminal space between pieces of “not me”.

I don’t have much to say today.
I see that I’m less willing to be distracted
by the needs of others
and the dramas of life.
Concentrating on my own imperatives:
what’s brewing for me.
Integrity and integration.
Here, lockdown is getting worse.
I am remembering imagining the lockdown
in East Germany in my youth—
I’m living it now; a body reaction
to feeling locked in.
I’m experiencing being here & now.
Something is coming, and we’ve got what it takes.

I have a pot pourri of emotions in my crucible.
The negative are rising to the top,
in my efforts to make sense:
disappointment, anger, fear, conflict.
I also appreciate, empathise—also for myself.
I’m somewhere between separation and conjunction.
What do I do about it, if not turning towards
the beauty of the Earth?
To the cauldron I add
camomile for comfort,
sage for wisdom,
violets for forgiveness,
ivy for patience,
and pansies, just for the sake of it!

These questions threw me—
Breathe and welcome the epiphany.
Drawing out my alchemical kitchen,
to see through your diabolical questions!

I am in a process of shedding my conditioning.
I have an image of stepping out of a body of water,
naked, and wrapping myself around with
the soft warm towel of my own will.
Knowing that I cannot consciously will what I will,
I must deliver myself into the keeping of my soul.
I can feel, hear, taste and smell
the difference between ‘egoic’ wants and the soul’s deep will.
I had always understood
that my ego was a mechanism of protection.
Now I know that the story of needing protection is a ruse.
No part of me that is real has ever been in any danger.
I only pray that I am not waking up out of this conditioned stupor
alone!
I have no desire to witness carnage, even if it’s an illusion!

At the beginning of all this,
I was recognising the physical beginning
of the phase shift—it’ll be rocky for a while!
I have consciously chosen with which reality to align:
the acoustic flow of love.
I feel a disconnect between the without and within.
Polarities: what to do with them?
As I surrender to Unity and Flow,
the world surrenders to authoritarianism.
I choose to embody my authentic voice,
as the world surrenders to masks and muzzling.
I have yet to find the courage
to take my reality into that reality,
through fear of confrontation
and unwillingness to justify myself.
It’s a testing of focus and trust.
Can I hold my shape, with faith
that all is well?
Sinking down to food and water.
How long can I maintain myself on homegrown veggies?
Sublimation and radiation—
abetting is helpful.
Relationships are changing:
how we communicate, with whom,
agreeing to disagree, dropping acquaintances.
Separation and conjunction: practice formality
resonates in the context of relationships.
Holding conflict without seeking resolution.

My heart is racing with excitement at the question.
I’m experiencing physical discomfort, pain and sadness.
I feel muted. I’m well-conditioned to do what I’m told.
Trying to find my voice, but staying inside a lot.
Envying my children, exempt from the mask.
Lost clarity—it’s blurred.
What can be spoken now without polarity?
I want to speak, but I’m afraid to.
I keep coming back to the sheep;
I’m not a sheep because I don’t want to pay a fine?
What am I teaching my children?
Resisting on the inside, not on the outside.
Stay in love & compassion,
but it’s hard to see the point.
I’m afraid I’m traumatising my beautiful children,
guilt that I cannot add love.
Separation, conjunction, fermentation.
Balancing the abetting moves,
which seem to conflict!
There’s a lot in my crucible!

I could find myself all over that matrix!
I’m seeing, sensing, grieving, witnessing
the dismantling of what I’ve known all my life.
There is no direction here,
so the virus is rampant.
I see the false roots—my country was built
on slavery and white supremacist land ownership
requiring obliteration of the indigenous populations.
Now it’s all breaking down,
while many continue to pretend that it’s not.
How can I hold a loving presence
for the letting go and letting come,
and for the healing?
It’s also a transition for our planet—
the sun, too, is changing.
Finding ways to stay connected
with some collective coherence,
building on foundations of love.

My morning practice resonates with the question.
Synchronicity—first comes the ego,
then I wake up.
A courageous look at family history—traumatic impacts.
And my faith in the higher force that knows me so well.
My higher soul resonance is taking over,
as I move into connection with the world:
the devastation of vulnerable families—
the empathy of conjunction.
Seeing the underground mycellium that can
rise up against the autocratic forces.
Masking connects all of us—
if we know how to hold those who aren’t masked.
May all be well!
We’re all in this together.

I’m in conjunction—shifting the underlying mood state
from negation to alignment with life.
How white we are as a group. Why is that?
What does that mean about our collective work?
Invisibility. The systemic racism that has forged
our society has created that. Even in my own consciousness
seeing through to the structural violence of our society:
“Why?” “Because they…”
Is it even possible for someone to ‘deserve’ lack of love?
To serve a false master?
Releasing the malware of ‘deserve’ brings in true gratitude at life, at last!
What is the work in me?

Conjunction—
finding an authentic voice.
I have been living two lives, separate. But when I dream
I’m always in the US.
Discomfort when my worlds collide.
I haven’t felt that in these past weeks.
I’m just here, being vulnerable with myself,
learning to let things be, without trying to fix them.
Bringing together what I’ve always tried to keep separate.
The hills flooding over with trees,
vast scenes of green—dark grey greens to bright neons,
so soothing! There’s no place like home.
Me and my father, alone…
I had things to say!

Connection to my deep fatigue and numbness.
My mind accused me of resistance.
I’m tired of my stuckness.
Your voices have helped me—
the range of struggle and willingness to be vulnerable.
There’s no separation between my daily life and my inner landscape.
Conditioned stupor. My home town is such
a beautiful place—for white people!
That truth punched in my stomach with shame!
How can I live with this truth?
Who I think I am, I must leave at the door
of every moment. A constant cycle of uncertainty,
disorientation. How to navigate and stay upright
in an infinity of chaos?
Moments of stillness with my feet on the Earth,
for this woman of Earth.
Staying upright in the dissolution,
My descent: how does my humanness fit
in my transcendent philosophy?
Where does my responsibility begin and end
in an interconnected universe?
Riding the waves of shifting ground: dissolution.
How to invite more diversity?
I guess I’m just a mess!

Your voices have affected me today.
“ABET” is a new word to me.
I’ve been a negative voice in my community—
against, not for. Why was I against war, not for peace?
Black Lives Matter: what a beautiful 3 words!
My goal now is to go with the flow,
push forward with abetting—find hope
and go with the flow.
MAY ALL BE WELL!!

Much in motion—all procedures have
their place and timing, form, cycle, function.
Can we trust this?
Being light-footed and sure-footed:
when something is in motion, move with it.
I am reminded of my time in the Navy,
Securing for sea, before leaving harbour.
There’s potential for capsizing.
What am I aligned to? What must I tend?
Souls on deck, shining like gold.
The energy of stillness, in between procedures,
down in the belly of the ship,
and stillness on the bridge.
MAY ALL BE WELL.
How to be a lighted presence
as I wear a mask?

It’s been an intense few days,
witnessing dramatically since 2016.
Sometimes I find myself back in the past.
Offering lighted presence, but feeling inadequate—
bringing in from past lives & other realms.
Swirling times—even in those other realms
there’s a break in the moving circle.


Who showed up

Ellen Decoodt, Inte Koster, An van Dam, Anna Brunain, Brigitte Kupfer, Marina Lynch, Laurie Lynch, Wini Condic Begov, Jessica Srikantia, Patricia Hunt Perry, Judy Wallace, Madeleine Schwab, Molly Whiteley, Louise Carpenter, Lynda Griebenow, Sarah Whiteley, Helen Titchen Beeth.



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