King Arthur and the White Hart

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Sacred Tree

In conscious twilight dreaming, I see myself down in the earth around the roots of an enormous tree. I move around from root to root to feel and connect with the wide expanse that roots this magnificent tree in the earth. I then travel up through the core of the trunk of the tree, but find it difficult to move upward, because I encounter energy blocks inside the trunk.

I begin to feel the fear that I have stored there, and I consciously allow my fears to come undone. When the blockage is removed, I am aware my dreams have now also become unleashed. The fears held there were blocking my dreams from coming through. Now my dreams are free to be gathered each night and morning as I enter sleep and later awaken.  Now I can move freely up the core of the tree, into the hartwood.

White Hart

I am suddenly called to step out and into the middle realm. I am deep in a wooded forest, where a young king stands alone with his white horse to take water at the stream. He is handsome with shoulder length blonde hair, and blue eyes. He wears fine clothing and a simple gold crown. His back adorned with a silken purple cape and his hands are protected by tailor made leather riding gloves. He stares at the water with a look of peace and serenity, taking in every moment of the rare chance to be alone in the wild. Watching his horse drink from the stream, he looks up when hearing a crack in the wood. He stands face to face with the huge dark eyes of the stag staring back at him. There is something between them, something being transmitted, yet unspoken. It is a destiny, it is a sign. The White Hart then leaps across the wide stream and moves up the bluff until reaching a vantage point where he can look down upon the strange encounter he has just discovered. He will turn up again when the time is right.

Upper Realm Journey

Now I am called back to my sacred tree to move ever upward until finding the very tips of each branch as it reaches skyward. I scan the reach of this tree, it is broad and reaches high into the heavens. It holds home to many birds who lay in her branches tucked safely from harm. The trunk is strong and stable, and the roots reach wide and deep. I am now perched on the tiptop of the branches like a bird, surveying the view from uptop of the world. I am called to move ever higher in my journey and enter the upper realms. I look up and see a rope drop down, and a helping hand emerges to pull me up to the next level.

A rip in the fabric of time

I find myself dreaming in the twilight zone hoping for sleep or dreams to find me. A dream draws near me, tearing a rip in the fabric of darkness, that makes up my inner space. Upper and lower are pulled apart to reveal the brightness of the sun piercing through like the break of day.  From this space, now torn wide open, I can see the energy of another dimension spilling through into mine. I begin to see etheric beings stepping into my dreamspace, making their way toward me, moving ever closer. One moves close enough to come into view and I begin to make out the details of his person. He is a King in his prime years, experienced and fearless. He holds his hand extended out toward me. In it he holds, what looks to be the head of a man, or perhaps a skull. When I look closer, I see it is made from beeswax.

Glastonbury

Mythic Reflections

There are tales of King Arthur in connection with the white hart deer, one of which is at the wedding feast of King Arthur and Guinevere at Camelot. A White Hart Deer was seen to enter the great hall, followed by the chaos of a white dog followed by 30 hunting dogs, a fair maiden in pursuit of the white dog, and a knight in pursuit of the maiden. At the behest of Merlin, King Arthur orders they should all be brought back and chooses Sir Gawain to bring back the white hart. He is accompanied by two other knights, who gave chase to return the white hound and the fair maiden. The maiden was killed accidentally by Gawain who fought the knight for her. The White Hart and White Hound were returned to Camelot.

There is another tale that takes place at a Christmas feast at Camelot, when Sir Gawain encounters the Green Knight who challenges the knights of the round table to cut off his head and in a year and a day return to have the same fate returned. Sir Gawain is the only knight to accept the challenge and he takes the hatchet and chops of the head of the Green Knight, who then catches his own head in his hand.

Sir Gawain returns to the Green Chapel at the coming of Christmas the next year to honor his part of the bargain with the Green Knight. On New Year’s Day, he meets up at the Green Chapel to receive the returning ax blow to cut off his head, but his life is sparred after three tries by the Green Knight. He is found to have been given a green girdle talisman of a fair maiden to protect his life.

What will the coming year bring with the mythic themes of King Arthur and the White Hart spilling into my dreams? A spiritual quest maybe in the offering for the coming year. Time will tell, in a year and a day, if my head will be cut off or not.  I will be sure to make plenty of magic talismans this year.  The Green Knight is steeped in the older traditions of the Green Man. The King of the Wood, as protector and consort of the Goddess, is sacrificed in the yearly ritual. When winter comes, the Green Man becomes the old man of winter and he is sacrificed in a ritual fire to be reborn at Beltane.  The reborn sacred king and goddess are joined in a sacred marriage to fertilize the land. It is then, that his power is bestowed upon him by the goddess and held in the land that he serves.

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Mariposa Movement

By Valley Reed December 2007

Mariposa Movement

With the flap of the wings of a butterfly,

a hurricane was started halfway across the earth.

Sometimes the effects of one action can set something in motion so powerful it can pull the powers of the wind and the sea together creating an awe inspiring force.  Once in awhile, in the midst of the long struggle for peace and justice, an activist may see the effects of their heartfelt message break through the barriers of greed and ignorance. If we are blessed we will see the fruits of our actions turn from song and vigil for the oppressed and voiceless to freedom and justice.

One morning, I awoke from a dream with the phrase “Mariposa Movement” on my mind. I recalled the dream from the previous night where people gave up their places of comfort and status within the American Empire to stand in solidarity with Mexican immigrants, Indigenous peoples and Muslim Immigrants who are currently being demonized by the United States. These honest hard working people are being described as criminals, terrorists, child molesters, and drug dealers. I remember how inspired I felt upon waking from the dream with the idea it was presenting of a Solidarity movement to tear down the walls of class, racism and separation that are currently being built along our borders. It was shortly after this dream I was presented with the opportunity to accompany several fellow activists down to visit Taylor, Texas where a demonstration was planned with activists from all around the state of Texas. The focus of the action was the Don T. Hutto residential detention center where families are locked up along with their children while waiting for their case to process and seeking safe assylum in the U.S. These families seeking safe haven are being treated like criminals, along with their children, and imprisonment of children is in violation of International Law and Sacred Law.

On this day as we sit outside of these prison walls in Taylor Texas at the Don T. Hutto Residential Detention Center we are drumming to free the children inside. I tried to imagine what it would take to open the doors and allow those inside to have their freedom. I remembered the story of the Shoshone Medicine Man, Rolling Thunder, the story was of one of freedom.

Rolling Thunder had stood up for justice in his day, to demand freedom for his Shosone brothers who were locked up for refusing to fight an imperial U.S. war against Vietnam. Rolling Thunder was a Medicine Man and an activist for indigenous rights and the environment. He was known to have abilities such as effecting the weather by calling in the rain, the wind and the lightning. He demanded the release of his brothers and when the guards did not heed his call, he summoned the powers of the sky, and called a tornado directly toward the prison.

The guards became so frightened they let the two Shoshone men go they held prisoner. I looked to the story of Rolling Thunder for inspiration as I drummed an African Beat called Kaki Lambe on my Jimbe Drum, it is an African drumbeat used to call to spirits for assistance in times of dire need. My partner, Hadi Jawad, had taught me the rythmn and it was his strong desire that we bring the drums so that the children inside could hear us drumming through the thick prison walls. Together we drummed the rhythmn and I focused my attention on every beat. I connected my intention toward spirit for an answer, I closed my eyes as I drummed and released myself to the sound. It was then a clear vision appeared, and I saw the spirit of an immense White Eagle that flew to the front doors of the prison, opening them and letting me know that every child inside would feel the presence of the eagle and know that we were there. Later that afternoon, an indigenous looking man with long dark hair approached me and expressed his thanks. He had been listening to the drumming throughout the day while we played and he let me know how important drumming is to the Native People. He said, “We believe the drums are sacred,  and they call in the power of the Great Spirit.” I said “Yes!” and I immediately shared with him my vision of seeing the spirit of the White Eagle flying through the front doors of the building. The spirits had heard our call and come to our aid.

After the last song was sung of the candle light vigil, we moved in the direction of leaving after a full day of drumming, protesting, singing and vigiling. The sun was going down and it was starting to get cold. Suddenly, something began to happen, instead of the crowd dispersing, people began to spontaneously move toward the doors of the prison demanding to speak to the warden! We joined in the movement of protestors toward the front door where official vehicles tried to block our path. We boldly walked around them as water flows around stones, we also crossed over the line we were “officially” told to stay behind. The crowd moved right up to the doors of the prison and people began to open the doors and fill into the building singing Feliz Navidad and chanting solidarity forever! Many people still holding candles aflame from the candlelight vigil we had finished just shortly before. People then began shouting, “Bring in the Toys!” A flood of Christmas toys began to appear with people carrying boxes and bags of toys overflowing. The gifts and were brought inside from the 200 or so protesters who had come from all around Texas to make their voices heard against the immorality of imprisoning families. This experience of breaking through the prison doors was elating to all those who came to participate in the vigil. Spirit was among us, and flying high this day just as the eagle had foretold.

This movement that took us right through the front doors of the prison may have begun from the flap of a butterfly’s wings in Mexico. Mariposa means butterfly and it also means soul. It is said that the butterflies who migrate South to Mexico are the returning souls of lost children. To the Native People sacred law states that children shall always be protected and that no harm shall come to the children.

Free The Children!

Let me share with you this beautiful song that was sang as one of the closing songs during the candlelight vigil.

Circle round for freedom,

Circle round for peace,

for all of those imprisoned,

Circle for release.

Circle round the Planet,

Circle for each soul.

For the children of our children,

Keep the Circle Whole.