Momma Matrix

“The ‘public’ has no history, has no future, lives in a golden moment created by credit, which binds them ineluctably to a fascist system that is never criticized. This is the ultimate consequence of having broken off this symbiotic relationship with the vegetable, feminine, maternal matrix of the planet.”

Terence McKenna

The Bard McKenna articulated these thoughts on bondage of the human ape about twenty years ago.

This morning, walking with the partner and Scylla and Taranis down at the Field and Study Centre, I kept picking up murmurs from the plant kingdom wherever we rambled – avoiding the poisoned river, pretty as it was.

Some relative of the Perlagonum family was abundantly underfoot, while Datura clung near the riverbanks, and a plant whose facility for healing wounds was shouted loud from its every cell brushed my takkies on the leaf-mulched path. My senses wide open to this low key communication, I was still present enough to the animal kingdom to take great delight in Taranis’ calm acceptance of dogs, bicycles, people and four-by-fours which met us along the way.

It strikes me that Terence said a mouthful, there in the 1980s, as he predicted the archaic revival which is blooming even now in many of our souls. The drugs, he said, are those substances which cause unwanted, harmful, repetitive behaviour – a compulsion which takes us over and craves more of the same as time goes on. Tobacco, alcohol, heroin, crystal meth – these are all drugs. Television, compulsive shopping, mindless watching of ‘sports’, the making of money in obscenely unnecessary amounts – these are drugs of choice for many millions of the civilised.

We are trying to address a great hunger which our deepest souls are aware of. A hunger which goes unsatisfied, plugged by trips to the shopping mall,hallelujah-ing on a Sunday morning, or being bound up in the daily soapie, completely missing the point that these drugs have us in chains. Chains which only a reconnection to the animus mundi can loosen. And then there’s the work to do -but it’s a start.

Listening to the plants, hearing the cries of the land, talking to the birds and being blessed by them in return – these are all authentic remedies for what ails us.

The wild sense of insecurity we have fallen prey to, which causes us to go to war, build hugely harmful empires, abuse and rape the earth and her lifeforms; this which calls us to achieve, and over achieve, and ‘make our mark’ in the world – all of this is stilled when one accesses the real, almost inexplicable sense of Love of the cosmos for each one of us.
No namby-pamby love is this, no ‘Jesus died for your sins’, no all encompassing passport to salvation by human sacrifice. This is the universe knowing itself. This is the cosmos looking out for you -not because it wants you to have a late-model Mercedes or a beautiful home – but because it can’t help but do this.
You are that, you see. And when that realisation takes hold, when the eros of our lost connection reaches into the core of your Being, all doubts and inferiority complexes are trivialised.
We are stardust, and we are earth soil, and our breath is the song of the stars. We cannot be separated from All That Is, except by our very own poisons and neuroses.

Even if you are lying dying in a ditch – and I know, for I was there – the Love of the All is a reality you cannot escape, whether you are open to it or not.
And that should be what we are teaching our children, instead of how to make a fast buck, or how to defeat another human in the game of life.

I am, you are, and we cannot help but Be. God .

“How can we know who is the other until we know who is the self?”

Pic: Sandton Field and Study Centre

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