Power of Opinion

Saturday morning, and, having decided to cut my weekly washing into 4 loads rather than 2, I’m awaiting the machine wash-cycle’s pleasure and watching the news on the BBC.

(I watch the Beeb because, frankly, I prefer their use of language – rather than the parochial butcherings of the US or South African news services.)

A segment on Honduran immigrants to the US comes on.

The Trump ‘regime’ (it’s really a shit-show lead by an incompetent con artist, but ‘regime’ will do) has decided to end the protection given up to now to refugees from Honduras.

An elderly Honduran woman is among those interviewed. Speaking in Spanish, she opines that, while ‘gringos’ are undoubtedly intelligent, they sure aren’t hard-working like Hondurans.

Now, that is a blanket statement of racial bias if ever I heard one. But she is elderly, non-White…and a woman. These 3 characteristics give her a status slightly above a dormouse in the social hierarchy. If she had been, say, a middle-aged White bloke, her statement amounting to “Whites are lazy” would have been roundly condemned, and probably not been allowed to be aired at all.But there she ws, on international television, blithely calling Whites lazy and no-one batting an eyelid.

What this underlined most strongly for me was that your position on the social ladder determines the power of your opinion. Someone (that middle-aged White bloke for example) has the power to,presumably, hire and fire people, and his opinion carries a much greater weight of authority than that of the elderly Latina woman. So she gets away with it, whereas he, these days, wouldn’t.

And that’s OK. With great privilege comes great responsibility, both for our selves and for others, so the higher your social standing, the more powerful your every opinion truly becomes.

But for this morning, I just had a laugh-out-loud moment.


Spider Dreams

Can we take a single step which we have not mapped out for ourselves?

Is this Creation entire, without the possibility of stepping outside of its bounds?

Are we simultaneously dreaming and being?

For if we are both the dreamer and the dream, no misstep is possible – it’s not even possible to formulate that possibility.

Creator and Creation entire, whole, flawless and without boundary.

Earth, Water, Air, Fire – Today’s Musical Earworms

Covering the compass today with the songs which are stuck in my head.

For Air and Earth:

Dust In The Wind by Todd Rundgren (1972)

For Fire and Water:

Fire and Rain by James Taylor (1970)

..although the Tim Hardin version is good, too.

These are two very similar songs, written less than 2 years apart. I was faintly surprised that the Rundgren song was later, as the Runt was often a groundbreaker in styles, sentiment and sound engineering.

But you can segue from one song to the other in your head with hardly a pause.


There’s nothing quite like the Samhain tide to open your emotions.

It is said that twice a year, at Samhain and Beltane, the veil between the worlds becomes tenuous and crossings from one to the other are more common. But in my case, I reckon it’s just that at these times I’m more aware of the existence of the veil, and other worlds, than at more mundane times.

And so I am dreaming, and nightmaring, enough to keep me for the rest of the year, it seems.

My loved ones and ancestors are featuring quite heavily in my dreams – sometimes unrecognisable by their appearance yet completely known for who they are and were to me – old fears are playing themselves out and connections are being rebooted.

Head tipped back into the (finally) winter-blue sky this morning, I watch a fairy crossing above me.

No…not a fairy…a locust, with its rainbow wings whirring. I remember that I am quite averse to locusts on the ground and step out of its flight path quickly.

Music is getting stuck in my mind, so I switch my electronic collection on to shuffle and listen to Joe WalshCorvus Corax and Tim Hardin. Ah, the poor heroin-addicted boy who never managed to claw his way out of the poppy’s grip before it killed him.

Emotions are raw yet surprisingly manageable in this season of other-worldly connection.

I view a house a friend (and teenage sweetheart) used to live in as a boy – 4 doors down on Arthur Road, long since sold up as the matriarch’s health failed.

I reconnect with the Covenant of Hekate, thinking to honour Her Fires again this year, when the Moon is right.

I miss the Gautrain Bus, the drivers of which have been on strike for almost a week now, and don’t fancy the stress of driving in a car through Sandton traffic this afternoon – never mind what stress it must be giving Warren to do the actual driving.

I remember my Mom, who, when last seen in the dreamworld was wearing a different face, whose last-incarnation-birthday it is today.

Happy Birthday, Mom. I miss you still.

I’m thinking the tide will be gentler this year, as I get older and possibly more able to handle it. The retrograde motions of both Saturn and Pluto in Capricorn seem to be helping this softer view along. We introspected our immediate daily souls last month with the Mercury backtrack, and now a slightly higher portion of our collective Self will be pondering the tracks and ruts of time and space.

Hopefully. As past the veil we slide together, holding hands, some of us shrieking, some of us crying, some of us looking about in wonder and awe.Tides.


Beneath the ground, a river runs.

In the darkness of the mass unconscious, a river flows.

Some of us it flows right through and others of us it flows around, and under – and we get to dip a toe in  it now and again.

Some of us were born with the river within, and some have opened their veins to admit it.

But all of us were born of the river.

It is the source and constant flow of all of Life. Endless, eternal, never ceasing.

To merge with its waters is the sublime experience of death, for from the river’s flow arises all that is.

Five rivers do encircle Hades but this river is just the One. Which flows. Underground.

Image: eronzki999

Washed Into The West

My favourite astrologer, Robert Wilkinson, always has a first-class take on what’s going on in the spiritual skies ( as opposed to the physical skies, which is more my own realm of competence) and so I always find it worthwhile to take some time and read his posts thoroughly.

His approach is vastly more universal than your average astrologer, in my opinion. For instance, his current article on Saturn retrograde is high-caloric food for thought.

If I were to paraphrase what Robert is saying from my own iconoclastic viewpoint, I’d just say that we (as the Body of God) have entered a period of introspection of, and potential freeing from our personal and collective demons.

Saturn is turning retrograde at 10 Capricorn today, and as someone with a Natal Saturn at just over 3 Capricorn, I fall within the span of this planet’s to-ing and fro-ing over the next number of months. I hope to get a good deal of personal exorcism done during this period.

But first, let us take the opportunity of the stationary direct point to start looking closely at our own fear-based limitations, with a view to setting them free of us, Washed into the West, in the relatively near future.