"My name is growing all the time, and I've lived a very long, long time; so my name is like a story. Real names tell you the story of the things they belong to in my language, in the Old Entish as you might say. It is a lovely language, but it takes a very long time to say anything in it, because we do not say anything in it, unless it is worth taking a long time to say, and to listen to." ~Treebeard
urprisingly, or maybe not so surprisingly if the unconsciousness is involved, there is much in our daily routine of living which we make so hum drum we give ourselves no reason to look beyond the edge of our noses into the details of our world. Surprising in that we have become so scientifically focused and technologically dependent, both fields demand attention to detail and for science, ideally, an openness to any possibility which has been proven beneficial. At one point in time dark matter and quantum physics were considered flights of fancy and yet their discovery has altered the course of our science world wide. Why should the presence of beings such as Trolls, Faeries, Orges, Elves and yes..even Dragons be any different? They have been around just as long with just as much corresponding data to their presence. I myself have worked with a Troll or two, one of which looked like he swallowed a mountain and the other a bean pole framed thing whose skin blistered in the sunlight and would turn to stone, yet he roamed freely the halls of state human services agencies, barking his desires and hiding behind policy development and his clumsy charms of enchantment-which ultimately failed him and drove him from the buildings. The other fattened himself on the sufferings and hardships of others, plundering and looting among the community until those others of his ilk turned upon him leaving him to face the pitchforks, torches and judgement of the gallows while they crawled back into their caverns or darkness with nothing to show for their efforts except wanted posters and decays in whatever they touched. One need only to follow their path of destruction to find them. No ostentatious names, everyday ones they carried, Just Dave, Mike, Alex, Don, Leon, Eugene, Rebecca, Ethan, Greg, Farren to name a few. The names often change, but their nature remains.
est one come to expect these beings are creatures of shadow and contact should be avoided with them. There are also those being of light as well, just as the human race has members of shadow and light as well but should I suggest we all avoid contact with one another? Or simply be selective in whom we spend our time with? It is clearly understood by being both seen and unseen who is welcome in my home and who is not. That list may change, for whatever reason but that simple knowledge is enough. Those who are not welcome that show up find themselves not staying long, their very nature works against them. There are things in this world beyond our power to stop, so the most reasonable request we can make of them is to leave us alone and enlist the aid of the powers of the light to see that happens. When I sit in my library or out in the gardens, there is a sense of presence which I can feel but not see. I think these are living, breathing entities who physical presence I can only be aware of on an intuitive level. So why not make the leap such entities are present in the world of our senses. The clerk ringing up our purchases, the state trooper or police officer writing out tickets or responding to emergencies may be one of these beings disguised. Numerous faiths acknowledge the common occurrence of divine beings visiting us in the guise of our fellow man and we accept that as fact. If it is indeed so, what is stopping them today from doing so. That stranger who offers us unasked for assistance, or that creepy fellow whose presence just seemed out of place and yet nothing was done to confirm that. The greedy or inhuman CEO may simply be in the guise of a well dressed woman or man of successful stature, when the reality is we are dealing not with a human being but an ogre. How do we know for sure? We don't. Our humane virtues are not reserved for our own species but for others as well. We can barely tolerate each other let alone other species so what do we have to offer other beings and without knowing what we can offer, we can not understand their contributions to life.
hese days, I seem to sit more frequently on the border lands between my own existence and that of many beings my own species has relegated to myth and imagination. These are being I once interacted with in my youth, when I still believed Angeles walk among us, spoke to us and we were on a first name basis with. As I grew up, I was taught as an adult there were better things to pursue such as money and holding the correct political or religious belief (which it turns out those are mythical concepts). That imagination isn't useful, art and reading are useless unless they somehow make your rich, or obtain you influence and power. As adults we have been conditioned to unsee the underlying world around us, to forget the knowledge we are inherently born with that tells us the things adults say are make believe are reality they have conditioned themselves not to see, despite their own religious writings which tell them otherwise and their own cultural knowledge. Today if it doesn't emanate from a smartphone or social media it doesn't exist. It is uncool to pick up a book and read it, that's what technology is for but technology is not the same as reading. Physically reading from a book changes our brain structure, lights up important areas of the brain. Books on technology do not have the same effect. It is the same as watching television, the brain becomes passive and fixated and enters into a stupor as if we were high or drunk. Parts of the brain shut down and continue to do so long after we are offline. Long enough and it will be permanent. In the process we also lose the capacity to see beyond our own senses, the realm of imagination becomes blurred as does the ability to believe in such things as magic, elves or goblins. We also diminish our connections to the natural world, that common ground for all humanity and every species. We lose the ability to see the common enemy of both worlds means the Leon Iuenco, Eugen Simmons and Dave Nielsen's of this world are also the enemies of the other as well. They are the human counter parts to Ogres, Orcs, Goblin, Trolls and renegade dwarves, or perhaps those real things who have slithered into the human world. Unholy alliances set, fell foods consumed and the human race their source of blood soaked goblet and fingers.
itting on my garden bench, letting the sounds of the fountain soothe my ears and the breeze bring me whispers of the heavens, stars and far away snow capped mountains, I found myself slipping into what some may call trance or deep meditation, where i am conscious of all around me and yet standing in a distinct different place where the worlds overlap each other. Some call it the sacred space, others call it the holy ground. One of the old names is twixt the worlds. It is a place of profound peace, and of clarity and as I sit underneath one of the elder trees, leather bound book in my hands there is activity which poasses me by. A herd of elk, a family of fox eating from a nearby berry bush, later a few riders whose faint shimmering tells me possibly one of the Sidhe and one of them looks like an assistant District Attorney I know but have not seen for quite a while. Not far I know will be a small village, a village of artists who love life and value hospitality. The nearby larger town considers them oddities and yet, somehow their absence would profoundly cast the town into shadow, thick and dark for that is what lurks around it and through their streets. However it does so powerless to harm, for the moment. Here there is no limitations, only possibilities. A festival and a wake are the same thing here, there is always a celebration of live lived and being lived, an inclusive ongoing delight of inclusiveness to celebrate the waxing and waning of the moon, the coming of winter or seasons just as fully as celebrating ones birth and making sure in ones passing there is more joy than sorrow left behind. One is just as likely to see nobility walking down the street as one is one of the Fey as a blacksmith, baker or simple farmer.
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