We live in a strange world where its inhabitants, called humans, have a weird tendency to believe that other humans are fundamentally different to them and opposed to them. Don’t go to Planet Earth – the inhabitants there are dangerous, mainly to themselves. This is a bizarre aspect of this particular world.
That’s a paragraph from my book Blogging in Bethlehem. I woke up this morning with the idea to serialise it as an audio book.
But then I wondered whether enough people would be interested to justify the effort. It’s not a very long book (unusually for me). At a guess it would land up as three hours of listening, sectioned into 30ish minute segments.
So I’m wondering about that. Any views?
I can’t start today anyway, because the wind is rattling around too much for sound recording! But I have my cancer treatment tomorrow/Weds – a nurse comes round and it takes just 45 mins. I might well be buzzing on that sufficiently in the following two days to start recording – you never know. Depends on the winds.
My life goes in four-week cycles and treatment affects my psyche, stomach and daily life for around a week. That’s weird for an astrologer who has lived life attuned to natural cycles of a more elastic kind, rather than to a calendrically-regularised grinding cog of time, with a periodicity determined by medication.
Down’ere at the end of Cornwall, stuck out in the Atlantic, we’re getting a lot of high wind and storming. It’s a bit reminiscent of the stormy winter of 2014. The birds are lying low.
Dolphins playing the waves at Nanjizal Bay, Cornwall
And talking of calendars – specifically Gregorian ones – may the rest of your year remain happy. In the end, happiness is a decision of the heart, not an ideal set of circumstances that only occasionally crop up – then they go again. Happy times.
Rather like Greenwich Mean Time, the Gregorian calendar is a vestige of European imperialism. Nowadays it’s neatly called the ‘Common Era’, as if to conceal its origins, and GMT is re-named UT, or ‘universal time’ – except the universe doesn’t follow it.
It might be one of those post-colonial vestiges that stick around for some time. Perhaps the only situation to change this will come when we finally adjust our lives on Earth to the wider universe.
Watching intently. Portheras Cove, West Penwith, Cornwall
Until such a time, since we’re dangerous, we’re under a form of quarantine. Dangerous to the universe and dangerous to ourselves. Most strange.
It sounds simple, but the solution is happiness (as a decision of the heart). The way things are now, though, it looks really complex. Especially with vexatious warring and all manner of dissonances going on.
It needs modelling and shoving through supercomputers because we believe we can sort things out mentally, if only we have enough data. But mentality simply sorts data, even if intelligently. Decisions are made in the heart, the womb and the gut – the parts that AI can only imitate, though it cannot reach.
At this juncture of history, we have a lot of rather big decisions to make. We humans need to get more happy and become less dangerous. Less dissonance, more resonance.
It will affect climate change in a big way, with instantaneous results.
Think about it. But not too much. And I won’t either.
It’s funny. I’ve always had a strange allergy to Christmas. In recent weeks I’ve been looking into this issue. What is bizarre is that I have lived in the Baltic region – the source of Father Christmas and sleighbells – and also in Bethlehem – the source of the Christ-is-born part of the package. So I’ve lived in the source-places of Christmas but I’m not particularly into it. Well, we all have our weird pathologies.
I have fond memories of both places – of genuine sleighbells (except on horses pulling sledges through the snow-bedecked forest), and of crowds of the devout in Manger Square, Bethlehem, during the three Christmases they have (Catholic, Orthodox and Armenian) at roughly two-week intervals. When I was in Bethlehem one Christmas I wrote a blog about it all. The town customarily welcomes 100,000 visitors for the Christmas Pilgrimage, and often it’s utter madness in town. It’s not happening this year: Palestinians are really downhearted, in no mood for celebrating the birth of a holy child, or celebrating anything.
I’ve asked myself why I have this Yuletide allergic reaction. In my case, part of the answer is Asperger’s Syndrome – ‘Wrong Planet Syndrome’. It’s an inherent feeling of outsideness, and it brings both benefits and problems. It’s a bit like the day you land in a foreign country: you understand nothing of the language and you experience the funky quirks of that country with the eye of an outsider – like the smelly toilets in Austria, the crooked telegraph poles in USA, or the way that Australian wildlife is busily noisy in the night and quiet during the day, or the sheer colourful intensity and olfactory richness of India, or the foot-washing places outside mosques in Jordan.
Another factor was the Christmases we had in our rather dysfunctional family. I couldn’t stand the pressure to ‘behave myself’ and to eat food I didn’t really like. Things got more interesting when I was around age eleven, when my parents started inviting three or four foreign students from the School of Tropical Medicine in Liverpool to our house for Christmas Day. Suddenly I was meeting people from Uganda, India, Hong Kong, Egypt and Barbados. But even then I was frustrated because we had to enact the Christmas rituals and suffer the stomachic consequences instead of getting into far more interesting things… and meanwhile my mother worked her socks off, not enjoying Christmas at all, and getting annoyed with my father, my brother or me for reasons I never fully understood.
I’d stand there thinking ‘Why can’t we make this easier and have a good time together without all this fuss and bother?‘. But relentlessly, each year, it had to be done. I never quite figured out why. So perhaps that’s a cause of my allergy.
In Bethlehem, as a lifelong vegetarian, it was always a bit difficult passing the meat market – another rich olfactory experience. I turned vegetarian long ago in 1971 and, for fortyish years, people would regard folks like me as strange and awkward, missing something important in life. In Palestine I got away with it by saying it was part of my religion – and that’s something they easily accept and oblige. However, to a vegetarian, being vegetarian is a perfectly logical and sound way of behaving and conducting one’s life. Being an Aspie is rather like that – you’re regarded as strange, abnormal and in need of correction, while from your own minority viewpoint the world around you is incomprehensible and crazy.
An Indonesian Christian rock band, Manger Square, Bethlehem
Yet Aspergers is not a programming error – it’s a different operating system. I believe it’s not really a ‘spectrum’ issue either – to me, that’s a neurotypical excuse for not really understanding what’s going on. The way I see it, you’re either an Aspie or you aren’t, since this concerns operating systems, and the spectrum bit relates to an Aspie’s capacity to adjust, or not, to the world around – what’s called the ‘Aspie mask’. How well we adjust depends a lot on how we were brought up – whether we were encouraged to grow into being ourselves or whether we had to conform to imposed behaviours that weren’t our own. That adjustment factor is what gives the appearance of a continuous ‘autistic spectrum’.
It seems that the proportion of Aspies, Autistics, ADHDs and others in society is increasing, and this is an evolutionary change for humanity. It’s the direction the world is heading in and it’s happening for a reason. It’s not a problem, and Aspies and Auties generally aren’t ill or malfunctioning. Actually, there is cause for us to feel sympathy for ordinary, neurotypical people and the templated, frameworked world they live in.
It has a fascinating side to it, inasmuch as, not seeing life in the same way as most other people, your perceptions are inherently out-of-the-box. So it means that you can come up with solutions that seem mad to some and brilliant to others – depending largely on whether their primary optic looks forwards or backwards. It also has a problematic side because it’s then a matter of whether it’s possible for that perspective to be expressed and accepted in society, for our strengths to be taken up and valued. This is slowly changing as society notes a growing variety of interesting public figures with this ‘condition’.
This was my problem. At Christmas, it was the implicit social requirement to behave in certain prescriptive ways, irrespective of how I felt inside myself, and the indulgence, waste and pretence of the relentlessly rolling bulldozer of Christmas behaviours. It grated for me and still does, and my own Xmas-avoidance can grate for other people.
In the 1980s, when I was in my thirties, I decided to clarify things, come out with it and just stop doing Christmas. If I was unclear I’d get drawn back into it, so I got clear and became ‘antisocial’ instead. In the later 1980s I started doing non-Christmas retreats for about ten people in the mountains of Snowdonia, which were fully booked. There would be no Xmas rigmarole, no presents, no special food or boozing, and we’d have silence and personal time up to 2pm each day and then hanging out together after that. The people who came to the retreats would rest, recharge and have some genuine human togetherness, without all the ritual. We had a great time!
Even though I’ve played a significant part in encouraging ceremony and ritual in Glastonbury, in the camps movement and elsewhere, and I’ve designed and led a good number of ceremonies myself, I’m not really into ceremony and ritual very much. I prefer to act spontaneously, picking up on and acting out the drama of the moment without making plans or imposing structures. I think this arises from a psychic sense of participating in a much broader and deeper reality-landscape and dialogue than many non-psychics perceive. If you’re in the right inner state, the spirits of the four directions will come and be there with you without needing much invitation. Like perceptive humans, they get a sense of where the action is and they go there.
I used to have problems when attending funerals. The vicar would be standing there leading the funeral service, while the hovering soul, looking for someone receptive, would find me sitting there in the pews. In some cases they would want me to lead the service, since I would be able more properly to speak on their behalf. But this was not to be, and I had to tell them so, secretly in my thoughts – the formalities had to be adhered to during such a solemn occasion.
The dead and the beings of the otherworlds run their own realities in parallel to ours, and the objective in ceremony is to bring those worlds closer. However, a direct psychic connection renders formalised ceremony less necessary – the action happens in ‘deep thought’. Formalised ceremony can indeed truly entrance people, enacting something that genuinely helps the interaction between worlds but, in my judgement, many ceremonies don’t do this as much as they could. The soul-quality of it can be obscured by the script. While many participants might wish to believe the gods are present, only sometimes do they seem to really feel it in their hearts and through their antennae. So there can be an element of pious game-playing to it. I hope I don’t offend by saying that. One of the things I’ve had to learn is how to say awkward things in an acceptable way – it took until my mid-thirties – and I’m not sure whether I’ve succeeded in that.
So, at funerals I have run, I asked people to address the departed soul directly, not as him or her but as you – since that soul was actually there (well, most times – there can be exceptions). It can be quite upsetting to someone who has just died to hear yourself being talked about and ignored by old friends and family, as if you no longer exist. I’d invite people to participate in a talking-stick process, each giving a short anecdote of their interaction with the deceasing person, addressing them personally as you – we were talking to that person about their life, and this is an important life-review process to help a departing soul understand nuances of their life that they’d perhaps never seen before. People were really moved by this. But I haven’t noticed such a method being widely adopted.
Bethlehem. But do they need to import north European pagan imagery such as sleighbells? Most Arabs don’t even understand what a sleigh is.
Winter Solstice and Christmas are important times for connecting with and reflecting on ancestry, origins, custom and tradition, but their importance lies not so much in ritual observance or cringeing Christmas habits as it lies in shared feeling and togetherness. It’s a time of social love and mutual support. The past is not important in itself, except inasmuch as it has some relevance to the present as a stabilising though not as a constraining factor.
There’s something wonderful about Christmas – the gathering of clans, the giving of gifts and the feasting. But for much of human history there has been a different context to these: today, in affluent societies, the feasting isn’t really necessary or good for us, and we already mostly have what we need so gifts have acquired hyper-consumption undertones, and while the gathering of families and friends can be wonderful, it can also be mixed in atmosphere, landing up with the TV, alcohol and niggly narrow-mindedness controlling the occasion.
Over the years I’ve found that, before Christmas, I get a slightly humbug, silent-to-disapproving response from many people when I tell them I’m not interested in it. Then after Christmas I’m told I’m lucky, or even envied. Most strange. We live in a very schizoid world. Some years, such as this year, with the devastation of Gaza, or back in 2004 with the Tsunami, the contradictions get quite stark, with people hungry in one place and over-filled in another, and both having a hard time over it. Sorry, but this doesn’t strike me as a good way to design the world of the future.
Anyway, that’s just me – though perhaps I’m articulating something for a few others too. Plenty of people are alone or lonely at Christmas. I am happy for those who are happy celebrating Christmas – it’s good for society to do things like this. And also I think about people who are unhappy about it, either because they’re left out or because they feel obliged to play along with something they don’t really feel right about. Perhaps Christmas needs a redesign to fit the reality of our current time. Less of the consumption, profiteering and excess, and more of the human aspect of things – the peace and the goodwill.
The Church of the Nativity (on the site of an Apollo temple and a Canaanite Goddess temple)
This is important. On the run-up to Christmas, one issue that has been bugging me is that I’m getting too many requests for help from people in many places and situations around the world, and it’s getting to be too much. Human need on Planet Earth is rising. My own sense of peace and goodwill has been under test. I’m currently working on three missions and I have the capacity for one. I’m having to remind people not to depend too much on me, because one day they won’t get an answer – I’ll be incapacitated or dead. I can’t find people to take on these people and their needs for help, all of which are genuine and legitimate. So that presents a problem. They need to get sorted out and back on their feet, and it’s good for us, for our souls, to take on karma-yogic responsibilities such as these. Well, that’s what I have found, at least.
So I’ve been experiencing compassion fatigue. Too many people asking for help. I have to remind them I am not a public-service help agency – I’m an old crock running on three cylinders. This fatigue has been accentuated by a need to re-focus on my own life – after all, living with cancer is a wee bit challenging – and on keeping my own head above water. If I don’t do this, I might well have a shorter life, meaning that I won’t be here any more for these people to contact. But then, to be ruthlessly honest, perhaps I need them as much as they need me.
But then, after I pop my clogs I’ll be Upstairs, accessible at least to those who attune their inner devices sufficiently and sign in to the dialogue. It’s certainly possible for me to tap on the top of people’s heads, or to walk into one of their dreams but, even then, it’s a toss-up whether they will notice or respond.
If you see things from the viewpoint of the ancestors, it’s difficult for them when the majority of people disregard them, or think of them as fantasy, as imaginary or even hauntingly disturbing. Or people shut off their receptivity by ‘just’ having another drink, or rushing off to spend money in shopping malls and bowling alleys, or arguing with each other over unresolved issues or trivialities. It can be frustrating being an ancestor in modern times, especially if there’s some wisdom to impart during moments of Christmastide reflection. Wisdoms such as…
Sometimes the young are wiser than the old. Sometimes adversity is really helpful. Or no matter how close you get to someone, there can still be light-years between you. Or that many hands make light work. Or that you can have the world’s greatest army but you still don’t win your wars. Or that the people who are regarded as winners are often very alone, even when they’re popular.
So I spent Christmas Day with a friend I met in 2022 who seems like an old friend already – Brian Abbot from Devon (he of the Invisible Opera Company of Tibet). Two aged hippies having a deep dialogue over all that has changed and all that has not changed, in our own lives, in the wider world and in the cosmos. One an author and the other a musician, both of us having started on our spirit-paths by consorting with Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds, in her blotter and microdot format, fiftysomething years ago in another millennium. He cooked a nut roast.
That was our Christmas. The wind blew, the rain came down, the woodstove burned bright with aromatic birchwood, and no animals died to feed us with Christmas dinner. All was well down’ere in West Penwith, at the end of the world – well, the end of the small British part of our world. And the Atlantic rollers crashed against the rocks on the coast with not a single care for human beliefs such as Christmas. As for Jesus, he was in Khan Younis, not Bethlehem, busy ministering to people in need. Good on him – we need a few more people like him around.
The long and winding road (near Falmouth, Cornwall)
I’ve been rather quiet recently. My energy has been under par. Nowadays I’m not good at doing winter. I’m often told that I look well, and part of me indeed is well, though this is more a matter of a grin-and-bear-it attitude than a medical reality. Since getting cancer I’ve found I give off an unintentionally deceptive appearance, looking better than I actually am, or feel. Sagittarius rising with Venus trine to it (the grin bit) and Saturn square it (the bear it bit). I’m not sure what to do about this.
Oh yes, I forgot… a health warning: beware of smatterings of astrology.
Though I’ve been relatively quiet, I’ve been at it, extracting parts of my blog from the last four years that tell my cancer story, turning them into a book for patients with cancer and other serious conditions, and their helpers – at least, for those interested in my approach. It will come out dreckly (sometime) as a free online PDF book, and possibly as an audiobook later on. I’m pleased with the way it’s developing.
In my birth chart I have Jupiter in Pisces – a dreamer perhaps, but for me the challenge has been to make dreams manifest. There’s fantasy and there’s vision, and there are doable and impossible dreams. The difference is a matter of discernment and not always clear, even if, like me, you have a forensic Saturn in Virgo, a dreadfully factual place for it. I’ve had successes and failures in this manifestation business, though a lot of things wouldn’t have happened if I hadn’t tried. Jupiter, in my case, is the handle to a bucket formation of planets – so it’s an energy-focus in my being. A bucket is a pattern where all but one of the planets in a chart are located in half of the zodiac, with a singleton on the other side acting as a handle.
In my chart the bucket tips so that it pours or perhaps spills out – all of my planets except one, Jupiter, are above the horizon (the horizontal line across the chart), in the social and public domain. But the key to that array is Jupiter, down below, in the personal, local-neighbourhood sphere. In my case it allows a certain privileged access to inner wealth – though I had to make a progression of big, sometimes difficult choices to unlock it. The Tibetans gave me the name ‘radiant merit’ and the Bedouin called me ‘always giving’, and these have been a challenge to live up to and live with. Had I oriented my life another way, I might have been a senior civil servant or an ambassador serving Tony Blair’s government. But I didn’t.
Pendower Cove, Land’s End
Life as it stands today is rather peculiar: I’m out there with my writings and podcasts, with a public presence, while in real life I’m very much on my own. That’s Jupiter in Pisces and Saturn in Virgo again. I live in an uplifting, ancient landscape, peppered with geomantic technology from millennia ago, surrounded by high granite cliffs and the wide ocean. Here lies the taproot of my being – the sense of space here nourishes my soul. Jupiter in Pisces needs a spiritual anchorage. Before this, I’ve lived under Glastonbury Tor, in Bethlehem, in the Swedish forests and the mountains of Eryri, Snowdonia.
Yet ‘No man is an island, entire of itself; every man is a piece of the continent, a part of the main‘, wrote John Donne in 1624. For me, solitude is a way of sourcing original experiences and perceptions which then I can bring to the wider world. I’m not one of those authors who can write a book for three hours a day while doing other things – instead I go into a hyperfocused voluntary lockdown for months, totally immersing myself in it.
I’ve even manifested electrosensitivity in my life, which is very isolating. I live in furthest Cornwall to be as far away as possible from the dense cloud of radiation that England emits. I’m close to other emitters instead – humpback and minke whales, dolphins, basking sharks and seals. And buzzards, geese and owls. The construction of our realities, both intentional and unconscious, has so much to do with what we tune into.
Dolphins playing in Nanjizal Bay
The funny thing is that, although West Penwith is relatively isolated, in my psychic work I find it’s easy here to reach around the whole globe. It’s geographically peripheral and psychically quite central, relatively free of etheric noise. I have Neptune in the ninth house (an eclectic spiritualist) and Chiron in Sag in the twelfth (a penchant for behind-the-scenes stuff). As George Harrison, lifting words from Lao Tzu, once sang: “Without going out of my door I can know all things on earth; without looking out of my window I can see the ways of heaven; the farther one travels, the less one knows… Arrive without travelling, see all without looking, do all without doing…” [1] This is certainly true for me now, though I’ve travelled and done plenty of things before, and this makes it easier to accept my current confinement. If cancer had come in my thirties or forties it would have been a very different story.
Currently, transiting Saturn has been sitting on my Jupiter. Normally I’d interpret this as a crisis of faith. Well, my faith is more or less intact but circumstances are having a good go at eroding it, with many disappointments, big and small. Singlehanded, I’m not keeping up with everything that’s involved in staying alive – at times the ‘to do’ list overwhelms me, and I need help with critical things like transport, shopping, laundry, lifting, specific tasks and particularly companionship. And a PA for online assistance and organising things, and a minder for travels. Ideally.
But reality is something else. No one covers my back or keeps their eye on me, and that’s the lesson of my life. Or perhaps I deserve it, or perhaps it’s a gift in disguise. One of the gifts you get when you die is that you see all these facts and nuances from an entirely objective viewpoint, and the end-chapter in life is, if we so choose, a time of revelation and release as insights like this trickle up. Life is, after all, not only about what we tell ourselves is happening.
On the other hand, I’m kinda managing, keeping many things together, as long as it doesn’t get too complex and demanding. My task pile is increasing though, not shrinking. Even so, a strange kind of peace and acceptance has settled on me. Last year I was lonely while this year I’m alone – circumstances haven’t changed though my feelings about them have.
Godrevy Head, East Penwith, Cornwall
Ironically, one issue that’s stretching me a lot is that, although I need help, quite a few people nowadays seek help from me. I even need help explaining to many of them why I can’t help them – this requires careful diplomacy. The world’s needs are rising and people from the past naturally come back hoping I can wave a magic wand once again. Mostly not, in concrete terms, though occasionally I can given them a magic key. But the human contact between us is important – it helps them plug into some sanity, perspective and encouragement, with a feeling that someone is bearing witness and feeling their pain.
It’s heart-wrenching too. I’m talking to Bashar, a young doctor in Gaza, when he can get messages through to me. I haven’t heard from him for over a week now – might have lost him. Some years ago I helped him write articles about life in Gaza, under the auspices of We Are Not Numbers.[2] It’s an NGO that trains young Gazans in writing, photography, video and social media outreach, to help them speak for themselves. One of its founders, Prof Refaat al Areer, has recently been killed in bombing.[3]
Bashar graduated as a doctor in August this year after six years study at the Islamic University in Gaza City and was plunged straight into working at Al Shifa hospital – the big one recently in the news. I asked if he could write something about it but I haven’t heard from him. He wished he could come and work in Britain, where a doctor can have the resources, drugs and equipment they need for their work – well, much more than they have in Gaza. He doesn’t want money or to immigrate here permanently – he wants to get experience and raise his game so that he can return home, where people like him are much needed.
Another friend, Aminha, had a baby a few weeks ago. I’m relieved that she and her child are still alive – well, they were, last time I heard. What a life to be born into, stuck in a devastated concentration camp with little food or security and no escape.[4] Her brother had been a nurse in Gaza – he managed to escape in 2016, got to Europe, was talent-spotted by the Belgian health service and later died of Covid while working in a frontline intensive care unit. Poor chap. Some years ago I asked him what was the most difficult job he had had to do as a nurse in Gaza. He said, “Holding down patients during surgery without anaesthetics“.
One of the reasons I’ve had a strange peoccupation with conflict zones is this. Kahlil Gibran puts it well: “Out of suffering have emerged the strongest souls; the most massive characters are seared with scars“. In conflict zones I’ve met some of the most impressive people I’ve ever met.
Sakyamuni Buddha put it another way: “The path to enlightenment begins with the experience of suffering“. That is, if shit happens, it might be a gift in disguise. It’s not fair to say that to a person in Gaza right now, but there’s truth in it – a truth better confronted in retrospect for the deepening of our understanding, at a time when we’re not actually being bombed.
Gurnard’s Head, West Penwith
I’ve been facing facts recently, regarding my health. I’m doing alright with cancer, though my current treatment, Daratumamab, is slowly losing its efficacy. So in the coming year I might have to change to Lenidalomide, which intuitively I feel nervous about. My anticipation is that I might not get on so well with it as I have with Dara. I’ll lose the visits by the nurses too, since it involves a daily pill rather than a four-weekly injection.
But my real concern is the peripheral side-effects of cancer. I have two critical issues – osteonecrosis of the jaw (my jaw is dying) and a compressed stomach (leading to difficulties digesting and eliminating food). The stomach is Virgo’s place in the body, while the jaw is critical for scrunching up the stuff of life. Experience is food too, so there’s symbolism in this. The stomach is where we assimilate the nutritional experiences that life gives us.
The osteonecrosis gives me anticipations. A specialist at the Royal Cornwall Hospital was concerned about it recently. We like each other, and he can see I’m very much alive, but the disintegration of my jaw, possibly in a year or two, could be a critical issue heralding my end – not a very happy ending either. Either this or the stomach issue are more likely to kill me than the cancer itself.
I’m not one who will struggle and fight to stay alive just for the sake of it. If I can, I’ll stick around until living becomes too difficult, but no longer. I’m okay about passing on, and I’ve had a full life. Over the last four years with cancer I’ve done my best to release regrets, accept facts, forgive and be forgiven, and to stay happy. However, without adequate support and with no one close to me in daily life, I’m concerned about what happens when I start deteriorating. I need someone who’s tuned in, an alternative type with some health knowledge and a good heart, with time available and willingness stand by me to the end – funnily, rather like my former partner, with qualities akin to hers.
She was into David Bowie and I was into John Lennon (having grown up in 1960s Liverpool). Lennon’s recent song, ‘Now and Then’, says it for me exactly.[5] Now and then I really do miss her. Nearly two years have passed and I’m moving on, gradually opening to other options. Not that options are here, but I’m opening up to them.
However, if I get close to someone or move house or join a new situation – a family or group, perhaps – this will be the last time, baby the last time, and I won’t be able to do another big change. If this can’t be the case, then it might be better to stay alone and handle things myself. This involves a promise to myself to pull out of life quickly and go home when the time comes to do so, and no later. I’ve spent my life pushing against the wind, and there’s no point doing it in death.
Life always has its compensations and our prayers are always answered – not necessarily when or how we might want them, but they’re certainly answered. When I was in the depths of cancer four years ago I was concerned about my humanitarian work. I could continue as an author and thinker, and my post-cancer blogs, podcasts and webwork are some of the best output I’ve done, but the humanitarian work died right then – I couldn’t travel and I’d be more of a liability than an asset at the frontline. Or so I thought.
But in the last two years I’ve worked with the Akan priestess Maa Ayensuwaa to disable a violent, Nigerian-led, drug-addled criminal gang, I’ve had involvement with the Tuareg in Mali, and recently I’ve been back with the Palestinians. It all happens from my desk here in Cornwall – online stuff – and in bed, or sometimes up on the bronze age barrows behind our farm – psychic stuff.
Something in me has been strangely calm about getting involved in human wrongs, death and devastation once again, even though at times it has been grief-filled and rather a strain. I’ve been given grace-time and opportunity to do it – a prayer answered. Which goes to show, there’s a gift in everything, even in disability, and even when it seems that all the wrong things possible are happening. But then, to quote a peacemaking Ulster vicar from some time back, ‘Better to fail in something that eventually succeeds than to succeed in something that ultimately fails’.
Treviscoe, West Penwith
When it comes to popping clogs, I think I might be able to fold myself up and pop out voluntarily, if necessary – though I’ll find out only when I get there. It’s a matter of shifting away from the apparent difficulty of letting go of life, toward being reborn into a new world with a sense of relief and homecoming. We don’t stop being ourselves when we die, but the location changes, you wave goodbye to your old, damaged, tired, physical self and body, and you say hello to welcoming souls who await your arrival. You get processed through a decompression, a debriefing and a healing of wounds, a few truth sessions, some re-education and recuperation, and then other options come before you.
So, I’m getting used to the possibility that my time might be shorter than otherwise it might be. My current state isn’t going to last forever. However, the conundrum is that, when you’re kept alive by spirit, anything can happen.
But I do need friends to quit trying to oblige me to stay alive for their own convenience. I’m here now, alive in incarnation, in physical form. If you wish, you may invite me places, get me to do a holy gig or two, join us at the Oak Dragon Camp in summer [6] or visit me here in Cornwall. But please don’t leave it too late. When it’s time to go, I’ll need to go, whatever anyone thinks and whether or not I fit their timetable.
After that, I’m in the hands of two Geminis – Tulki, my son, looking after my remaining affairs, bless him, and a dear soul sister, Rebecca, looking after my funeral. I’m pretty Mercurial (Sun in Virgo and Moon in Gemini) and, as you may have discovered, rather effusive with words – miles and gallons of the effing things – so being sent off by two Geminis somehow fits, and thank you, you two.
My Mum, also with a Moon in Gemini, was a prizewinning shorthand typist in the 1940s-70s and she got arthritic fingers in the end. I’ve managed to bypass that, thankfully. Instead, my fingers are losing their keyboard-accuracy and I have to go over and over everything multiple times until it’s right! We each have served the bane of being a compulsive scribe.
I’m Saturnine – it’s central in the array of my planets – and my cancer, Myeloma, is about bones (Saturn). Without treatment my bones would hollow out, crumble and break. Bones hold us up, enabling us to live in a functional planetary body with a humanoid architecture. They give us a frame to hang our body on, counteracting gravitation and the heaviness of physicality. When my energy is up, I’m more or less upright, looking bright, and when it’s down I’m stooped, dragging myself around like a corpse on double gravity, and I need putting to bed with a cuppa, some music, a hot water bottle and a cuddle – therapy for a saturnine old crock with a limited shelf life.
So it feels a bit like I’m poised at the top of a slalom slope and it could be downhill from here. We shall see – I don’t have a sense of the future right now, the gods like keeping me on tenterhooks and it’s a scary-ish seat-of-the-pants matter. Goes to show, I do get fear, in case anyone wondered. But I’m usually alright on the night – fear is more about anticipation than factual realities. One of the great things about being a senior is that, having got through many scrapes over the previous seven decades, I know that, live or die, I’ll get through the next lot too, somehow. It all lies in attitude, really. Only in certain respects can we genuinely control the circumstances of our lives, but we have much more influence over the way we respond to the circumstances we face. That’s what free will is all about.
Love from me, Happy New Moon and Happy Everythings. Palden
The next blog is half-written, and it’s a ‘Paldywan’s top tips for cancer patients’ blog. It’ll also form the final chapter of the book ‘Bones’.
I woke up this morning with ‘philanthropist‘ going round my head. So I decided to look up how it was defined.
“A person who seeks to promote the welfare of others, especially by the generous donation of money to good causes.” Oxford University Press. Interestingly, they found that the greatest use of the word in Britain was in the 1850s, the peak of the Victorian era and the industrial revolution, declining gradually until it sank a lot during WW1 and afterwards, and it started slightly picking up only since 2005ish.
“A philanthropist is someone who donates substantial resources, often including time and expertise but always including substantial financial resource, to a particular cause, area or social issue.” That’s the Charities Aid Foundation in UK.
“Anyone can be a philanthropist and be more effective at making a difference. Here’s how. A philanthropist is a person who donates time, money, experience, skills or talent to help create a better world. Anyone can be a philanthropist, regardless of status or net worth.” That’s a bit closer to where I stand. It comes from an American organisation called Fidelity Charitable.
Another source defines three types of philanthropy: relief, improvement and social reform. In my work in places like Palestine, I’ve focused mainly on social reform – a longer term perspective that builds conditions leading to improvement. This is trans-generational when it comes to questions of mass trauma-healing – which is the approach taken by the Hope Flowers School that I worked with in Bethlehem. Their motto is, ‘every act of violence begins with an unhealed wound‘ – so the task is to make progress on healing those wounds. The school originally had Muslim, Christian and Jewish children but, in 2001, during the intifada, the Jews withdrew, largely for safety reasons – understandable, though regrettable.
According to the Borgen Project, “Philanthropic people show selfless concern for the welfare of others and venture to alleviate the struggles of others without seeking anything for their own personal benefit. Truly philanthropic acts are done without expectation of compensation or recognition of one’s efforts.” This might be so, but this ‘without expectation’ bit doesn’t cover the expenses incurred, and covering my expenses has always been problematic. When in the Middle East, I still had to pay my rent and bills back home, as well as covering travel, living costs and helping needy people. I still do this with the remote work I do now from my desk at home.
I met this guy in Bethlehem. He’s now 20ish. I wonder what he thinks right now?
In this life I have not been a financial philanthropist. Many people believe that donating money is the only form of philanthropy, but also, out in places where there is need, everyone tends to drive, elbow and oblige me to raise, funnel or fix money. They perceive this as their primary need, and that’s true in the short term and not necessarily true for the longterm background conditions I’m best at working with.
This has tended to smother and detract from what I’m best at doing – human and spiritual input and multilevel intelligence. The thinking needed for fundraising and admin is very different from that of healing and magical-spiritual work, and I cannot do everything. This has been an ongoing dilemma.
It hasn’t helped me support myself either. People tend to think that, since such work is a chosen vocation, I needed no support or already had the funds. The prevailing thinking is that, if you’re doing well financially, this enables you then to act philanthropically – and only then. For many people this point never arrives, so they don’t do it. But it needs to come from a deeper place, from a sense of calling. That’s what was the case for me and, in late life, I’m really glad I did it, even though I’m quite poor now as a result.
Carn Barra, West Penwith, Cornwall.
When in Palestine and Israel, there were two main age-groups of volunteers and activists from abroad, most of them self-financing. One group was around age 25-35 (and 60% female) and one was around sixty (and 60% male). The thirtysomethings were doing it out of principle, setting aside career progress for what they believed in – though for some it was a voluntary internship to help a career in the NGO sector. Some had law, business and accountancy degrees, working in ‘lawfare’ – legal improvement of the rights of Palestinians and helping Palestinian NGOs function.
The sixtysomethings were good-hearted types, often retired from careers in education, social work or healthcare, who had raised and despatched their kids, perhaps they were newly divorced, and they had the resources and long-accumulated wish to at last pursue their calling in a place like Palestine. Both of these age-groups were committed, brave and valuable people, nevertheless driven by slightly different motivations. Many of the older ones contributed to the relief and improvement areas, while many of the younger ones contributed to reform.
There’s an innate philanthropy built into Palestinian society. It’s an attitude. It’s shared by some but not all Israelis – particularly those brought up in kibbutzim or living in settlements. It’s a kind of generosity economy, where everyone is brought up with an ethic of mutual help and contribution. This is social resilience, and when society is under duress it really works. This is something we in Europe need to learn – it’s in our group memory but it has lapsed.
When a young person thinks about their future career, they don’t think of personal ambition as much as the contribution they can make, and the likely slots that will appear in their clan or neighbourhood in future – whether as a dentist, embroiderer, car mechanic or even a professor. If the local midwife is growing older, a younger one will be thinking of replacing her in ten years’ time.
The holy well on Trencrom Hill, guardian hill of West Penwith
Over the decades I’ve banged on a lot about life-purpose, helping and empowering people to identify and pursue it. Here comes a repeat quote, but it’s important. The Council of Nine (who thirty years ago jogged me into working with Israel-Palestine) were asked whether there was one thing that could change and transform the world. They simply said, “If everyone pursues their life purpose“.
This gets bigger. They didn’t say this but, by extension, omitting to pursue our life-purpose, or withholding it, for whatever reason, is a soft version of a current major concern: crimes against humanity. It is the indifferent, inherently self-serving ethic of Western and, increasingly, global culture, that permits situations such as Gaza to happen. Because we don’t stop it.
People expressed surprise and horror at the precipitate actions of the Gazans when they broke out and violated so many Israelis, starting off the current round of trouble. Anyone who actually watches anything more than the urgent splutterings of the headlines knew something like this would come. It continues a long, long story and it didn’t happen out of the blue.
The surprise arises from global indifference, which prefers stuff like this would just go away. To be fair though, there’s also a surfeit of other events, tragedies and concerns competing for attention. Israeli hubris was caught napping. The main surprise here was the strategy and audacity of it. I do not encourage violence and have been a lifelong peace-freak, but are we really to believe that the Palestinians, generally unheard, blocked and disregarded, are supposed to act like polite gentlefolk, shrugging shoulders and nobly accepting their lot without a whimper? How would you like to be a 20 year old in Gaza, with no future? Or his or her parents?
Palestinians. They’re terrorists, as you can see
Today, the Gazans are so hungry, thirsty, desperate and traumatised that it would not surprise me if there were another mass breakout, into Israel or Egypt – of mothers, families, grandparents and youngsters seeking food, water and safety. Later, Europeans will duly complain when another wave of refugees comes to our shores, but our endemic indifference has caused much of this. Refugees arrive in Europe and America to give us a gift, a gift of humanness, empathy and philanthropy. Amazingly, it has even been found scientifically that it makes us happier. Indeed, there’s more to life than comfort and security.
I am not saying ‘admit anyone who claims asylum’, but I am saying we need to be more philanthropic, to understand that changes are happening even to us, and to act longterm to deal with the sources of the problem. In the case of Gaza it concerns the historic and current issues arising for the locals from the arrival and behaviour of the state of Israel, and the wider global issues that allowed this to happen the way it did. In Britain, two key fomenters of this problem are the Foreign Office and the media.
So, life-purpose. Are we here simply to pay our bills, tread our mills, keep investors happy and, at the end, collect our pensions? This is a personal question for every single soul. We need to ask ourselves, ‘Am I rising to my full potential as a human philanthropist? Or a human anything, for that matter?’. The answer is both yes and no, and the yes bit needs acknowledging and the no bit needs some attention. [For an audio talk by me, try this.]
Here’s something interesting that I discovered. I have long known I have healing abilities but in Britain I have chosen not to work as a healer, except as an astrologer (a perceptual healer) and a community activist (a social healer). But when I went to Palestine, witnessing the needs of people there, I suddenly started doing healing work – spiritual healing, mainly, and remote healing. On people’s backs, stomachs, wounds, hearts and spirits. What surprised me was that my abilities were dramatically amplified – people were genuinely and visibly healed, and deeply so. They’d approach me later to say so, and I was much moved, rather shocked by that. It was as if the scale of need pulled out almost miraculous superpowers.
But there’s a difference. In Britain, when I’ve done such work, while people do benefit, they tend to continue with the life-patterns that caused the problem. From a healer’s viewpoint, that’s not very satisfying. But in a crisis zone, where despair, danger and dire need are big drivers, I found people really did take on board whatever I said or did, and they were so grateful, and they helped me back. Also, it was liberating to work without charging.
Sitting on the wind. Godrevy, Cornwall
I’ve never liked charging for healing or transformative work – how do you value the fixing of a major issue or the saving of a life? Twenty years ago, as an astrologer I charged £60-70 for a two-hour session but I needed £250. I did a lot for free or underpriced, because there was a need. I’d have felt happier with a salary, like a doctor, so that charging didn’t enter the equation. The ethics and politics of our time did not allow it – after all, astrologers are charlatans, aren’t we?
If you were a Palestinian in Gaza right now, you’d be enacting your life-purpose – whatever you’re best at. The same is happening for some Israelis. That’s how people survive. When the chips are down, you do what’s needed, regardless. If you can clear rubble, cook, minister to people or mind the kids, that’s what you do. No qualifications or vetting needed – just do it, if necessary till you drop.
Saturn is in Pisces: this concerns philanthropy. Without it, the world would be a much sorrier place. Philanthropy is not an option: it is a necessity, like sewage disposal. Crises such as Gaza – and they’re coming at us quite a lot nowadays, and it won’t slow down – shine a light on our life-purposes, for each and every one of us.
What am I here for, really? What am I doing about it? Our calling is programmed in us from the beginning. We know it. It is inherent, not learned in courses or demanding a qualification – it’s a natural, inbuilt gift and skill. It comes easily. Yes, we are all innately talented. If we let it out.
With love, Palden
A young Bethlehemite friend, now in his twenties
PS. I’m blogging a lot at present and it’s not really planned. It’ll die down again! If something comes up, I start blogging and, typical Aspie, I don’t stop until I’m done. There’s stuff going on in places where parts of my heart lie and, since I can’t get to Is-Pal (or West Africa), this is how I let it out. Together with psychic-spiritual work and handholding certain individuals in the thick of it.
At present, I am ‘holding’ Maa Ayensuwaa (on the right), a native healer in Ghana, who is lying in hospital, lacking painkillers and hoping money will come along to pay for an operation for fibroids – it’s wear and tear from helping people and going without. I can help her only in spirit, though our connection is such that (I hope) it works.
A good friend of mine rang up this morning. She’s Jewish – some Zionists might call her a self-hating Jew – who shares the collective feelings and pathos of Jewry while having grave reservations about the behaviour of the state of Israel. She’s one of those thoughtful Jews who is brave enough to talk to someone like me, who has worked a lot with Arabs.
She comes round for tea and we have great discussions, both of us enjoying the contrasting insider knowledge we each have. Of course, what we face now, in and around Gaza, puts her in a really difficult position. She struggles with it inside herself and she talks with me about that struggle. If you have any empathy and conscience as a human, whatever position you take, it’s really difficult, this stuff.
A few days ago she was with a bunch of eco-activists with whom she’d worked for ages. They were vehemently pro-Palestinian in a way that she found difficult, because they were anti-Israeli. She’s not paranoid about anti-semitism, but it still hurts when people vehemently disapprove of your own people. Her friends had taken sides.
Fifteenish years ago in Palestine, I had a similar problem: I worked with Palestinians but I’m not anti-Israeli – I’m fundamentally pro-people. To me, helping Palestinians doesn’t mean opposing Israel – actually, I felt I was helping Israelis by helping Palestinians, but only a few Israelis would get what I mean by that. Seeing everything in a polarised, partisan way is, dare I say it, inherently hypocritical – it makes Them bad and Us good, as also does the current over-use and misuse of the term ‘terrorist’.
It’s a cover-up, a denial of responsibility, a projection. In my reckoning, it’s part of the problem. The partisan approach taken by the governments of UK, Europe and USA, which they believe to be a show of strength, is undermining the remaining, sagging respect that the Global South – the world’s majority – has for us, and this will lead to difficulties further down the line. We need to stop politicking and act like mature nations.
Citizen peacemakers from both sides, meeting at the All Nations Cafe. This photo was 12 years ago, but it’s still going, led by a brave former Israeli soldier
When working in Palestine I had some difficulty with zealous Palestine activists from abroad who commonly adopted a partisan position: within themselves they had declared war on Israel, even if expressing it only in the form of olive-picking and visiting frontline towns like Tulkarm, Hebron, Jenin or Nablus to witness the damage and the pain. I respect such people for their humane feelings, empathy and commitment but also I felt they needed to do more homework, to go a bit further in their understanding and feelings.
They made life more difficult for people like me – amongst other things driving Israelis against humanitarians. Many activists didn’t really like me, and my book Pictures of Palestine hasn’t been popular with many of them. In my teens in Liverpool I was wedged between Protestants and Catholics, and Mods and Rockers – I started my peacemaker education early! So this issue isn’t new.
The Matrix of Control. There are hundreds of these things around the West Bank
If we take sides, we start projecting a subjective and emotive image on the Other, upon which subsequent actions and atrocities are then justified. It makes Us right and Them wrong, so that We claim legitimacy in questionably punishing Them for their crimes. In and around Israel-Palestine, as soon as conflict breaks out, most people lock into this charged mentality, setting all other considerations aside.
It’s a form of psycho-emotional slavery, and the puppet-master controlling the strings is the Lord of Division. It’s an endemic mass-psychology that needs to polarise, dehumanise and denigrate the other side so that we can overcome the guilt and shame of performing wrongs in the furtherance of our own beliefs – even when those beliefs do not support committing such wrongs.
This mentality leads to consequences. As I write, Israeli forces are poised to start a ground invasion of Gaza. From the Israeli viewpoint, I can see why they are taking this approach: they need to eliminate Hamas, and they’re driven by a ‘never again’ feeling – never again do they want to be threatened and harmed in this way. Fair enough. Except there’s a problem. It’s unlikely to work.
Israelis may kill as many people as they like but they won’t be rid of the problem, because those who are left behind will be hurt. The pain passes down the generations. The cycle of uprisings has repeated itself roughly every twenty years since the 1930s, as each generation has grown up and sought to change things.
The damage done to people and to land is tragic – a ground invasion of Gaza will cost both sides very high. Innocent Palestinians will be mown down, and committed freedom-fighters will sacrifice their lives. Israeli troops will die, one by one, hit by snipers, booby-traps and innovative Gazan devices. Jewish and Palestinian mothers will rue the loss of their sons and daughters.
Israelis will not and cannot eliminate Hamas, even if, improbably, they eliminate all of its fighters and the main characters who head it up. They have not managed to do this before, and they are unlikely to achieve it now. All they can achieve is a costly delay until the next flare-up happens. The reason is this: every time Israel fires a bullet, it creates several new fighters taking up a gun – frustrated young men who seek a future and cannot have it.
The Matrix of Control: a flying checkpoint (upper left), imposed randomly and causing long queues on the roads.
Instead of getting depressed and committing suicide quietly to themselves, they join one of the militias, with the idea that their sacrifice might benefit their people. This isn’t so strange: my own father did this in WW2, volunteering his life for King and Country (except he survived, minus a leg).
Hamas was founded in the first intifada of the 1980s. Ironically, Israel secretly funded its founding, to counteract the Yasser Arafat’s PLO and divide Palestinians against each other. Well, that backfired. Hamas speaks for the embattled feelings of Palestinians and, if there were an election instead of a war, Hamas would most likely win. They won in 2006, in a free and fair election, undermined and annulled by Israel and the West – and they would win now.
To many Palestinians, Hamas represents the best of a very bad set of options – not least because it is relatively free of corruption, it has principles, and Hamas is resolute and cannot be bribed or arm-twisted into submission.
There’s a lot of maleness being displayed on both sides – a resolute, despairing, ultimately self-destructive maleness. But behind this lies a deep feminine-rooted emotion too – the urge to protect women and children from the monstrous ogres on the other side.
An old friend, Ibrahim Abu el-Hawa, peacemaker extraordinaire – some of you might know him
Here I wish to introduce a constructive thought and prayer, or two.
The problem with males is that, when we get worked up, we tend not to stop until we’ve achieved our objectives. It’s sexual: a man seeks a climax, through which all can be resolved and he can forget all his troubles. Except, when this orgiastic urge is driven by short-sighted urges such as control or revenge, it gets really destructive. In war and competition, masculinity doesn’t think much about the damage it might create while seeking that climax, and while we usually focus on winners, in competition most people lose.
There’s a secret here about males, to do with brinkmanship and danger. When it comes to the crunch, sometimes men go more crazy, and sometimes, when genuinely threatened, we start calculating our situation and seeing sense. Unless there is a miraculous and unusual philosophical change of heart, it needs to go up to the brink for us to get there.
Speaking astrologically, this is about the planet Mars. The lowest aspect of Mars fights to destroy – as with the Stalingrad-like scenes we’ve seen in recent decades. The default aspect of Mars fights to win – even though both sides ultimately lose, since victory is never as sweet as expected. The highest aspect of Mars is about coming to the crunch and realising there is no virtue in fighting and no enemy, because we’re all ultimately on the same side. The skillful playing of a game is more important than the winning of it. We suddenly realise we are all our own enemies, beating ourselves up.
So here’s a prayer and something to visualise. As I write we stand at a choice-point, before an expected ground invasion of Gaza. The urge to go to the brink is there, and no one will be dissuaded. This is a point of vulnerability and choice. Consequences will follow, whichever choice is made.
So visualise this crunch point as a potential breakthrough point and hold that thought, that feeling. Don’t be overcome with depression and helplessness, or get stuck on what you think ought to happen. These are of no use right now. If you were in a war zone, you’d get shot.
In war, one must take advantage of whatever situation that arises, as it arises. So apply your prayers to the situation as it stands, to help the universe twist events in a direction that somehow changes flow of the tide.
The Dome of the Rock and the Old City of Jerusalem, with Israeli West Jerusalem behind
We’re at a brief point of realisation that there actually are options. Fighting it out is unlikely to achieve the objectives either side has, and the costs will probably outweigh the benefits. The pain each side experiences will not be soothed.
Here’s another thought. Even if the warring parties do fight it out – and the above prayer will thus be seen to have failed – it’s a matter of stoking up positive energy for the longterm, to build up the potential for the pattern to change. Store it up in humanity’s collective psyche, so that this option is more available next time round, even if it doesn’t work this time round.
Building up the energy-potential for de-confliction is best done by making use of actual circumstances where these issues are acutely at stake. Brinkmanship-points like today’s are junctures where the collective psyche of humanity is at its most vulnerable. It’s under pressure and surprisingly open to making a change.
The seemingly irrevocable rush to conflict sets in motion forces and consequences that seemingly cannot be stopped, and this is the pattern that needs to change. We need a new, transitional pattern where, when the risk of conflict comes close, everyone gets it that there is or must somehow be another way. It’s all to do with agreeing to disagree, and doing something to reduce the intensity of disagreement.
I say transitional because, whatever dreamers might dream, we aren’t suddenly going to have world peace tomorrow. We have to deconstruct the patterns that make for conflict, generation by generation, building new replacement habits. We can do this over the coming decades by facing high-risk situations where our true will gets tested and we are forced to get clear – if necessary, under duress.
In Israel and Palestine, repeated conflicts have not achieved either side’s objectives. This one won’t either. If nothing changes, the next conflict comes in about four years’ time. So let’s get real here. There’s another way. It does require guts to pursue it – the guts to change the pattern and step back from disaster.
Al Aqsa Mosque in Jerusalem – Islam’s third-holiest place
Here’s the awkward bit: though both sides are responsible for their actions, in my estimation, Israel holds around 70% of the power, with greater freedom of action than the Palestinians. Saying this doesn’t make me anti-Israeli. Palestinians hold 30%, and Hamas have recently shown how they also have power to shift the agenda. But 70-30ish is the way the odds are stacked. This makes it more difficult to flip the pattern because ceasefires come when there’s some kind of equalisation of force and influence.
Firing munitions, however impressive, is no longer manly. We need to protect women, children, and also our rights, needs and fortunes, by thinking further and bigger and wider. It’s an emotional choice, made with extra power when we stand on the brink of disaster.
What’s important here is that, whatever happens, humanity learns. Even if the worst happens, this needs to be the last time. Something has to shift – the world is fed up with this, and we have other concerns.
This means that lessons need learning now, today, in these circumstances – emotionally, in the heart, womb and gut. Lives have been lost and are being lost, and the only way to redeem those deaths and make them more meaningful is to learn from them and change things. Only then do they serve a positive purpose in the long run. If people’s sacrifices on both sides are sufficient to build up a head of energy-potential for change, then may this be so. May that change come about.
Changing history takes time. Yet it happens in intense situations like this.
We Brits straddle a strange hypocrisy. In Ukraine our government supports the people (Ukrainians) against the Megamachine (Russia, as we currently perceive it). In Israel it supports the Megamachine, the Israeli government, against the people, the Palestinians (as many of us see it).
Though it’s not as simple as that, since there are real people on both sides of both conflicts. And while the British support for Ukrainians is pretty solid, our support for Israelis and Palestinians is equivocal, mixed and changeable – when people bother to pay attention. For most Brits, sympathies currently extend to people on both sides, with only a degree of rigid partisanship on either side of the spectrum.
Such partisanship is largely because of personal connections. Or it depends on which media people follow. Older people tend to sympathise with Israel (their reference point goes back to WW2 and the 1967 Six Day War), while younger people tend toward sympathising with Palestinians (their reference point goes back to the intifadas and repeated Gaza bombings).
My prayer is that the vengeful aspect of the Israeli psyche does not exceed itself. Israelis need to understand how to create peace and security around them without feeling a need for an iron wall mentality – those days are going, and painfully slowly. Actually, we all need to learn that lesson, but in Israel the iron wall mentality is exemplified.
Many Israeli soldiers are quite okay people – and they like rock festivals too
The trouble is that, in a country surrounded with walls, fences and missile defences, supposedly to keep enemies and threats out, it imprisons Israelis themselves, inside their own bubble. Pretty much the only way out of the country is through Ben Gurion airport near Tel Aviv. It’s built on land owned up to 1948 by the Issa family, a refugee family who now run the Hope Flowers School in Bethlehem.
Regarding that, here’s a report from Ibrahim Issa, the school director, where I lived and worked in Bethlehem. Though in the West Bank, it is only about 45 miles from Gaza – three minutes in a warplane. In Bethlehem they can probably hear and even smell what’s going on over in Gaza.
Here’s Ibrahim (he’s around 40 in age now)…
AROUND THE SCHOOL It is extremely sad to see this escalation of violence and associated human suffering on both sides. We are safe until now, despite escalation in the area. Two days ago we had to evacuate the school. Hope Flowers School is located in Area C, which is Palestinian land under Israeli control – in the southwest part of Bethlehem. The school is located about 150 meters away from [the edges of] an Israeli settlement (Efrat).
One of the Palestinian rockets fired from Gaza fell about 50 meters from the school building and injured two boys from the neighborhood. One of them is already declared dead. Yesterday, Israeli settlers have been attacking Palestinians near the school. This situation is extremely scary for children at Hope Flowers, for teachers and certainly for families.
IN OUR FAMILY Fourteen members of my extended family have been killed today in Gaza. The grandparents, sons, daughters and grandsons are all killed in an airstrike.
ON THE WESTBANK Most schools have turned to online education. Hope Flowers School is doing that also for children who cannot reach the building anymore. Bethlehem is a totally closed-off area. We do not have fuel coming in; we do not have diesel to operate the school buses. I think it is a matter of days before everything stops totally, unless Israelis release the siege on Palestinian areas here in the West Bank. Food is also running out in the supermarkets. No food supplies are coming. It may be just a few days before people start to feel the shortage.
The view from my apartment at the school – over the valley you can see the security wall, an observation tower and, to the right, an ‘outpost’ that has now become a settlement
Palestinians are regrettably accustomed to adversity and crisis – that’s why a squad of Palestinians is advising the Ukraine government on social resilience and resistance. Over the decades many Palestinians went to university in Ukraine and Russia, so they know the deal there – about 6,000 Palestinians were in Ukraine at the outbreak of war in 2021.
MY OWN INNER CONNECTION
My Palestinian journey has been one where I have had to examine my biases and the contradictions in my viewpoints. They are very mixed.
My maternal grandfather was in Allenby’s invading force in WW1 in Iraq and Palestine, and my father fought in Egypt in WW2. I have Roma ancestry, and the Roma experienced holocaust tragedy as much as the Jews. I also have German (and Welsh) ancestry, and when my father was younger, ‘the only good German was a dead German’, according to the mad logic of war-thinking at that time. It’s not that long ago that towns and cities this country were blitzed like Gaza – my mother hid under the table nightly in Walthamstow, East London. So it’s in my genes and those of many of us.
Amidst the damage of urban war, ordinary life goes on. This is Hebron.
Here’s comes a seriously woo-woo bit, which some readers might not like. It’s something you can take either literally or metaphorically since, whether or not it’s true, I carry similar issues to those of a similar character to me, back in history. It is a past-life thing, going back to the time when I was working for the Council of Nine in 1991-93. At one stage, I asked them why they called me ‘Paladin Saladin’ – I had thought it was a kind of jocular rhyming name. They did after all crack jokes! They simply said, “You were he“.
This was like a bolt of lightning. As a historian I immediately knew what they were throwing at me. For some years afterwards I had a resistance to the idea. I recounted this to a close friend, Jean Gardner, a Glaswegian aged hippy, now in heaven, who had been a friend of R D Laing in the Sixties. She looked at me intently, got up, went to the bookshelf, leafed through a history book and gave it to me, pointing at a picture.
“Palden, you sit exactly like this. And look at the simple diet he had – exactly like yours, minus the tofu… and how he could be tough and also show mercy… and the way he was always giving away the money he had to people in need, and he was personally perpetually broke, even though he was the Sultan of Egypt and Syria.” When Jean spoke like this, her words had that deep, no-bullshit Glaswegian firmness. Woo. I had to acknowledge this and take it on.
The Nine also said I had been the slave to Abraham’s pagan father, Terach, back in Ur, around 1900 BCE. Abraham had a big argument with his father and smashed all his idols, at the time when he was adopting the idea of a One God – and presumably I was in on that moment. Servants are often privy to all sorts of stuff.
Then, they said I was a Nubian slave to Moses – yes, I waited for him at the bottom of the mountain. They finished by saying, “You have been involved with the Jews three times, always as a foreigner, and this is your fourth”. In this they were implying, ‘And what are you going to do now?‘. Five years later I was getting involved with Israel and Palestine, starting by being a co-founder of Jerusalem Peacemakers.
On my first visit to Jerusalem in 1991 I cried my eyes out in the back of a taxi driving along under the medieval city walls. I’d been here before, and I was all stirred up. We had walked out of the Church of the Holy Sepulchre, entranced by the strong atmosphere there, straight into a soldier situation – and that’s what’s really weird and intense in Jerusalem. The best and the worst in human experience can come at you in quick succession. Actually, Glastonbury is a bit like that, minus the guns. Both holy places are somehow deeply connected as places where light meets dark. You have to get used to the extreme ups and downs. Glastonbury trained me for Jerusalem.
The Old City of Jerusalem
THE NINE’S THOUGHTS ON ISRAEL
Here’s a simple quote from the Nine [1]: “Do you have the understanding that Abraham was the father of two nations?” Biblical and Quranic tradition have it that the Arabs were descended from Ishmael and the Jews from Isaac, both sons of Ibrahim/Abraham. “Then you also understand that Allah is what those of Israel call Yehovah.“
The Nine didn’t regard the Jews as ‘the Chosen People’. They saw them as the People of a (big) Choice.
“They [as souls] came from a planet of strength. They came from [another world called] Hoova. They had strength within their character, and also the planet from which they came was a warlike planet – and in their seeding here [on Earth], they were asked to be at peace. But they have factors of doubt and questioning, which cause us difficulty. They have doubt, suspicion and deception – because of the place they come from [Hoova]. Part of the reason for their existence on this planet was to overcome that factor.
“It began when they left Ur [heading to Palestine]. Before that, they listened. But the descendants of Abraham lost their internal knowledge: they only kept the knowledge of who they were. In their need for survival, they did not accept total obedience [to the Covenant]. They were always making deals. Where one group would be in awe of Creation, the Hoovids would look at Creation as something to be utilised.
“The nation is fierce with pride, and from this grew the desire to help their own nation only – in the times before the man Jesus. So in effect our plan [the Covenant] was turned around. The people of Israel will eventually accept their responsibility. And yet in effect this is their salvation, because it shows the nations of planet Earth that they are a nation that will not be conquered. Also, even though they made an error, every nation has made an error.
“There were only two commandments for the nation of Hoova. Those two are: Thou shalt not worship false gods; Do unto others as you want others to do unto you. Those are the only two commandments given to the nation of Hoova.
“The nation of Israel has forgotten its heritage, its choosing and its Covenant. Abraham was told to go and spread his seed through all the planet Earth. Abraham was told to populate and to go forth, and yet this Covenant was not kept. The Hebrews did not go forth and mingle. If this nation had gone forth and mingled with the peoples of the world, then this the planet Earth would not be in such a serious state as it is at this time.”
There are peace-freaks in Israel too – many have done military service and know what they’re talking about when it comes to peace-building
In one of the interviews I had with the Nine, I asked this:
“The people of the north of Israel, the lost tribes, were taken away and dispersed by invaders. Were these people eliminated, or did they mix with the peoples of other lands?”
“They are all over the world and, as examples, some are in Afghanistan. There are some in Ethiopia, in the Phoenicians [Lebanese and Tunisians], in the people of the musical language written of by Caesar [the Celts], and in the Orientals [such as Kashmiris and Uighurs].”
I then asked, “You have said that the Hoovids came in order to mix with the people of planet Earth.”
“That is a truism, but they that stayed together did so because the others had been dispersed. If I would have a word of my own to say, would you like to hear? I will ask the Council if I may say it. They said I may say, but you may not be pleased with it. It is this. We would have one warning to people who are working with higher consciousness, to be very cautious about your attitudes toward the Hoovids: for it may very well be that you are a Hoovid also, yes. What we are attempting to say is that the majority of people that are involved in spiritual elevation contain the genes of Hoovids – so look upon what I say. How do you then place yourself in that?
“Look at all the world, in every nation, and see which negative characteristics developed that made that nation feel different to others. In your nation [Britain] you believed you were superior to other nations, and that your rightness was the rightness of rightness. And as you have now evolved beyond that, you give to others that same understanding [of seeing beyond tribal perspectives]. When people come to gather as many, and the clapping goes all around the world [across borders], all will be free of the bondage of their bringing forth [of their tribes, nationalities and cultures].
“The people of the nations of Ishmael [Arabs] are brothers and sisters with the nation of Israel. It is important that brothers not fight brothers, but in your world it seems to be your system. It is important for this message to be given to the nation of Israel, for they need to have the understanding that the powers of their mind create trouble when mixed with their fears. Your mind brings to you not what you want – it brings to you what you fear.
“The nation of Israel must look closely at what they fear. They want peace, but may we ask why they do not have peace? For what are their fears? It is what is in the hearts of the men and women of the nation of Israel that is most important. When the nation of Israel begins to fear less, then also it will begin to change.”
It’s really boring, spening a long shift inside one of those spy towers
HISTORY AND THE FUTURE: NOT A STRAIGHT LINE
Arabs have a different history to Jews. Arabs are not one people – they are mixed in origin, encompassing thousands of years, and some Palestinians are of Jewish origin. Multi-cultural and multi-ethnic by nature, they are united by speaking Arabic and sharing certian core beliefs. But after the diasporas, the Jews, having been decimated, dispersed and, in medieval-to-modern Europe, persecuted, have different shadows to contend with to Arabs. It even goes into depth-psychology: Arabs suffer shame while Jews suffer guilt. As do Europeans. And all of us suffer fear – big doses of it.
The Middle East has always been a crossing-point of the Old World, between Africa, Asia and Europe. Many peoples of the Old World have ranged across it over the millennia (even the Roma, coming from India). Nations with borders do not suit the region – it has usually come under large empires. It was the Europeans – the Brits and French – who sectioned up the Middle East around 1920, setting in motion much of the trouble that is happening today.
To solve the endemic insecurity and power problems of Israel, Egypt, Lebanon, Syria and Iraq, the whole region needs reuniting as a community of peoples without borders. This process is slowly, painfully starting, as the oil industry and its over-powered oligarchies begin to decline. A sign of this was the pan-Arabic revolutions around 2011 – suppressed, essentially, by oil money and the vested interests invested in it. The ‘Arab Street’ made its voice heard – sparked by a young vegetable-seller in Tunisia. The voice of The Street will return.
Middle Eastern administrative tradition involves ‘Millets’, a multicultural interlocking of peoples, each with their own customs and laws, who all lived in neighbouring communities across the same wide territory – in city quarters, villages and local areas. So the Jews, the Druze, Maronites, Copts, Kurds, Armenians, Alawites, Turkmen, Yazidis, the Shi’a and the Sunnis all rubbed shoulders, living within their own communities under their own laws. To some extent, whenever a new invader arrived, these millets survived and, as long as everyone paid their taxes, the imperialists left things that way. Until the British and French came along.
We British carry much historic responsibility for what’s happening in Palestine and Israel today.[2] I am rather disappointed that His Majesty’s Government has opted to side with Netanyahu’s Israeli government rather than taking a more humane, humanitarian approach, pressurising not only for a cease-fire but for a longterm resolution, backed with some muscle and sticking power.
The issue is the future, not the past. The core issue is the future of planet Earth and the global challenges before us. A crux issue amongst these is an end to war all over the world. That’s the only likely way the Israeli wars will end. War is no longer an appropriate way to settle our many differences. It’s swords to ploughshares time. Otherwise, there’s trouble. Speaking as an astrologer, probably that trouble comes in the 2030s.
If I’ve pressed anyone’s buttons by writing this stuff, please forgive me. I don’t insist on your believing either me or the Nine. I submit it for your consideration. It might give a few helpful perspectives.
I’m deliberately making few statements at this time, even though people ask me what I think. There’s no point.
To re-quote Bertrand Russell: ‘War is not about who is right, it is about who is left‘. The coin is spinning in the air. It has already been flipped.
Corresponding with an old friend in Tel Aviv, who is Jewish, of Romanian origin, she told me this morning that she and her friends are standing together with Arabs in Jaffa (an ancient Arab town next door to Tel Aviv), and, for better or worse, I replied like this…
The pics are from Bethlehem in the West Bank, 2011
Stand together, sister. This is about humans and the Megamachine – Pluto in Aquarius, astrologically. I think it might eventually be a turning point.
I hope everyone on both sides thinks twice before acting. And I hope the Gazans treat their prisoners according to true sharia – in which case they will be as well cared for as possible, under the circumstances.
Indeed, God is great, though he makes his own decisions, and he doesn’t necessarily think what we humans want to think he thinks, and all of us are equally his little children.
I have a young friend in Gaza, Basma, who’s popping a baby in the next few days. Life on Earth becomes incredibly bizarre sometimes.
I have been doing some psychic work on the other side, working with people who have died, and here’s an interesting observation: the ‘angelic operation’ to deal with the influx of hurt, deceased souls is one operation, and the deceased are all being treated together.
And when you listen to the news propaganda, remember that there are plenty of good humans here in Britain and around the world who watch this, and who care, and who form their own conclusions.
This lady’s eyes have seen things humans shouldn’t witness
If I were fitter and had the funds, I wouldn’t go to Is-Pal right now. I would wait, because it’s the abiding damage, psycho-emotional and concrete, that matters. It’s what happens next, with those who are left, that matters.
Those who pass away, they will be cared for, and they will come to peace in their hearts. It’s those who remain who have an uphill climb ahead of them.
This outbreak of war is caused by the damage that has already been done. Every act of violence begins with an unhealed wound – this is the motto of the school where I used to work in Beit Lahem (Bethlehem).
Beware a rush to judge, and be aware of your tendency to take sides. Take both sides, and see each side’s viewpoint(s) – each ‘side’ has a range of viewpoints, actually. Because, strangely, each side is right. From its own adopted viewpoint. And each side is wrong.
Yet there is not right or wrong in this game: there are simply outcomes. And what exactly are the chosen outcomes?
Remember that, when war breaks out, there is a polisation of anger-driven awareness and attitudes into simplistic, black-and-white terms (‘terrorists’, ‘genocide’, etc) and this does no good at all.
Are you a victim of this mentality? This is the psychosis that drives war, and this kind of psychosis needs to end if we are to get through the 21st Century in one piece.
This is about humans against the Megamachine. It’s not really about humans against humans – that’s the psychosis.
I’ll come up with further observations in due course. But for now, silence works best. Bear witness. This is Planet Earth. This is humanity in action. Across the universe, we are frightening, dangerous beings.
True holy war, jihad, concerns the struggle and conflict within ourselves to find the bottom-line truth of our lives. To come to peace within ourselves. By doing this we come closer to what many humans call ‘God’. What arises from this is a deep urge to do good in the world, to make the world a place of justice, peace, safety and basic happiness. That’s what holy war is, and it needs no weapons.
Finally I’ve written an autobiography. It’s online and shortish, the equivalent of ten pages. I was reluctant to write an autobiography, partially because I feel it’s not greatly important and partially because my memory of past events is foggy. In it I explain why this is so. Lots of people have said I ought to write one. I dragged my feet. Standing on stages in front of people comes naturally to me, but I’m also a quietish, Saturnine Virgo who’s happy beavering away behind the scenes and not making a big deal about it.
Yet writing it has been therapeutic. I did it in two rounds. In the first, a year or so ago, I wrote down all I could remember. Letting time pass and recently reading it again, I remembered more events, details and issues. Though really, it’s not life’s events that matter: it’s what goes on inside, prompted partially by those events and partially by stuff coming up from within.
There are general, lifelong issues and patterns too, which are difficult to weave into a short autobiography without making it lengthy. Even so, while working on it I’ve been reminded of something that has been important throughout my life. I’m not sure what to call it. It’s all to do with working with contradiction and paradox. In a way I’m a radical extremist in my spiritual-political views and, to some people, I’m right off the map, not even a decently normal left-winger, conspiracy buff, new age glitteratum or a proper anything. But in another way I have always been measured, considered, anchored in lived experience and seeking balance in my thinking.
My politics – particularly in international relations – comes from my heart. Being with Tibetan Lamas in the 1970s clarified this. They showed me how everyone suffers, rich or poor, privileged or deprived, and that we need to practice compassion and loving kindness toward each and every person and living being. The secret here is to put ourselves in others’ shoes, to see what life looks like from where they stand. You don’t have to agree, just to bear witness and comprehend their situation. I firmly disagree over a lot of things, though I’m not into pointing fingers or demonising people. Such a non-polarised approach isn’t complacency but a way of seeing life that can unlock doors to effective activism or concrete action.
Revolution, to me, involves building the future while letting the past dwindle of its own accord and in its own time, perhaps with an occasional strategic shove. I’ve always been focused not so much with rousing people to rise up as with looking beyond the next perceived horizon and laying the ground for what happens afterwards.
Of course, everyone needs to do whatever they’re moved to do, and to do the best they can with it, preferably without harming others. In the end we all learn from what life has taught us. It’s all part of a bigger, wider movie with a cast encompassing the whole of humanity. If people die in war or by starvation, it is indeed tragic and wrong – one young friend in Gaza has just been killed – yet it is also a sad part of humanity’s learning process, its aversion therapy. It happens because we humans have not remembered the main agenda and what the endgame is.
It’s both a personal and a collective process and, today, the pendulum is swinging toward collective priorities. Our attention is being drawn to the collective dynamics involved in facing the future, which are incrementally overriding the personal preferences and envisionings we all variously might have. In the Global North there’s a lot of braying about personal rights and sovereignty, but much of this is the sad complaining of affluent Westerners, scared of losing the power, advantages and comforts we have had. The future no longer lies with us whiteskins, though we do have a place in it. Around 15% of the world’s population, having banged on about democracy and human rights for decades, to our surprise we’re faced with being but a minority, with equal, not superior, rights to everyone else.
Porthmoina Cove, West Penwith
For better or worse, I’m seriously moderate. I regard Bilderbergers as humans. They do things that are beneficial and things that aren’t. They’re like you and me, really – thoroughly imperfect beings. Yes, they have a certain power to swing things their way, though not as much as some of their critics believe. We need to help them change their thinking, their hearts and their behaviour, since no system of social-political organisation will work well without people’s hearts being in the right place.
If we see those at the top of society as Them, by implication making Us into their underdogs, we tend to reinforce the masters-and-slaves mentality. Even so, we apparent slaves far outnumber them, and we aren’t always stupid sheeple who obey our masters, so ‘the Cabal’ doesn’t control everything. We are co-responsible.
It’s all to do with how we choose to see things. Personally, I see a transformation of the current system to be inevitable and unavoidable. It’s taking longer than many of us first thought, but it is happening. It’s up to us to do what we can to nurture and channel that inevitability, in order not to prolong the agony, since what’s really at stake is the amount, the depth and intensity of suffering and damage that people and the world must go through before we reach a breakthrough point.
Seen in this light, the latest outbreak of violence between Israelis and Palestinians, or between rival factions in Sudan, is a tragic saga of the thrashing of the tail of a slowly dying dragon. In WW2 we had an example of dying dragons: the greatest destruction in the war took place after 1942, when its course had already pretty much been decided at Stalingrad, Alamein and Midway – yet it took a lot of further destruction to confirm that inevitability. Mainly because of masculine bull-headedness. But the matter was eventually harrowingly resolved amongst the ruins of Berlin and Hiroshima.
Carn Kenidjack, West Penwith
In the last thirty years, on top of other projects and activities, I’ve worked with meditation and psychic work. Many political types and rationalists think this is woo-woo, a joke, or peripheral or impractical, and they may hold that view if they wish. The way I see things, a tide is turning, nothing is permanent and we’re working with the historic trends of centuries and millennia. We’re working with the underlying thoughts, feelings and beliefs of people, and that’s what shapes the future.
Those of us who elevate our individual freedoms as benchmarks upon which everything else should be judged are having to swim against a growing tide moving the other way. Individualised self-interest, though indeed relevant and part of life’s equation, is not actually in everyone’s best interest – and the endangered state of our world demonstrates that. Our world problem derives from self-interest. We’re at a stage in history where the survival and benefit of humanity and of the natural environment as a whole have become the top priority. Global circumstances push things this way, and the big question is how fast and fully we respond and adapt. The future is nowadays having a greater causative influence on the present than the past has. We’re being sucked toward the future.
So I don’t rail against the banksters, the billionaires and the secretive manipulators, though I do twiddle their knobs while they aren’t looking, when I can. I do my bit. In my innerwork I sometimes penetrate the backrooms of Davos, or tweak the energy-fields around certain cloud computers, or drop thoughts into prominent people from afar. This probably sounds like fantasy or even megalomania, and there’s truth in that observation too, but feeding and seeding the collective psyche with such perspectives is the beginning of change. All man-made change begins in the psyches of people.
I tend not to see things in black-and-white, good/bad, right/wrong terms – that, to me, is a prejudicial, blinkered comfort-zone allowing us to avoid seeing clearly. When working in Palestine I was not really like many of the other activists. I believed in staying in Palestine for long periods and participating personally in people’s lives, rather than visiting in an activist group for an exhausting and short week picking olives, doing conflict tours and leaning on the copious hospitality of Palestinians.
I wasn’t anti-Israeli either, even though I found some Israelis difficult to relate to, especially if politics came up. Also I don’t agree with the agendas of the state of Israel. But I don’t agree either with the minority of Palestinians who wish, at least in heated moments, to eliminate Israel or drive the Israelis out. To me, it’s not about Palestinians and Israelis – it’s about people, and I worked with those who sought my kind of input.
So when I went through Israeli checkpoints, I regarded the soldiers scrutinising me as real humans, and my behaviour and body-language reflected that – and I got through, often by simply brightening up their day and being a nice guy. I wasn’t there to do battle with the poor grunts on whose shoulders it fell to protect a screwed-up system.
It is easy, popular and sexy to bang on about the badguys at the top of the pile and to dish out neatly packaged certainties about the solution to the problems we face. It gets the hits, royalties and votes, but those who do it then become part of the psychosis of the divisive system that they oppose. Yes, it’s easy to regard Them as the reptilians, the child-molesters, the evil ones, the exploiters, and this neatly places Us in a position of being the pure, the innocent and deserving – and anyone who disagrees with this is clearly on the side of The Cabal.
Near Carn Boel, West Penwith
For me it all started at the London School of Economics in 1969, when I was a student. A situation was brewing where quite a few students were getting confrontative, hurt by the treatment the police and authorities were meting out to us. But I did not believe in confrontation or violence – this would not get the people of Britain on our side. Even if we, the goodguys, won, violence wouldn’t simply subside since it would already be baked into the character of the revolution itself, leading to new atrocities and the subsequent rise of Napoleons and Stalins. So I advocated working toward creating a new future rather than fighting the agents and symbols of the past – a fight we would not win, given the circumstances we were in. I and people like me lost that argument, and eventually the revolution sadly exhausted itself, mainly by tilting at windmills.
I’ve always held a gap-straddling line. Only as I grew older did I come to understand why. I came to see the situation on Earth as part of a larger, deeper, wider scenario. Here comes the button-pressing extremist in me: I fundamentally believe we are not alone and isolated here on Earth – though we are to an extent quarantined. Many people who are into ETs focus on galactic locals such as Pleiadians, Arcturians or Zetas, but it gets bigger, wider and deeper than that. [Here’s an audio talk of mine about this: Life on Earth, Life off Earth.] This has big implications for us on Earth. Bizarrely, the only public figure of recent times to mention this was Ronald Reagan, who once said, “I occasionally think how quickly our differences worldwide would vanish if we were facing an alien threat from outside this world“.
Beings from other worlds are mostly not ‘aliens’, and our origins as human-type souls lie amongst them. But we earthlings do like to see things in polarised terms, and we need to understand that we also are rather daunting to ETs since we’re fitful, unpredictable, inconsistent and we even have divided selves.
It’s a matter of how we choose to see things, and how much fear we weave into it. If you want to see lizard beings and regard them as dangerous, that’s what you’ll tend to see. The same goes for our relationships with all ‘others’, including foreigners, criminals or simply people who share our planet while living in different worlds. It applies also to creepy-crawlies and sharks, or cancer cells, Covid viruses, refugees or lightning strikes.
It’s time to step beyond the judgemental constraints of good and bad, right and wrong. There’s more to life than this. We need also to look carefully at the notion of ‘evil’, which is so easily bandied around – again, to make ourselves look like goodguys. I’ve been accused of being a criminal, traitor, toxic male, dictator and asshole myself, but that doesn’t make me so unless I buy into it. However, it’s still my duty as a human to work on those aspects of myself where I do fuck up.
The way I see things, evil doesn’t exist in itself – it is simply poisoned, blocked, polluted, diverted life and naturalness. The Tibetan story of Padmasambhava is instructive. When he took the Buddha-dharma to Tibet, he did not cast out the old gods and render them into evil entities, as Christians did over in Europe. He made friends and, as a teacher, he raised their perspective so that they could see beyond their situation. He co-opted them to become wrathful protectors of truth – scary, yes, but embodying the fears and defilements that we must face in the process of progressing spiritually. They were given a bigger, broader and deeper job.
This is similar to the legend of Lucifer, the angelic bringer of light, who sheds light on our darker sides, obliging us to learn through hard but necessary lessons. Except the notion of Lucifer got twisted, he was made into a badguy, the light and awareness bit was removed and his badness was made permanent. Poor chap, he’s misunderstood.
Yet there is always redemption, and we can do things to further it. I’m not at all perfect in this, and there are issues I need to sort out before I’m gone. But the main thing is to work at it. The Council of Nine were emphatic about this. [The Nine was a group of cosmic beings I compiled a book for thirty years ago and continue to work with.] They didn’t prescribe an ideal world or state of enlightenment that we should strive to attain – because there’s always further to go, and this is what evolution is all about. They spoke instead of simply creating forwardness and a feeling of progress, because the more it happens, the more it grows in momentum.
That in itself, in any situation big or small, is all that is needed. Whether it’s gardening your allotment, bringing up your kids, doing your work, being socially active or weighing in on large-scale issues, creating forwardness is what we’re here for, as souls. It all adds magnitude to a growing current. It’s about making Earth a good, safe and happy place to live.
In our time, our big advantage is this. Amidst darkness, one candle makes a big difference. In the sunshine, a candle is hardly noticed. We’re in a time when small things matter more than we tend to believe, even though it sometimes feels like the darkness is overwhelming. Yet keeping our eyes on an aged neighbour, changing nappies (diapers), fishing plastic from a river, cooking a nourishing meal for hungry people, or even joining a meditation once a week can make a difference in a beshadowed world.
On Pordenack Point, looking toward Carn Boel and, behind, Tol Pedn Penwith
I have not done well in terms of money or status, though toward the end of my life I’m happy about what I’ve done in other spheres. I’m aware also of times I’ve failed or omitted to step up, but the net balance is, I hope, positive. It feels that way, and in recent years this feeling has helped me deal with cancer: I chose to treat cancer as a crash course in being alive and making the best of what I’m given. Over many years I had gathered a quiverful of growth-tools that have served me well in my cancer journey, and I’m glad I did that. Because cancer and, later, dying, involve a loss of control, and our success in handling them rests on where we’re really at, not in what we’re trying to be. It’s our actual spiritual fitness and muscle-tone that matter here.
This gives us access to a miracle zone where it’s possible to bend, break or bypass the constraints of normality and expectation. Life is a strange dance and, if the one we are dancing with doesn’t dance to the same tune, or seems to oppress or constrain us, then the secret is to step out of the way, out of the set patterns and moulds in ourselves that render us into being victims. The degree to which we feel oppressed, and what we do about it, is something we can change. It can take time and it can be a struggle, but that’s the direction to go in.
A good friend wrote to me as I was writing this. She was concerned about the new outbreak of violence between Palestinians and Israelis. It’s happening yet again. It’s terrible, and it’s easy to get locked into hand-tied consternation about it. Peace will indeed come to the Holy Land, and many people there already subscribe to it. But the dragon’s tail is still thrashing, and it’s tragic and painful for those who are personally affected and involved. Sadly for Israelis, it’s also shutting down an enormous domestic dialogue about the future of their divided nation – predictably, that suppression will charge a high price later on. Yet step back from this conflict and look at it another way, and this is not a war between Israelis and Palestinians so much as a war between the dehumanising drivers of conflict on both sides and ordinary people of both sides.
We can do things about this. We can visit Palestine or Israel to add our bit, or we can make friends with an Israeli or a Palestinian online, or we can donate money, or in meditation we can work at creating a vibe where the people involved are raised up to see things another way, to see the futility of their situation and get a clearer sense of what is genuinely best for the future. It’s not for us to prescribe what that might be, but it is for us to help create a psychic field in which they might progress with what’s genuinely right for them.
Once a conflict starts, it’s not helpful simply to oppose it – it’s too late and, as is often the case, the opportunity for preventing conflict came earlier and we missed it. The trick is to take the situation as it stands, working to twist and weave it another way, to introduce new, unlocking factors, to help those who are suffering, to work with wider public awareness, and even to conduct direct dialogues with generals and fighters in our inner universe.
It’s not a matter of taking sides: we need to step beyond our preferences and biases. No matter how much we believe that past history is important in this or any conflict, it’s the future that really matters.
A young friend in Gaza, Basma, is going to have a baby any day now. What a way for a child to be born. Her brother Moh, a male nurse, escaped Gaza in 2015 and was one of the boat people crossing from Turkey to Greece. He landed up in Belgium, working as a nurse, and died of Covid in 2022. What a life these people have. He had been the hope of the family.
In this week’s meditation, if you join it, I encourage paying some attention to this issue. However, this world is full of worrying problems, and good-hearted people can get overwhelmed with it all. To deal with this, it’s advisable to do small things well rather than big things badly – that is, to focus on the particular issues that mean a lot to you, and to stay with them and proactively do something with them. If we all do that, we’ll cover things better.
It’s also true that everything is interrelated. What’s happening in the Holy Land affects other people and places. Each time something like this breaks out, the collective psyche of the world becomes more disappointed, dismayed and depressed. Explosions and bloodbaths make sensitive, delicate, human issues seem irrelevant, and the problem with this is that empathic sensitivity is a key ingredient in making the world a better place. Wars, meanwhile, are useful to the status quo – they suppress not only the people in war zones, but also the spirits and hopes of humanity as a whole. They make the public jaded, accepting conflict as a given, shrugging shoulders and turning away.
We’re faced with many paradoxes and knife-edge choices in our day. It isn’t simple. This has been the saga of my own life, and many of you might share a similar story. Yet it’s what we’re faced with, and we can fret and worry about it or we can do something, within the scope of our lives and possibilities, and at times beyond it. That is our choice.
Back in 2011 I gave a speech at a conference called ‘Will they still serve tea in 2023?‘. This was the moderate in me, speaking. Some people thought the world might end, or at least radically change, in 2012. Well, life went on after 2012 passed. So, apparently nothing happened. The catastrophists were proven wrong and the normality-freaks seemed to win. But this was a lot to do with the dramatic utterings of advocates who desperately wished to be the one who got a big prediction right. Things did happen. Discreetly, the tide turned. Before 2012 we had a future global problem and, after 2012, we had an actual problem, and as the decades roll on, we’re going deeper into it.
In Britain there’s a legend that King Knut (Canute) tried to demonstrate his power by turning back the tide – and he got wet feet. No, historians are now seeing this differently. He sought to demonstrate that even he, with all his worldly power, could not turn back the tide. He didn’t write an autobiography either.
Castle Rigg stone circle, Cumbria. 4,200 year old sustainable architecture
You’re welcome to join our circle of souls doing a meditation together on Sunday, all at the same time, wherever we are. It’s rather special.
It’s all to bring relief, healing and forwardness to ourselves, people around us and the great wide world. Or perhaps to imitate a mountain for half an hour. Or just to sit there and give ourselves some time and space (go on, pamper yourself!).
In UK we do it at 8-8.30pm, in W Europe 21-21.30, in E Europe, Turkey and the Levant it’s 22-22.30, in Brazil and Argentina it’s 5-5.30pm, in EST USA and Canada, Cuba and Jamaica it’s 3-3.30pm and in West Coast USA and Canada it’s 12 noon-12.30pm.
Makes me feel a bit like Chronos himself when writing all that down!
No sign-up, no recipe, no strings – just turn up in inner space.
Would you believe, this is my hundredth blog. I started the blog just a few weeks before going down with cancer, with no idea it would quickly turn into a cancer blog. That says something about intuition: it has ways of knowing things in advance that we don’t. Consciously, at least.
This is a review of my cancer story, for those of you who are interested.
Cancer was a great surprise when it was diagnosed in November 2019. Looking back, signs were appearing nearly a year beforehand, but they weren’t recognisable. Something wasn’t right, as if I were in a downward spiral, getting tired of life and losing my spark. Neither my partner nor I could figure out what it was.
Then in August 2019, while working in her garden, my back cracked and four of the lowest vertebrae in my back collapsed. At the time it seemed I had an excruciating, immobilising back problem. The pain induced a kind of enforced spirituality, which I blogged about a month later: [1]
“It has been a remarkable initiation, a time of enforced stillness and interiority. Within myself I’ve been ‘back home’ with the star-nation people and have travelled the worlds in ways that ordinary life does not usually permit. Meditatively, I’ve stood alongside people around the world who experience deep suffering, supporting them with gifts of spirit I’m blessed with and finding a deep solidarity with them. I’ve dwelt on my life and what there is left to do with it…“.
A cranial osteopath recommended I get scanned in hospital – he felt something more was going on here (thanks, Simon Perks in Totnes). Getting to hospital was a long process. Eventually, in A&E, the junior doctor, in a quandary, called in a specialist, who entered, stood intently looking at me for a while, then said, “Test him for Myeloma”, and walked out. Brilliant. This man nailed it at first try. Within days I was having treatment. I had Multiple Myeloma or bone marrow cancer.
When the news of cancer hits you, it’s like a thunderbolt and soulquake. Yet it came with a strange element of relief, at last knowing what was actually happening after three months of spirit-wringing pain. For decades I had looked after myself, with a view to avoiding such things as cancer. Had I got things wrong? Seriously ill, if I had arrived in hospital a month later, I was unlikely to have survived. When cancer comes, it can come fast and strong, even if its buildup is long and slow.
After a few days I asked the specialist whether he had any clues about the causes of Myeloma. He looked at me straight and said, quite simply, “Radiation exposure”. The next day he brought a map in The Lancet showing the clustering of Myeloma cases within 40 miles of nuke stations. For 28 years I had lived 15 miles downwind of Hinckley Point nuke station, and I had had two instances of exposure in other contexts too.
Many doctors say the causes of Myeloma are unknown. Certain chemical neurotoxins may also be a cause for some. The reason for this perhaps deliberate unclarity could be the court cases and compensation claims that would erupt if such electronic or chemical toxicity became public knowledge.
The specialist’s opinion just went ‘ping’. I had known since 1975 that I was electrosensitive. This was largely not a problem until around year 2000, when mobile phones and wi-fi became commonplace.
That year I had a ‘dark night of the soul’ crisis and a long illness, going down into the Deep Dark, questioning all I had done over the previous three decades and wondering what value it had really brought. It was a deep honesty session, a struggle with Weltschmerz – the pain of the world. Aged fifty, I think my susceptibility to cancer started brewing around then.
As time went on the electrosensitivity got worse, especially after 4G and smartphones emerged around 2008. By 2014 periodic overdoses of radiation (in a restaurant, meeting, supermarket or train) were giving me rapid-onset flu symptoms, and by 2017 I was getting heart palpitations. It took until 2019 for cancer to show itself.
That year I was working on my prehistory research and mapmaking, in a rather urgent, driven way. Completing it in early August, just two weeks later my back suddenly went crack and my life changed. Well, the research was at least complete – perhaps a hidden hand of fate had known what was going to happen next.
When diagnosed in November I was now very much in the hands of doctors, my partner, my son and a few others – and way out of my depth, flat on my back. It was an exercise in surrender and acceptance.
Having been a health-conscious, vegetarian meditator for decades, and rarely getting ill, I had always assumed I would be exempt from cancer. Well, life has a way of teaching us other things! In our culture cancer is regarded as something going wrong, a failure, but it didn’t quite feel like that, to me. There was something strangely fitting about it, even though life was being hard on me. I decided to suspend all my foregoing beliefs and do my best to trust that, whatever happened, it would be alright. I did hold on to one belief though: that, whatever life presents, there is a gift in it.
Rigorous experiences as a humanitarian, mountaineer and camper had taught me energy-management, attitude-maintenance and steadfastness. Having got through plenty of crises and having survived thus far, I felt it was possible to do so now, whether that meant living or dying.
Trusting the doctors was my only option – and most were really good people. My experience of NHS treatment has largely been positive. I had done alternative medicine for decades, yet I did not have the knowhow, energy, facility, support, time or money to take such an approach now, and already it was too late. Chemotherapy was the only doable alternative. It contravened beliefs I’d held until that moment, yet it felt right to do my best with it. If the angels wanted me alive, they’d keep me alive, and if they didn’t, they’d take me out.
I’m pretty good at handling crises and, here was I, going through a test of spirit. I had to grasp life’s reins on a deep level, since healing means fully allowing healing, fundamentally handing ourselves over to the process. This goes as far as dropping any expectation of what ‘healing’ means – it doesn’t only mean ‘getting better’. Whether I am to live or die, may it be for the best, all round – this was my prayer.
The strong pharmaceuticals shocked my system, though clearly they might also save my life. I asked for inner help in handling whatever was to come. One profound message came through: use your feelings and intuitions to proceed. My brains were not working well – I couldn’t get my head around all the medical research – though my intuitive senses were quite easy to read off. They just say ‘yes’ or ‘no’ – and then it’s up to us to figure out why, or to bear witness to how it comes to be true.
I went inside myself, connecting with the angels like never before. This might sound spurious to some readers but, believe me, when you’re in a situation like this, that’s what you tend to do, whatever your foregoing beliefs. I asked them to support my adaptation to a changed life. But when you ask, you also need to offer: I offered up my life, however it was to be. Whatever needed to happen, may it happen well and may I make it easy – that was my key prayer. I think this really helped, not just psycho-spiritually but medically too.
I used holistic supplements, CBD oil and good nutrition – judiciously, and careful not to mix them or create conflicts with the pharmaceuticals. Over time, various healers and healing circles weighed in – thank you everyone. Some of these interventions made a big difference – including, over time, an E-Lybra machine, radionics, homoeopathy, cranial osteopathy, herbs, chiropractic and prayer. And an old cat, Tomten, who would lie on my pelvis, the most painful place, giving me genuine pain-relief.
So, doctors saved my life and healers gave me a new life. I’ve written this before and it’s true.
I feel immense gratitude to my partner, who gave balm to my heart and helped me through the process – she was a true healer and a great soul. Her love, care and protection made a critical difference in a bleak time. I was a heavy weight for her to carry. There was no financial help for a ‘family carer’ like her, she had a business to keep going and a life already filled with issues and concerns. And I’m a tricky and complex character at the best of times. My son Tulki was a constant companion and support, though he could be present only sometimes. These two made a key difference.
So I followed an intuitive route through the cancer tunnel. I worked at getting the doctors on my side, showing them that I was not one of the awkward squad of ideologically rigid health-freaks, though I did have my own ways and preferences. Two things helped: they found me interesting, cooperative and lucidly descriptive of my symptoms, and, lo behold, as the weeks went by, my medical results were surprisingly good. This gave me leverage.
Still, I had to badger them about drug dosages. I didn’t need blasting with explosives. Eventually they got the message. One or two drugs were withdrawn and one was reduced – the steroid Dexamethasone, which had positive effects on my cancer and distressing behavioural side-effects, especially to people close to me. My dose was reduced and, lo behold, it started working better.
Initially I was supposed to have eight cycles of chemotherapy but they stopped treatment after five, saying I could go. Later on, one specialist said, “Mr Jenkins, I don’t know what you’re doing and I don’t want to know, but whatever you’re doing, keep doing it”.
Myeloma is a blood cancer that causes the bones to hollow out and weaken. It’s not as complex to treat as other cancers – there’s just chemo, with no radiation or surgery (since no tumours are involved). I responded well and quickly. I think the holistic practices, supplements and remedies helped greatly, together with an almost palpable influence from within, from my ‘inner doctors’. They scanned and treated me on an energy-level, and it worked. I think they worked through the hospital doctors as well, in mysterious ways.
I’ll add a few more things: walks on the hills and clifftops; a lovely place to live on a wildlife-rich farm with low EM radiation; unchlorinated springwater from just up the hill; a positive attitude; coming to peace over as many life-issues as possible, and working on the rest.
I’m on an immunotherapy maintenance treatment, Dara (Daratumamab), which flags up emergent cancer cells that my immune system then deals with itself. I have a Dara injection every four weeks – a nurse comes round to shoot me up. She takes my temperature, oxygen count and blood pressure, and every twelve weeks she takes a blood test and sends it off, and it’s from this that my condition is judged. With Myeloma, most people don’t get ‘remission’, just a ‘pause’ – some get a year of life and some get ten. In my fourth year, I’m still alive.
After decades of living a holistic life, your system evolves differently to ‘normal’ people. When you’re doing spiritual work and you have some pretty amazing healers as friends, normal medical rules get bent and broken. But still, there’s a deep karmic story that goes on underneath cancer, with a trajectory of its own. I did well at first but, after two years, I was ailing, hit a crisis and got ready for the possibility of dying within the year. Yes, more wading around in the deep dark!
Yet by summer I was reborn, even attending a week-long Oak Dragon camp, which itself was a healing boost, as much from the people and ambience as from the camping. By now I was in a state of positive shock, realising I was alive, kicking and that there was a future. And perhaps I needed to get a new coat for the winter.
I’m doing well with the cancer, but the side-effects are problematic and these might fell me in the end. It’s all about bones (in my astrological chart I have a strong Saturn). Four of the lowest vertebrae in my back collapsed – I must use sticks to stand and walk. Reducing my height, this squeezed my stomach, leading to digestive and eliminative difficulties. It also caused the outer gluteus muscles in my backside, which do the major pulling, to lose their tension, making long walks strenuous and painful. I have osteonecrosis of the jaw – a dying jawbone – stopped by medication, but an area of susceptibility. And if I break any bones, repair and revival is likely to be difficult. These side-issues affect my life more than cancer does.
Then there is chemo-brain. Chemotherapy chemicals destroy brain-cells and nerve-endings. It has had mixed effects, reducing my left-brained ‘executive’ thinking and memory for details, yet improving my right-brained intuitive-imaginative side. It has pushed me into the present moment – my sense of time, sequence and duration has dwindled. I’ll remember something that was said by someone, but not who it was or when. I screw up easily when things get complex. Yet my creativity – channelled through writing, podcasting and websites – has never been better.
At one stage I asked myself what I would be doing if I didn’t have cancer. “Just carrying on“, was the answer. Instead I have been given a new relationship with life on Earth, an experience-rich new chapter, however long or short it is to be – miraculously paid for by the government and taxpayers. Life is twice as difficult but in compensation it has changed in shape and content. I’m focused now on staying alive more than on life’s many complexities, diversions and tensions.
I’ve had some pretty amazing spiritual initiations in my life, and this has been the next in a sequence, as if it was meant to be that way all along. Well, perhaps it was, perhaps it wasn’t. Having twice come close to dying in the last four years, it has given me some training for the inevitable transitional journey that is yet to come.
So, did I go down with cancer, or did I go up?
In recent months I’ve found that I see no future ahead of me. I’m drawing a blank, and my customary faith in life is not that bright. What does that mean? We shall see. In our time, we are all faced with so many unknowns. Most people can however safely assume they will be alive next year or later in life. Having that assumption removed has a strangely spiritualising effect – and that’s another strange gift that cancer has given. It’s what the psychedelic guru Alan Watts used to call the wisdom of insecurity. Earlier in life I knew it was good to appreciate life and all that it gives us, but cancer has taught me what that means in far more real-life terms.
It’s funny how things go.
With love, Palden
PS. My soul-brother Alan suggests my blogs are too long, and he’s right. But this is how they come out. I wish I had an editor – that might help. I’ll try to do shorter ones. Problem is, I’m a time-rich person writing for readers who are mostly time-poor. But then, if you read this far, well done, you did it!
Disclosure: the apparent paintings were done by me using a graphics program (Corel Painter Essentials 8) – they aren’t paintings. The photos they are based on are by me. The bottom photo is by Lynne Speight.
Notes from the Far Beyond 
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