Is this the last journey we will have to make?
Apart from occasional spur of the moment jaunts
Or longer term commitments to visit friends or family
For special events or perhaps to help to heal a heart ache?

Looking back on the flight from unbearable heat
To the cool of this, our peaceful haven in Devon
Away from the hurly burly and frantic pace
With the prospect of others of like mind to meet.

If there is one word to describe our ambience
It is one of peaceful contemplation and gentleness
Listening to and passing on the words of wisdom
Given and received freely with friendliness.

We are certain that this journey to and from Earth
Is the last of so many to this quarter of the Universe
Which we have made over so many incarnations
Will they mourn our passing with carnations?

Or as Mrs Cropley said with an added pineapple?
Journeys or travel in general broaden the mind
But that’s not all it does for it provides a kind
Of experience valued without measure as ample.

By the one whose presence inspires this journey
Without whom this jaunt could be flaunted
We would certainly be elsewhere and vaunted?
Or maybe hovering in the ether, a waiting attorney?

Soliciting a union to complete a request as a guest
You understand within a suitable human host
This is all that can be asked by the Soul at most
For such a union to provide and know what’s best.

To set out on the journey of choice, maybe the last
Needed to and on this planet to act as an iconoclast
Imploring all to recognise the unseen, uncast
Requiring a degree of faith so unbelievably vast.

To allow and be a part of such a journey into physique
The One that is at the same time aware of every norm
That is human, of every colour, sound and uniform
Or not. Different or the same, at the same time unique.

Are you aware, do you accept this journey as your all
At the same time carrying a Soul of no weight at all
But so weighty in its sacred self, child of the Divine
A part of the Divine which you will realise in time!
© David Tenneson –2018

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What mask will you wear today? Will it be good cop or bad cop? There is so much with which to play …
Is it a question of minding your P’s & Q’s so as not to upset the in-laws or should that be the out-laws?
Can you trust yourself and just be yourself , no worries? And if someone gets upset then that’s their worry, not yours?

Some folks in countries like North Korea have to really mind what they say even to close associates who could sneak to the authorities and they’d find themselves in a labour camp on minimal rations, or maybe they’re already there. Reminiscent of the witch hunts of the Middle Ages? In such countries you quickly learn from the cradle what kind of mask to wear. You can rise to the heights of power, but if you fall out of favour the fall is even greater to the point of extermination!

In a world where strength lies in difference, it is seen as a threat to those in control who endeavour to make us all the same under an iron fist, sometimes disguised in a velvet glove, to minimise the threat and increase their power of control over others like the rest of us.

In days of yore: A knight entering the lists in full armour apart from the displayed crest or coat of arms is to all intents and purposes disguised and could be anyone, like a champion in his place under the enclosed iron helmet. Of course if the knight chooses to wear a lady’s favour on his arm in the form of a ribbon, kerchief or scarf he gives himself away!

There had to be a further subterfuge when greeting the Monarch or Master of the Lists since it was customary to raise the visor or the whole helm when disguise becomes all important without an obvious mask!

Simple masks such as the top part of the face with eye slits or the bottom half of the face covered by a bandana have been used by highwaymen, bandits and even do-gooders not wishing to reveal their identity, throughout the centuries to disguise themselves when committing their activities, but with the same modus operandi are soon known in the shared stories of their exploits by those suffering or benefitting from their deeds.

Then there was the infamous Ned Kelly and his gang in Australia, in relatively modern times, who resorted to homemade armour including a metal helmet of old as a disguise and protection, but for which he became well known, which did not protect him in his last stand against the police in 1880 and in the November he was eventually hanged.

In more gentle pursuits such as a masked ball the object is to fool the other dancers into believing that you are someone else, from which deception illegal or crossed family lovers’ trysts could develop!

The mask of the Ball has become a Carnival which has been developed into the most elaborately themed costumes, masks, makeup and mobile floats with music and choreographed dances, so much so that the names of certain places have become synonymous with carnival, the likes of Notting Hill and Rio on opposite sides of the world, to name just two which have developed into industries of their own taking a full twelve months in preparation for the full event.

Japanese masks are part of a very old and highly sophisticated and stylized theatrical tradition. Although the roots are in prehistoric myths and cults, they have developed into refined art forms. (Courtesy of Wikipedia)

Masks are centuries old traditions in many cultures across the world whose aim in the past and some still today, is to portray images of gods and spirits from the crude carvings in the African continent to the European sophistication of masquerade balls in France and Italy.

Masks and helmets have a modern usage in the protection of the wearer from blood, chemicals, dust, gases and accident with the more robust face cages to protect sportspeople from injury in physical contact and balls of the spherical kind which these days travel in excess of one hundred miles per hour, which could inflict great damage to an unprotected head.

Having touched on so many aspects of the mask I wonder where this is leading us!
For with no special plan, I rely on the finger to tap the keys in the right manner to follow and facilitate me wearing my intuitive writer’s hat and mask for the duration under the title.

Having touched on various aspects of the outer world since all begins within, let us indeed look within to find other masks, maybe missed or forgotten over time or perhaps never consciously known at all: with an appreciation of the many lives we have led and look forward to the one common denominator in them all which is the Soul, the only eternal element that is the Silent Witness to all.

The Soul does not change, only growing in experience, service and purity, but each life it is within wears a different mask without to show the world. Just like in a troupe of players taking the part of say a doctor one week, a clergyman the next, followed by a shepherd and so on. Each mask, each persona different from the last enhancing the experiences of the Soul.

So, the mask you show to the world is one of many worn in the past, the details of which are hidden in the consciousness of the Soul that remembers everything. Hidden because if you knew what had gone on before you might take a different turn in this life rather than starting off with a blank sheet to begin life anew. Hidden because: What would be the point if you were conscious of what had occurred in the remote past? You could be elated, proud or appalled which might alter the course projected by and for the purpose of the Soul in this life.

This is why the Mask matters. It matters that you make the most, the best of all that appears as a challenge, a bonus of good fortune or to reciprocate a love that knows no bounds, just as I have been fortunate to experience in this life. In fact, I am told that I have taken what has been offered throughout many lifetimes to make the very best of every life and hope that you will too at least this time round.

The only opportunity that remains for many of us is to stop beating ourselves over the head for perceived, remembered or current thoughts or actions that do not come up to the higher and higher ideals that we have and continue to set for ourselves.

The answer?

The answer is forgiveness: not to spend your days on your knees in repentance or remorse, although the right attitude of a penitent does help for a fleeting moment, because you are already forgiven by the Lord Logos through unconditional love, but more importantly to forgive yourself.

I have found the latter the most difficult to achieve since my vivid imagination plays over and over again the same looped tape of my own perceived transgressions when I could have behaved in a better way towards others.

There are some actions which were unconscious like my working in a hospital treating the sick and not realising that I was carrying the bug of tuberculosis which I passed on to my patients who subsequently died at a time when there was no treatment available. I was mortified at the time as I too eventually succumbed to the disease in the Temple Beautiful in ancient Egypt, realising what I had done!

I have carried that guilt through many life times which has left me with a condition not life threatening but nevertheless distressing for me and for others, which will only subside when I can forgive myself for this and other unforeseen consequences of my actions resulting from my healing quest over many centuries. Or, on second thoughts maybe, just maybe it is something which I have to carry for this life and for the benefit of Soul experience. In this life I urge you to take great care, since how you really are will show unmistakably in your face to those who can see!

If you are at all in doubt about your own health, you can approach this scenario through deep meditation when you can strip away all masks leaving you in your present purity of mind and body, healed, ready for your next challenge and wearing the real mask of you today, when you can begin to love yourself unconditionally!
Bringing Light to All, Hanukah & the Angel

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We all strive to make things good
Sometimes I wonder if we should
Or is that too broad an exaggeration
‘All’ maybe needs some moderation.

Some make us strive for perfection
Driving us into mental aberration
Not to say panic questioning ability
Throwing the consciousness into nullity.

Dangerous territory you must agree
When the mind should always be free.
To control itself, its body and its life
Free of outside interference and strife.

We can expect only to do our best
No matter what’s insisted by the rest
Perfection is at best a fairy story
It’s never done, a myth of history.

Something stopped and said completed
Invites a change, an enhancement meted
Out in terms of fresh ideas, new desires
Surging forth from the inner mental fires.

If anything were considered to be perfect
There would be no room for betterment
All would become static from firmament
To the mind itself and all desires we elect.

Society tries to make us all the same
Assuming no conflict would remain,
But we are all unique, we are different
Than the rest, we should not be diffident.

We must be confident in our difference
In which lies our strength, not perfection
We all have our so called imperfections
Which makes us our special inference.

Although none of us is special and yet
We are all special, caught in the net
Of evolution doing our best, all met
By what we conjure from cause to effect.

Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, so said
The ugly sage upon beauty fed, the image
Seen in the mirror on rising from the bed
There is no point in sitting on the edge.

See beauty in all that you perceive
Which others judge less than perfect
Fat and overfed, skin and bone, leave
All for others their own mind to infect.

Be the one who sees beyond the image
In the glass, sees perfection in every one
Of us, everyone of us in a group or alone.
Love all you see and bless with homage.

This way lies happiness, boundless joy for you
The consciousness revels in your new found truth
You are the child of the Devine, seeing as it sees
As all is worthy of unconditional love perceived.
© David Tenneson –2018

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From the East, where we first tried to find somewhere to live to the South West we are now in the South of the County of Devon close, but not overlooking the South coast. We do however get the seagulls foraging for food possibly invited, so they think, by the scent of fish and chips from the Chip Shop down the road in the village.

The direction to the South is the Way of the Healer, which if remote memory serves, is my way and has been my pathway throughout the mystical memories of past lives over many moons now largely lost in the mists of time, but recoverable if we only make and take the time.

When our helpers guided us to find this place the initial reason was to be the least cold space so as not to present too extreme a physical change from the Plains of Spain where we had plied our trade, so to speak, for 12 years and for health reasons we have been advised to try and maintain as even a temperature as possible in our daily latter lives.

Now that we are settled, we realise that the many hidden reasons for this venue are trickling into the waking consciousness, not to say coming to the fore, but just lurking under the surface ready to be realised and accepted as part of the plan, laid in the form of the many challenges which come to the consciousness in their due time.

We often feel that opportunities come all at once and tend to promote the feeling that we are being tested in some way, but as I say: challenges come in their due time and time being the unruly child of space gives not a hoot for our abilities, fears or apprehensions to cope with any or all of the challenges set before us individually or all at once! It’s just a test! Or, is it just a jest?

We have the opportunity to manage time and not to let time manage us as it so easily tends to seem to be intent on doing. We are the lucky ones with, some would say, time on our hands being retired and time to manage our affairs without the encumbrance of work which plagues the management of time in the lives of the working generations.

Luckily, or by some playful plan we are spared the extremes of temperature experienced by those in the North and in our neck of the woods, where temperate peace is prevalent to bless our days for which we are eternally grateful.

Not to say that we escaped completely since the December storm of Caroline blew the rain horizontally under the veranda, normally our dry passage before or after any outing, but gave everything a good dousing, which on reflection saved me having to hose down the paving slabs. So there was a positive result as always to any challenging event! If we look hard enough.

Being in the Northern hemisphere we always hurried south towards the equator for any holiday, but in the twelve year retreat only a third of the way there we found the extremes of temperature difficult to manage. We are therefore content in this, our new found haven of a tempered climate, easy on plants and easy on us too.

Not to say that we have become too parochial if only in the plant world, around us on three sides where plants from many countries of the globe do well, blessing us in due seasons with sight and scent, of form, colour and eternal fragrance throughout the year.

Such blessings were hard to come by or to recognise in the frenetic past of furious attempts to earn a living, but all that has taken its rightful place as a mere memory now, recovered as you see, as and when we might recall as if we needed reminding … well, yes, of course it is a useful tool for comparison when considering how lucky we are in the South.

Wherever you reside whether in the North, East, West or South (NEWS?), fake or otherwise. Comparison is one thing, but now since many experience the pressures of life as too much to bear on occasion, it is so useful to have your notebook handy to record the many things for which you can be grateful on a daily basis, including noting the essential images of your dreams which can be messages of blessing, hope or warning of dangers to avoid. Take note and note it down as soon a waking consciousness, pen a paper allows! Thus remembering past the constant clouding of the consciousness colluded by those pressures that living brings to bear!

Do not discount those dreams from the day or the night as countless, worthless or just the manifestations of a far too busy mind! There is substance from the waking and indeed the sub-conscious state of the most powerful machine that we all possess and carry in our brain … the consciousness.
Bringing Light to All, Hanukah & the Angel

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The dreaded Clone came back again
And again, and again.
How did that happen?
With every precaution taken
Every sensible measure made
Just as Mum had said I should.
Keeping warm
Layer upon layer
Relying on her remedy
Hot honey and lemon
What more could I do?
Things to do
People to see
Places to visit
Chores to complete.
I can’t stop living
I might die
But not from the dreaded clone
I hope! By and by. Who knows?
We’re promised more cold
More weather of the same
Is that cloned too?
Ten years without the white stuff
A decade without snow
A new experience lies ahead,
Past remembered in the head.
Our feathered friends feel the onset
Weighing down the branches
In their frantic flocks
Not knowing,
Not knowing which way to turn …
They are as apprehensive as us
We’ve put out more food
Thinking of their good.
Maybe they’ll be gone
Gone south to warmth
To warmer climes we left
Not so long ago,
Bonne chance mes amis!
Good luck to all, say I,
Wish this cloned cough and cold
Would go south too!
© David Tenneson –2018

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Looking forward to the immediate future when we are literally set adrift in the midst of the seas, North and Atlantic, this notion goes against my abhorrence of speculation, preferring not to dwell on the various opinions of a subject over which I have no influence or power to change, leaving that task to our elected representatives and preferring to wait until the dust has settled to a conclusion which I must then respect.

However we can but wonder how the momentous changes in the offing will affect us. Eh?

We are in general a fairly tolerant nation of all religions, wouldn’t you say? Apart that is from those outreaches of our unity that still allow intolerance to fester in their hearts, spreading to a disrespect of each other of the same nationality.

It is often said when two cannot agree to put them both in a big sack, give it a good shake and see which one comes out first! What that proves I’m not sure, but I remember my Granny saying such.

I have a dream that this United Kingdom of Great Britain (GB) will become a static Tabernacle, not movable like the one the Jews used on their journey through the desert, unmoved but so big that it covers every portion of the GB. Not square therefore but of a flexible shape to take in every island and extremity of GB.

Not only flexible in shape but also flexible in its tolerance of every religion or no religion giving respect to everyone by everyone.

Recent archaeological excavations in Orkney have proved that the Temples in that area preceded even Stone Henge as places of worship giving a format followed by others on the mainland of GB.

There is a heritage which has remained hidden and referred to as occult erroneously imagined to be of a Pagan, Wicca or Druid based religion and therefore thought of as something to be abhorred by the Christians of all cults and denominations over the intervening centuries.

If we travel back in time to the period when all known land masses existing today were joined together as a single land mass known as Pangaea the legend of Atlantis has a more tangible relevance, since evidence of its reality has been found in Europe in south western Spain, off the shores of Ireland at Hy Brasil to the other side of the Atlantic Ocean in the USA. What seems to be missing from any discussion about their individual validity is the possibility that they could all be relevant.

From which you will gather that I do believe in Atlantis which was actually just one of the cities making up that confusing conurbation. Simply because I was there at the time which in modern parlance would mean a life some 75,000 years ago, where I was involved in healing as I was in many lifetimes including the present day.

The Tabernacle of the time was round, copied in an attempt to replicate its spiritual power and healing potential in similar circular buildings, fabricated in such places to have been spared the complete devastation of the upheaval that caused the continents to start their drift apart and for flooding to take place of the original cities. Evidence of such remains can be found at Göbekli Tepe in Turkey being over 700 metres above sea level with up to sixteen circular temples making up the complex, Rapa Nui on Easter Island, and the temple of the ‘H’ blocks etc., defying all attempts to find how they were constructed to such fine degrees and perfect alignment, impossible with current tools.

There are some monuments left for us to ponder and some seem to have missed the mark and appear to me to be failed attempts to copy Tabernacles and statues of old, such as the figures of Easter Island and our own Stone Henge both of which are as crude as the come. Some though have left the bare bones so to speak showing say, a circular skeleton, but there is something fundamental missing like a roof of protection. How about glass, made from sand which from say 50,000 years ago and extremes of temperature, had ample time to degenerate all on its own and revert to the sand from which it was made, leaving just the round stone base to intrigue us?

In many a temple or Tabernacle there is what is generally termed the Holy of Holies where only the Elders or High Priests were allowed access. The question in many a mind of why, what have they got to hide? Arises naturally, without understanding the nature of that powerful place where only those with the required learning , understanding and protection should be permitted entry.

Imagine giving uncontrolled access into the control room of a nuclear power plant for untrained and unqualified children to press any pretty button they pleased and you can get a glimpse of the trust put into the hands of well meaning but ignorant people and you can imagine how the devastation that caused the initial destruction of Atlantis, the following flood and consequent splitting of Pangaea to happen, which still goes on today through the movement of the tectonic plates and the underground nuclear tests by some misguided megalomaniacs!

The Tabernacle and its inner sanctum is a special place for very good reasons, first among which is for the protection of all who would follow the keepers of the sacred secrets of any spiritual teaching.

We all have our own Tabernacle, within which resides the Eternal Soul.
Do you not think that this sacred place, this host body needs our love, special care and attention to preserve the sacred nature within?
Bringing Light to All, Hanukah & the Angel

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I looked upon my journey in Spain for all those years as a Retreat, built for others to share in all that one could expect from a treat, in the sun.

At no time did I look upon my sojourn in that warm and sunny space as anything approaching Exile staring me in the face.

But now in retrospect and with respect to others on the one hand, I can see that relevance of being in a foreign land.

Admittedly by my own volition and not forced from my home country by some exclusion.

Not being able to get the language into my mind, although with my own loving interpreter, I can now see those years as an Exile of a kind.

I relate so well to kin having no voice and the silence of the Spirit and the Soul within by choice.

Mine was a self imposed Exile, a retreat from language, thinking this was a retreat for others at the right age.

But no. Unlike one I know.

Having decided on the path and life to follow, the Soul at the moment of entering the embryo, capable of sustaining life filling that physical hollow,

Forgoes any connection or say in the running or steering of the ship, to remain for the duration of this voyage as the Silent Witness, handing all control to the Spirit.

The Spirit as we know has the Con in its control, but again cannot speak or even cajole.

However, in view of its command of the body can let the consciousness become aware of any misgiving or unhappiness through uneasiness.

At worst by pain so acute controlled through the nervous system route.
How else do you make yourself understood with voice turned to mute?

In a strange country where you are not heard you do not speak the language, it’s hard to become one of the herd.

You are viewed not with suspicion, but as eccentric with mild contrition?

These are not your people, who you had to leave behind, where signs can often have the opposite meaning in the mind.

The written word means nothing here, they cannot read your words however full of longing, fright or fear.

This was how the letter home was born and once a month I could relate how life was treating me from sleep ’till morn. I could explain in words, sent to them all, to understand how I was happy though underscored or hidden, forlorn.

I succumbed to the human trait to get things done from front door to garden gate.

Which luckily was my passion for the ground in what was for the most part sun scorched dry and brown.

It would have been so much better to relax in what became my own retreat and leave sought after connection to the monthly letter feat.

But that was not our way. We had to be doing in what ever way suited us best to fill our day.

The locals were there to teach us but we were too proud and inured to a different way of being. Strange that we could not learn and become cured.

Of our stolid stubbornness and confessed intransigence.

To follow our own thoughts and beliefs rather than to hang on to others’ instilled briefs.

Any other sometime disaffection was allayed through prayer and intimate connection which continues to this day, a thousand miles away, in conscious meditation or subconscious unconditional affection.
© David Tenneson –2018

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