Tuesday, May 3, 2016


So, first, tonight at sunset is the apex of Bealtaine.  Not tomorrow night.  I am sure I have said before that the sun at 15 degrees of Taurus is an approximation.  You can celebrate tomorrow night, or Thursday night, and even Friday will have a little of the energy and spirits. Many will wait around for Mother's Day.  (See this post: http://www.laladyrae.blogspot.com/2013/05/mothers-day-is-new-bealtaine.html)

But for all intents and purposes, tonight at sunset will be the best.  It was not just the spirits themselves waking me up in the middle of the night, but also the drop in temperature, which always comes before both Bealtaine and Samhain- the spirits come from a place that to us seems cold.

To the newer spirits it probably seems cold.  It's really neither hot nor cold.  It is outside of mortal experience.  But especially for the newly departed it is a dark, cold, lonely, place.  I don't get visits from the Carl Sagan's or the people that truly believed in some sort of afterlife- especially those that truly believed a religious system.

(The former- the true atheists and non-believers- just die.  Their consciousness evaporates and sinks back into the pool that is the entirety of the human spirit- all those that have lived, are living, and will live.  The latter- those with a strong belief system are immediately surrounded by those on the other side that share their beliefs.  In other words, they get the angels and the heaven, or hell, etc. Obviously those that get the heaven are less likely to leave, and those that end up in hell usually start trying to claw their way out.  So usually I meet the most tortured of the lot.)

Last night I got a good glimpse of a few of our famous recently deceased.  These could have been "iterations"- using the term as it was used in The River, a series on Netflix starring Stellan Skarsgard, meaning personal formations of memory of the dead to create new experiences with them, as opposed to actual spirit visitations.

I saw Prince, still on the elevator.  Like a lot of folks that die in their sleep or while unconscious, he woke up and everyone else was dead.  Michael Jackson was wandering around for weeks, even after his funeral-- thinking it was all dream.  When Prince gets off the elevator, all of his people on the otherside will be there to meet him.  And his God.  But right now, based on what I saw, he is still wandering.  (I suspect that once he is "crossed over" -- I put that in quotes because there are so many levels of crossing over that there is no definitive line, at least not from my viewpoint as one of the living-- he will be dressed like Judas in the title track number from Jesus Christ Superstar, all in white and with full-on angel wings.  He'll be flying around dropping magickal Prince glamour dust on dance parties and celebrations and anyone doing anything to make the planet a better, more musical and sexy place.)

It was Bowie's spirit-- or my own iteration of his spirit- that I followed as he wandered the titular corridors of the dead.  He seemed to be mostly watching over his wife and family-- especially late at night and before the morning twilight.  And especially when they are unable to sleep and reading something of his, or looking at things he left behind for them. He is still working on his projects, as many of the dead are likely to do.  (I imagine I will continue to be writing for years after I am dead.)

He was listening to a lot of Bolan, or it was playing on the soundsystem in the corridors, I am not sure. I've had the pre-Bealtaine earworm for weeks of "King of the Rumbling Spires", a song I consider a better anthem for the holiday than "Beltane Walk". **

I didn't discover Bolan- other than "Bang A Gong"- until the early 80's.  Bolan's spirit comes back faithfully to visit his fans every year on the date of his death, and he usually stays until the anniversary of his birthday.  But did he do that in the first few years after the accident?  I don't know.  I do hope eventually Bowie will come back to visit on a bigger scale.  He might be working on his costume and stage show for those appearances.  (Bolan is often riding a white swan, etc.)

Anyhow, I kept trying to catch up with Bowie, and technically it was dream, but I was pretty aware that I was zooming around on the astral plane and that I was asleep.  I finally found him looking at a memory-- and it may not have been his memory, it might have belonged to someone else, about his death.  Suddenly I was in the corridor of one of my way-back ancestors estates, a guardian spirit that lurks around all of us, although I am usually the only one that can see her.

She must have screwed things up for my family (I mean the bloodline that my current incarnation was born to), based on the wealthy position her family had as head stewards to some Lord or Laird or whatever.  I could still see Bowie wandering around the estate of the memory he was visiting, while my ancestor was ragging on me about my health.  (Yes, I promise to change my ways and quit all my nasty habits, etc.) Then I was briefly in the Bob Fosse corridor of death at the end of the movie "All That Jazz", and then I was awake, and a bunch of the earthbound dead were having a big shindig and hollering at me to get up and go find a place to see the sunrise, and where was the fire gonna be tonight, and was I gonna frolic out in the fields and etc.

And I was like, "damn, you couldn't wait, I was just about to meet David Bowie's spirit."

So, if you are still here, lol, tonight is gonna have MAJOR MOJO SUPERPOWER ENERGY FOR CHANGE.  Light that candle, celebrate that sunset, fuck somebody, or make love or have sex or whatever term makes you feel good about the act, send some Praises, Thanks, and Blessings out to what you love you in your life, and send some wishes up in the winds and the smoke from your fires for what you want more of in your life.

In addition to "King of the Rumbling Spires", or whatever your Bealtaine soundtrack is, I strongly suggest listening at least once to "Controversy" and reciting the "People call me rude/ I wish we all were nude..." chant sequence as an invocation.

Ask yourself: Do you believe in God? Do you believe in yourself?  Do you wanna die to be free?  If life is just a game, do you wanna play?

These are all serious and legitimate questions, especially right now.

Anyhow, that is enough my ramblings.  You know what to do.  The energy is there.  We are finally getting a dose of the antidote for the shitstorm that is 2016.

Happy Bealtaine, peeps!!!!!!! xoxoxo

** I also picked up something I am not sure I fully noticed before- the "Sam" in "Scream Like A Baby" is possibley a reference to the song "Telegram Sam." ("I remember Sam cuz he was like me/ and I never knew his last name/ and we never had no fun..."  Bowie might not have been referring to Tony Secunda, Bolan's manager, specifically.) http://www.songfacts.com/detail.php?id=7783

BTW, "we never had NO fun"- also occurs to me this could mean "we never had a time that wasn't fun".  In other words, it might be intentionally misleading.

1 comment:

  1. the Goddess will come get me in her chariot and take me to sessumnir.