A flicker of a sun beam

Dancing on the wall

In my imagination

I am ten feet tall

Peering into the glass

Defocused vision sees

All that there should be

And though I may question

And though I may search

The answer is another question

Echoing inside my soul

I’m falling, then rising

Bobbing along the stream

Taken where I will be

Or washed up on a lonely shore

And I’ll find you there

Endless and unseen

A duality of infinity

Just like in a dream

From which I awaken

Without memories

Without me

As one

With you all

For Wen…

Sue Vincent's Daily Echo


Whiter than the swan on a lake

Whiter than the gull of the stream

Whiter than snow on the high-peak.


Like a wave of the sea from ebb to flood

Slender as the tall-birch, blowing…

Of a shape sweet as full-bodied clover, bobbing…

Of a colour fair as summer’s bright-morn, glowing…

Your presence, the dawning glory of the land.


Lovely the sun’s smile, rising…

Lovely the moon’s sheen, climbing…

 Lovely the stars gleam, shining…

 More lovely, the blush of your cheek.


 Love, Don x


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The Natural Gods

If the Goddess is the seasons

And God just day and night

Powers given human form

Unmovable might

Winter turns to Spring

Night turns to day

As Živa has her way

Swept by these ancient powers

Humans are powerless

Observers of a celestial battle

Rhythmically fought

Watchers of the Elohim

And mattering nought

The elements wane and wax

Through season and day

Perun and his axe

Making their way

In the imagination

Of His reflection

Made from clay

Those Questions

Periodically, I ask myself those questions. You know. “Why am I here? What am I?”

With recent events, I found myself questioning again. There was a time when I was younger I would have been adamant that I am an eternal being. These days, I’m unsure what eternal signifies as it demands I have an answer for the question – what is time? And I don’t. Although I have directly experienced things that suggest we do survive after death, as I get older, I actually find it more acceptable that perhaps we don’t. Which is a tad weird but, where was I during the 8 hour bowel surgery I had a few years ago? It was as if I did not exist during that time.

It’s hard to conclude that perhaps we are really nothing. Just actors strutting our time on stage to be blown out like a candle at some point in time. But thinking about what we are is even more mind boggling – like thinking about infinity. There are lots of theories these days but no real answers because no one has ever come back and told us what happens. Or, perhaps they have?

Someone I have known form many years is Anthony Peake and he has developed a lot of theories about this very topic based on a synthesis of science, medicine, psychology and more. His theory is something like that just before we actually die, time stops. We then relive our life over and over again. His theory can neatly explain deja vu, and many other phenomena. He sees us as having two components – one an eternal aspect and the other a temporal aspect that is actually living the life. He likens this to a video game in which you play a character in the game. Each time you die, your character respawns and starts again under the control of the player of the game. It’s quite a neat theory. But whether it is correct? Who knows?

After decades of esoteric work, I’m not even convinced that this isn’t a dream and my dreams reality. My dreams are complex, filled with details and I have even awakened from a dream to find I am in another…. so how do i know that the next wake up isn’t simply to another dream?

I have also pondered if we live a life at all? Perhaps now is all there really is and our past is simply a false memory placed there to give us context? And if so, are we just characters in a game – in a computer program something is running somewhere for fun? Am I in the end just a plaything? or just a simulation? A what-if experiment?

The more I think on this stuff, the more I end up down a rabbit hole. So in the end, what is, is. I had better own it and get on with it to the best of my ability. This means accepting responsibility.

In the last decade or so, we have all observed the growing idea that people are not responsible for themselves. Someone else is always to blame. These days, white males mostly it seems. I think this idea that we are victims and need to be protected is the very antithesis of our role in life, which is to engage, to live, to love and to direct our own lives as best we can. I think the victim mentality will result in the end of humanity if it is pursued to its logical conclusion. We have evolved by living – a constant brawl with events and situations that hone us, firm us and make us into well-rounded people.

If there is any point in living, it surely is to mature and evolve? The only way to do that is to engage in life and take responsibility for it…..


Today, I feel like a light went out in the world and it became a little darker, a little dimmer. Yet, for all of that, the world has benefited from the kindness, unselfishness and wisdom of that little light and much of what she wrote, did, and dreamed remains with us, to find in books and blogs, paintings and poems. In time, I will write a more fitting tribute to my best friend, Sue Vincent. Today, I cannot because every time I try, I flood with tears. Her passing was expected but it still is a shock and an enormous hole in life suddenly.

I have known her for years. In fact, to be honest I cannot really recall when and how we first met. Sue, of course, would have been able to pinpoint the exact date and reason I am sure. It revolved around an esoteric bulletin board though were we began to comment on each other’s writings and musings, visit each other’s blogs and so on. We then discovered she was also chatting there to one of my sons…..

Strangely enough, we didn’t actually physically meet until relatively recently. It was rather an email and phone relationship. This morning, I searched back amongst my gmail looking for a beginning and counted well over 3000 emails back and forth since 2013. By then we had already written a book together so I have no idea how many communications there were prior to then…. thousands more I am sure. We finally met one night in a London hotel lobby at short notice – I was there on business, she on a course. Funnily enough, my son was there too.

In recent years, we managed a few more meetings – a very special long weekend with Sue and Stuart initially and then two more Silent Eye weekends – one on her 60th birthday was very special. I had, as you do, assumed there would be many more….

Sue didn’t have the easiest of lives, but she dealt with each blow, each problem or issue resolutely and positively including the cancer that finally took her. When I needed help – emotionally, spiritually or just a giggle, all I had to do was pick up the phone and that lively, happy voice spoke words of wisdom and encouragement.

In our final communication very recently, I told her that some people claim to have met or interacted with an angel. But I actually had – her. Her response, the last thing she sent, was a single heart emoji.

I’m ringing my meditation bell tonight in the hope that, just as in the movie, every time a bell rings an angel gets its wings.

Me, Coronavirus, and the Vaccine

I agree with my fellow Hullonian…

Peter C Whitaker

At this moment in time I have no plans to have any of the three currently available vaccines for COVID-19. My reasoning is as follows.

1. All of the vaccines currently being administered were approved using Regulation 174 of the Human Medicine Regulations 2012. This enables rapid temporary regulatory approvals to address significant public health issues such as a pandemic.

2. None of the vaccines currently being administered remove the possibility of an individual either contracting or transmitting the virus. As this is true everyone is directed to abide by the same current social distancing protocols as those who have not had the vaccine.

3. I have a rare muscle condition treated by use of an orphan drug. No one in my medical situation participated in any of the trial groups. There is no evidence available to inform a decision as to whether the vaccine might prove harmful to me…

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Dog Woes

Last weekend, my daughter’s small dog happily off leash at the park, ran into someones backyard where it was viciously mauled by a much larger dog. My daughter witnessed the entire episode. For a while, it seemed as if we may lose Rocky our proud little ‘dogman’. He is a Prague Ratter breed and quite an intelligent dog. Of course, he and my daughter have grown up together and despite games that Im sure the dog doesn’t appreciate (dressing up etc.), they love each other dearly.

Despite everything, Rocky is surviving and hopefully on its way to recovery. Though what recovery will look like we are not quite sure. It had the skin more or less ripped away from its back and one front leg and paw virtually chewed off. Despite that, he managed to ‘escape’ the comfy little prison we have built him to sit on the bed behind me. He hates being alone.

His Royal Dogness in better days….

I think perhaps it taught my daughter something I have tried to explain. Life can change unexpectedly in an instant.

Morana and Spring Equinox

An ancient Slavic ritual welcoming the start of Spring

Earth Magic Brno

Way back at the start of winter, I engaged in an old Slavic tradition and collected materials from around my neighborhood to construct an effigy of Morana, Goddess of Winter. I used natural materials gathered from the forest and a couple of rubber bands to hold it together. Morana has sat in the room close to my desk since then.

Then yesterday, on the Spring Equinox, I continued that tradition. After meditating and invoking Morana over the three winter moons, it was time to say goodbye. I chose a beautiful spot in nature outside of Brno by Hrad Veveri to conduct this simple ritual that many Slavs would also have been conducting throughout history.

Fittingly, it had snowed overnight and the days was dull with snow flurries. Winter was still evident, yet spring was also with the rushing meltwaters in the stream, the birds singing and the odd crocus peeking…

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Windblown stone

Magical beauty in Yorkshire…

Sue Vincent's Daily Echo

Still stuck at home…possibly for good now… I can still share memories and previous visits to places that have special meaning for me. Some, like Brimham, were magical, both in their own right and to the eyes o the child who wandered between the rocks…

X ilkley weekend 162When I was a child I was taken to a magical landscape… one of many my parents and grandparents shared with me; gifts I loved then, but have only fully learned to appreciate now, when I realise how lucky I was. Raised in the city for most of my childhood, I might have known only the pollution stunted trees or the green regiments of parks, instead I learned to love the forests that whisper secrets from hoary, moss-grown bark and the thick undergrowth where enchantment awaits. They read me books and wrote me stories… any tree could be the Faraway Tree, and Seelie, the water-fairy…

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