This blog is resultant of my visit to Dier El Bahari - Temple of Queen Hatshepsut in March, 2011 (one week following Egypt’s revolution against Mubarak). In 1997, I had visited this temple just two days prior to a terrorist attack, which killed and injured several tourists. Then, years later with so much renovation to the beautiful temple, it was shocking when our group healing ritual seemed to awaken an old memory and unsettled senses of that day. As I later sat meditating/trancing on a stone slab floor in the Queen’s healing court, residual site memories came alive, as well as wandering spirits appeared to me, clairvoyantly . . . thus, became the DREAM of AMUN-RA . . . not only did Ra assist our group healing for the world in general, but also for the scars upon the site and spirits. So . . . as I mused for a blog for September 1st, I was led back to this story . . . most appropriately written as observer of a healing of an ego-inner-self . . . and applicable for all manner of afflictions or life situations; a healing of terrorist and victim, alike; especially for these turbulent, transitional times.
THE DREAM OF AMUN-RA
She walked closer to the place where old memories waited. They had waited fourteen years for her to come back for much had been left unresolved, broken like the pieces of scattered pottery which littered the area then. Rising higher in the azure sky, I spread my arms outward across desert expanse then touch the golden sandstone cliff walls behind the temple first with fingertips before pulling the curtain of shade down so that my light dances upon the rocks revealing many mysterious shapes and faces. My light becomes liquid gold, dripping like honey over the temples walls and columns reminding of its former glory to those who approach with eyes filled with awe. Not hers, for those eyes see something quite shocking. Instead of a carpet of gold that I roll down the steps in welcome, she sees the flow of dark red blood. Then it is gone.
Today, she is in greater pain with additional physical discomfort centered in the lower back and hips, the place where support fails one and old burdens weigh heavily even in the cool morning air. Nausea and a sudden splitting headache would insist that she simply sit there, giving up, but she will not for she subconsciously agreed to represent all souls fragmented and left behind both at the time of the Queen’s demise, throughout history up to a tragic moment in 1997. Their pain and negative thought forms pile upon her shoulders like an over-burdened donkey until she thinks her knees will surely buckle beneath the burden. Yet, they do not and she doggedly continues to the temple, stepping gingerly through the stream of flowing blood that the others see as golden steps lit with my smile.
With a gulp to muster courage, she mounted the final steps to join the others excitedly pointing to the beauty of temple paintings and hieroglyphics etched onto walls and columns. Darting between the silent sentinel columns, however, she sees curious misty forms peering from the shadows. More shadow beings dance along the upper walls, others sit dangling invisible legs from edge of the roof while darker entities slink down from the caves along the rock walls. Specters watch the strangers chattering among the temple walls and she ponders if it is all just an over-active imagination. Alas, I know better and all Neteru rejoice with the healing taking place in multidimensional planes.
A ritual for healing begins within the healing court, waking even the rocks and bodiless voices that sound as if coming from a great distance, but heard only by practiced ears. All souls who haunt this place call out with one heart, whether they were victim or victimizer and their plea echoes within the heart breaths taken by these strangers. The ritual grows with intensity and I shall lend my powerful light to aid in sending it outward to any who are despairing across the entire world.
Nekhebet, the Vulture Goddess, spreads her great iridescent black wings to fly to the place where Anubis said to go. The Neteru answered the call of these blessed strangers to aid the healing in whatever form or at whatever level available as each of the celebrants beseeched of them. Waves of healing energy danced upward then along my strong, radiating arms, healing vibrations raised with tentative voices that grow braver and stronger with the steps of a spiral dance connecting each from heart to heart to heart.
Aiwa, it was finished! The blood has dried, vanishing into golden sand once more. The dark spirits become wisps of silver mist, dissipating in noonday heat. The clouds of darkness thickened by layers of hate, greed and pain shed their tears, which evaporate before they can soak back into the soil. Terrorist souls, reincarnated from the time of hate and murder of a Queen’s empire, release their hate and turn away. The chains holding the souls of anger and revenge break as well as those entrapping the innocent who perished in the cruelest of ways without peace for the suddenness of their death. Ma ’at has returned to this place and Karma finished from ancient eras as well as for this time.
As the old burden lifts, she takes in a full deep heart breath releasing and cleansing the fear brought full-circle. She looks at the reconstructed temple, which is no longer a jumble of scattered chunks of stone like pieces from a mad man’s giant jigsaw puzzle as she first saw it over twenty Earth years ago. Thus, she completed the missing piece from her own shamanic work and I am pleased. This time she did not stubbornly refuse to come here.
Therefore, Ra mounted his great golden solar boat, sailed across the sky, happy in the knowing that on this day his powerful flames were used wisely, destroying in the way that powerful healing must often do.
THE DREAM OF AMUN-RA
She walked closer to the place where old memories waited. They had waited fourteen years for her to come back for much had been left unresolved, broken like the pieces of scattered pottery which littered the area then. Rising higher in the azure sky, I spread my arms outward across desert expanse then touch the golden sandstone cliff walls behind the temple first with fingertips before pulling the curtain of shade down so that my light dances upon the rocks revealing many mysterious shapes and faces. My light becomes liquid gold, dripping like honey over the temples walls and columns reminding of its former glory to those who approach with eyes filled with awe. Not hers, for those eyes see something quite shocking. Instead of a carpet of gold that I roll down the steps in welcome, she sees the flow of dark red blood. Then it is gone.
Today, she is in greater pain with additional physical discomfort centered in the lower back and hips, the place where support fails one and old burdens weigh heavily even in the cool morning air. Nausea and a sudden splitting headache would insist that she simply sit there, giving up, but she will not for she subconsciously agreed to represent all souls fragmented and left behind both at the time of the Queen’s demise, throughout history up to a tragic moment in 1997. Their pain and negative thought forms pile upon her shoulders like an over-burdened donkey until she thinks her knees will surely buckle beneath the burden. Yet, they do not and she doggedly continues to the temple, stepping gingerly through the stream of flowing blood that the others see as golden steps lit with my smile.
With a gulp to muster courage, she mounted the final steps to join the others excitedly pointing to the beauty of temple paintings and hieroglyphics etched onto walls and columns. Darting between the silent sentinel columns, however, she sees curious misty forms peering from the shadows. More shadow beings dance along the upper walls, others sit dangling invisible legs from edge of the roof while darker entities slink down from the caves along the rock walls. Specters watch the strangers chattering among the temple walls and she ponders if it is all just an over-active imagination. Alas, I know better and all Neteru rejoice with the healing taking place in multidimensional planes.
A ritual for healing begins within the healing court, waking even the rocks and bodiless voices that sound as if coming from a great distance, but heard only by practiced ears. All souls who haunt this place call out with one heart, whether they were victim or victimizer and their plea echoes within the heart breaths taken by these strangers. The ritual grows with intensity and I shall lend my powerful light to aid in sending it outward to any who are despairing across the entire world.
Nekhebet, the Vulture Goddess, spreads her great iridescent black wings to fly to the place where Anubis said to go. The Neteru answered the call of these blessed strangers to aid the healing in whatever form or at whatever level available as each of the celebrants beseeched of them. Waves of healing energy danced upward then along my strong, radiating arms, healing vibrations raised with tentative voices that grow braver and stronger with the steps of a spiral dance connecting each from heart to heart to heart.
Aiwa, it was finished! The blood has dried, vanishing into golden sand once more. The dark spirits become wisps of silver mist, dissipating in noonday heat. The clouds of darkness thickened by layers of hate, greed and pain shed their tears, which evaporate before they can soak back into the soil. Terrorist souls, reincarnated from the time of hate and murder of a Queen’s empire, release their hate and turn away. The chains holding the souls of anger and revenge break as well as those entrapping the innocent who perished in the cruelest of ways without peace for the suddenness of their death. Ma ’at has returned to this place and Karma finished from ancient eras as well as for this time.
As the old burden lifts, she takes in a full deep heart breath releasing and cleansing the fear brought full-circle. She looks at the reconstructed temple, which is no longer a jumble of scattered chunks of stone like pieces from a mad man’s giant jigsaw puzzle as she first saw it over twenty Earth years ago. Thus, she completed the missing piece from her own shamanic work and I am pleased. This time she did not stubbornly refuse to come here.
Therefore, Ra mounted his great golden solar boat, sailed across the sky, happy in the knowing that on this day his powerful flames were used wisely, destroying in the way that powerful healing must often do.
