I still have the piece of pounamu that she and her group blessed in the lake in a portal ceremony. In fact, I wore it every day right up until my departure for New Zealand.
(Sometimes, like the One Ring, I wonder if it wanted to go home. So the legend of pounamu goes in some places.)
In fact, I was wearing it at work one day in Auckland and one of my pakeha colleagues asked who I thought I was. Jokingly… but also… not really.
Except, according to the Rune Soup Law of Trespassing, I’m golden. The pounamu was directly purchased from members of the iwi from whose land it was mined from, it was blessed in a respectful ceremony of the land and water. I all-but married into the family responsible for the first Maori/English picture dictionary, I still vote in New Zealand elections.
Yes, there is a right way and a wrong way to do these things, and I still consider my pounamu to be a cornerstone of my personal taonga. (I’d say I would rescue it from a house fire but it would sail undamaged through such a scenario so I wouldn’t. The stuff is amazing.)
Plus, you would struggle to find a corner of the empire so shot-through with the indigenous cultures and attitudes as New Zealand, as exemplified in this song about migration from a few years ago. My ‘pantheism with sparkles’ is informed by the ‘respectful pakeha’ Aotearoan concepts I learned and experienced there. Hence, for instance, why I call London my Turangawaewae.
Back to mother on the farm. Being an organic farm, there were also wwoofers staying with the meditation group. Each morning, before heading off for farm work, they would do a Four Winds alignment and card spread based on Barry Brailsford’s Wisdom of The Four Winds. MMTP, knowing good tech when she sees it, picked up a few copies. Here’s mine:
It appeals to me more than I can describe that wwoofers do things like this. While we may look at the nazi/paedophile/skepdick scientism that riddles the worldview of the elite and mainstream media, it’s pleasing to know there are other currents running through other groups on the planet… and the active pulling through of a pantheistic magical practice into the next generation of organic farmers is one such current that pleases me.
Whilst the fact that the system is card-based may have you thinking The Wisdom of The Four Winds is an example of cartomancy, it’s best considered closer to the I Ching… A system of geomancy codified around the signs presented to us from the natural world. It doesn’t have any of the creepiness associated with, say, the Fatima Oracle.
New Zealand may be the latest postal address for Gandalf, but what a lot of people don’t know is that it also has its own Obi-Wan Kenobi in the figure of Barry Brailsford, creator of The Wisdom of The Four Winds. He’s this wonderful, odd man living on the west coast of the South Island, with an academic background and a body of mystical/fantasy fiction to do with the supposedly apocryphal ‘lost’ iwi of Waitaha. But in a story reminiscent of Egypt under Zahi Hawass, the Waitaha are only ‘mythical’ because they arrived ‘too early’ for current models of Polynesian Expansion.
But listen to Brailsford’s story of how members of Waitaha sought him out after reading some of his published academic work about them so that they could transmit some of their songs and their stories to him. The whole thing is worth watching, but the part in question is the first fourteen or so minutes. I am particularly interested in how this reaching out was preceded by a stellar alignment that foretold that the time to do so was now.
Oh yeah. The Waitaha sailed to Aotearoa from Easter Island. Did I not mention that? A ‘mythical’ tribe of astronomers and megalith builders in the Pacific that came (most recently) from Easter Island? Whilst it is five thousand years too late to be the direct survivors of the sinking of Sundaland, they are certainly a critical indication that some kind of antediluvian tech survived the end of the last ice age. (There was also a flurry of megalithic activity right across the Pacific in the first millenium AD that indicates some kind of weird shit was going on.)
Here’s a wavy description of the origin of The Wisdom of The Four Winds that comes from its delightful companion book:
Clearly, there is some properly mythic meaning to the origin story of Waitaha, in that it is designed to connect it to a specific wisdom current here on earth. But, don’t forget, every genetic analysis of the peoples of the Pacific throws up weirder and weirder results. When Europeans arrived in the Solomons, they’d see brown kids with blonde hair… or red hair and freckles. And as we know, there are some extremely ancient Southeast Asian gene markers found in the tribes of the Andes.
And the Temple of The Four Winds existed very much into living memory. So the underlying story shouldn’t be taken off the table.
But that’s also the least of the lessons of the lizard stargate. Here’s the wisdom of the Waitaha song of the tuatara, as interpreted via Barry Brailsford:
I am Tuatara.
I guide you through the star realms
And the spheres of ancient lore
To open doors beyond sight
That releases the mind to soar.
I guard wondrous spirit trails
Seen clearly through the third eye
I walk the path of old truth
Offered in the rainbow sky
I stand amidst the storm’s rage
To hear you cry for courage
And show the lost and the lonely
The sky trail that leads to home.
I am the Star Gate.
New Zealand’s geological history is something of an epic. Originally part of Gondwanaland, it broke off from what is now Australia and headed out to sea, presumably with some of Gondwanaland’s megafauna on board. Then it sank. But, like, not very deep. Maybe only twenty or so feet. Then tectonic activity pushed it back up above sea level and created the mountainous spine the islands have today.
It’s also why New Zealand is devoid of large land animals and became known as the ‘islands of birds’. Because only birds could colonise it. Once there, they quickly dispensed with the redundant power of flight and, in some cases, became preposterously large. (And, unfortunately for them once the Maori arrived, quite delicious.)
The only antediluvian land animal to somehow survive New Zealand’s sinking was the tuatara. So it is literally a survivor from a sunken land. It has also remained more or less unchanged for 200 million years, also making it vastly ancient. It still has a third eye on the top of its head -whereas yours was absorbed into your puny chimp brain. It is weird.
And I really wanted to see it. So we put it on the list for one of our visits to my partner’s hometown of Wellington -one of my favourite places on earth:
This was seven or eight years ago, when their numbers in the Karori Wildlife Sanctuary were much lower. The guides suggested we come back for a night tour as they’re largely nocturnal but nevertheless… there they were. Basking and staring back at us with their various eyes. They were wonderful! And wise. Wise like your ice age grandfather. Thinking about it, that’s exactly the kind of energy they transmit.
Tuatara’s place in various Maori cosmologies is also extremely telling. Shades of the Loa, here, but in one story, when the creatures of the earth were allying with various gods and spirits, Tuatara refused to ally with anyone. Thus it remained free to move between all the realms at will, like a naturally occurring, transdimensional psychopomp.
Tuatara are considered kaitiaki (‘guardians’) of sacred knowledge, particularly that which pertains to the stars.
From an extremely helpful New Zealand government website:
Ngarara is the Maori name for reptiles – including tuatara, lizards, and the giant reptiles of Maori tradition.
Maori call lizards (skinks and geckos) mokomoko. The kawekaweau, now extinct, was the world’s largest gecko. It was described as ‘about two feet [60 centimetres] long, and as thick as a man’s wrist; colour brown, striped longitudinally with dull red’.
Maori also believed in giant reptiles, although no scientific evidence of them has been found. Simply called ngarara, they were a type of taniwha and looked like lizards or tuatara.
Giant, interdimensional lizards from space with an ambivalent attitude to mankind and an opaque purpose. Do you want to call David Icke or shall I? It gets better:
Some tribes have other traditions that explain the origins of reptiles. In one tradition, reptiles originated from Peketua (the son of the earth mother, Papatuanuku, and the sky father, Ranginui). He made an egg from clay, and took it to Tane, god of the forest, who said, ‘Me whakaira tangata’ (give it life). This egg then produced the first tuatara.
In some stories, lizards originate from the death of a ngarara – a hideous giant reptile. The reptilian monster Te Ngarara Huarau was a terrifying giant reptile that burned to death. Its scales escaped and turned into lizards.
Another ngarara, Te Whakaruaki, forcibly took a woman as his bride. Her family trapped and burnt him inside a house. As he was dying, his tail broke off and escaped, becoming the father of the mokopapa (Pacific gecko). It is said that since then, lizards have shed their tails when they are in danger.
Gecko, huh? You don’t say? What you can see here is a very South Pacific version of, among other things, the Sumerian cosmology that tells the story of mankind’s first civilising influence. We’ll get onto that, but I want to finish up with one final Tuatara story, because it concerns something very dear to me:
In another tradition, a tuatara called Ngarara argued with his younger brother Mango (shark) over whether to live in the sea or on land. Ngarara chose the land, while Mango remained in the sea. Just as Ngarara moved onto the shore, Mango swam up and asked him to return to the sea.
Ngarara cursed his brother: ‘Stay in the sea to be served on a dish of cooked food for man to eat.’ Mango replied, ‘Go ashore and be smoked out of your hole with burning fern leaves.’
Ngarara replied, ‘Indeed, I will go on ashore, away unto the dry land, where I shall be looked upon as the personification of Tu [the war god], with my spines and ridgy crest, causing fear and affright, so that all will get out of my way, hurrah!’
The brothers’ curses came to pass. Maori often ate dried shark as a relish with kumara (sweet potato) or potato, and caught reptiles by lighting a fire at the entrance of their hole.
Encoded in this story is the awareness that the tuatara lived through an aquatic period and then returned to the land. Shark is his younger brother and I note in passing that both animals have remained largely unchanged for the same 200 million year period. Tuatara, inevitably, is slightly older at 220 million.
Matariki is the Maori name for the Pleiades constellation (festival coming up June 10th). They are believed to be either a mother and six daughters or seven sisters… which naturally puts us in mind of their depiction in the Classical World.
In many ways, this is a Dangerous Road for recent researchers. With his thesis that the Dogon were visited by Sirians, it certainly tripped up Robert Temple in his seventies classic, The Sirius Mystery. Well, I say ‘tripped up’… it may have been something much weirder. You see, Robert Temple was the secretary for Arthur Young, attendee of the séance that changed America, a fervent believer in The Nine and a scion of the shadow military elite.
In 1965, Arthur Young gave Robert Temple a French article on the secret star lore of the Dogon, an article written by two French anthropologists Marcel Griaule and Germaine Dieterlen. In 1966, Temple – then aged 21 – became Secretary of Young’s Foundation for the Study of Consciousness. In 1967, Temple began work on the thesis that became The Sirius Mystery. As Picknett and Prince have been able to show, Temple’s arguments are often based on erroneous readings of encyclopædia entries and misrepresentations of ancient Egyptian mythology. They conclude that Temple was very keen to please his mentor, who believed in extraterrestrial beings from Sirius.
For what it’s worth, I don’t think the story of contamination or deliberate lying on the part of early-twentieth century French anthropologists is sufficient for explaining the Dogon’s alleged star knowledge. They did have ‘star teachers’, they were semi-aquatic civilisers. And you end up in a very ‘looking glass’ place where you realise the fingerprints of The Nine indicate that
- There is very probably something here.
- Whatever that thing is, it is obscured by a non-physical agenda.
Clearly some entangling went on. The evidence for this is certainly stronger than it is for the Higgs-Boson. (As both Dean Radin and Russell Targ point out, the evidence for psi is overwhelmingly stronger than it is for the Higgs-Boson. But then, only one of those things actually exists.)
In a similar, post-entangled way, how did the Maori know that Tuatara was the oldest thing on land, and literally came from the sea in that it’s the only terrestrial creature to have survived the sinking of Aotearoa? And how, like so many other ancient people, did they associate a semi-aquatic creature with a gate to and knowledge of the stars?
Not that it needs further dismantling because it is objectively wrong, but the story of Tuatara unravels the physical AAT. The fact that ‘civilising space lizards’ are spread across thousands of years contraindicates early physical contact with mankind but reinforces the possibility that these are cultural expressions of psychic contact with the same beings throughout thousands of years.
As repeatedly emphasised, an understanding of history and humanity’s place in the universe is insufficient without recourse to the non-physical in some form.
The error from the materialist paradigm is to pretend the non-physical simply isn’t there:
Consider the truly insidious ways that the various bars of our archonic jail cell neatly interlock: Food, pharma, economics, war, surveillance, entertainment. An entire orchestra of horrors that keeps us fat and poor and sad and alone and sick and scared scared scared.
The pieces so precisely fit to such a terrifying extent that if you dismiss the non-physical component you are left with the functionally impossible belief in a centuries-spanning, tiny elite with such elaborate pie fingers that they somehow physically connect subliminal messages in reality shows to the selection of test subjects in blind pharma trials to petrochemical agents provocateurs in the Arab Spring.
The error from practically all non-materialist paradigms is the presumption of narrative: that you have somehow worked out what’s going on and why these beings are interacting/entangling with us. We are in a mind war, for sure. But, at the moment, our intel is really, really bad. (Ask me about drone servitors.)
Consider this comment from a 1977 press conference given by Philip K. Dick:
“We are living in a computer programmed reality and the only clue we have to it is when some variable is changed and some alteration in our reality occurs….”
PKD asserts that, to his knowledge, he is the first person to have this experiential understanding of this computer simulation. He isn’t. He may well be the first person to publicly use those precise terms, but ‘technological’ is a modern rendering of ‘artificial’. As is ‘simulation’ or ‘hologram’. But, for instance, as Vallée points out, the description Ezekiel employs in recounting his vision represents the cutting edge of technology in Bronze Age Palestine… chariots, interlocking wheels and ploughs.
In each of these examples, they mean ‘built’.
But built by whom and for what purpose remains opaque. This may indeed be a permanent condition of physical reality… That certain ideas can’t exist out in the ‘open air’ for very long without oxydising or decaying like cut avocado. Hence the need for symbolic or proxy means of communication. Gnostic realisation may live exclusively inside the mythic because exposing it to oxygen triggers immediate isotopic decay. (I begin to suspect that symbolic communication is the only ‘real’ mode. What else is mathematics?)
The lesson in all of this?
If you’re going into space, be sure to pick the right lizard. Buy kiwi made every time.