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By Cal Garrison
Weird things have been happening to me lately. One of my more recent mind blows came in the form of an old boyfriend, a guy I fell in love with back in 1973, showing up to remind me that life is definitely one of those places where absolutely everything comes back around. It was like the Karma police had kept him on ice for thirty-eight years and were just now thawing him out so I could have one last chance to defrost a few things from my past.
Talking to him on the phone, part of me was totally OK with it all; the rest of me was busy reading way too much into things and trying to remember who I was when I knew him. The hippie girl who had prompted him to say "Someday she's going to be mine" was now a sixty-three-year-old crone. When he reminded me of what came out of his mouth on the day that he saw me for the first time, all I could say in return was; "You should have been more specific about what you meant by 'someday' — it's been a long fucking time".
After we hung up, I got to thinking. Flashing back to the old days, all of a sudden there I was, opening a drawer full of memories that had been carefully hidden in the 'let's pretend it never happened' bin. Beyond the story, and the circumstances that required me to even have a file for it, inside that compartment I found traces of myself and millions of questions that had yet to be answered patiently waiting to be exhumed after close to four decades.
If the girl who still held faith in the power of love took half of the experience and thought it might turn into a better-late-than-never, twin-flame reunion, the crone who held the other end of the stick was old enough to know better. Pickled by memories that made falling in love feel like more trouble than it was worth, the upshot of the whole thing had less to do with the man and the prospect of a "Second Spring" than it did with the idea that the return of the lost boyfriend gave Cal a chance to dip into her soul and confront a few things.
Around the time the White Knight reappeared, my friend Manon, a Glastonbury Hedgewitch and keeper of the Old Ways, travelled all the way from Amsterdam to Sedona to talk to me about making a pilgrimage to Avalon. Here I was exploring the issues that had turned my love life into such a sad and futile affair, when out of the blue my long-lost, "Burned at the stake" soul sister pops in with a plan to take off on a trip to the place where the belief in true love and the mysteries of the heart are etched in the grid lines and held in the Grail Myths that permeate the legend of the Glastonbury Tor. How could I say no to this? For someone who started drawing detailed sketches of knights, and castles, and wizards, and ladies of the lake when she was seven years old, and who has never been able to kick her addiction to magic, or dissolve her connection to the Old Ways, or account for her fascination with the only place on the planet she has always wanted to go to, it was a long awaited dream come true.
After a week of rhapsodizing over the thought that I would be waltzing right into a fairy tale, all of a sudden the Lady of Shalott started showing up in my dreams. If you know anything about the Arthur Legends you know about the Lady of Shalott. The poster-girl for everything from lost love to the total and complete loss of self, she is the gal who was cursed to gaze out upon her life through a mirror — and doomed to die if she ever once dared to cast her eye on the real thing. On the day that Sir Lancelot happened to pass by her window, she turned her head to look and found out the hard way that love and truth have the power to transform us, irrevocably.
Isn't it great how life always finds a way to get the message across? Between her tragic expression and the fact that she kept showing up with a pail of blood in one hand and a pile of dirty laundry in the other, after a few nights with the Lady of Shalott it didn't take much to figure out that this trip to fairy land would, much like the prospect of the 'better late than never boyfriend', stir up tons of old stuff. Once I got real enough to ask myself if I was ready to deal with it, I got the feeling that something out of this world was bound to happen over there.
What form will it take; who knows? I am in no doubt that there will be a whole other dimension to the experience. At this point the thought of being in a place where the cellular memory remembers and recognizes everything sounds like a good way to come to terms with whatever's left to process. Beyond my own stuff, there are a million other things that seem to be pulling me to go to Avalon — and it is the nature of that business that excites me more than anything.
What follows comes from my own mythology. By 'mythology' I mean, the truths that have been wrought out of my personal experience and through my private research into the purpose and meaning of life. I don't expect anyone to go along with my philosophy because everyone has their point of view. Mine may have a few screws loose but it belongs to me, and at the moment, as farfetched as it might sound to anyone else, all I can honestly share with you is what I believe to be true.
It is known that prior to his mission as the Christ, Jesus travelled to the Isle of Avalon with Joseph of Arimathea. The story goes that Joseph was a merchant whose commercial interests extended far and wide and who engaged in commerce with the northern tribes. But Joseph was as renowned for his spiritual abilities as he was for his business interests; and the other side of the story tells us that he and Jesus sailed to Glastonbury for reasons that had to do with the Earth Grid and with the performance of rites that would root the Christian traditions firmly in British soil.
By the time King Arthur came to power, the being upon whom the Druids bestowed the title of 'The Merlin', (A title that in the Druidic traditions is akin to what the Pope would be for the Catholics, or what the Dalai Lama would be to the Buddhists) was an Ascended Master who had been installed in that position, at that time, for a very specific purpose. Up until that point in the spiral of human evolution, the spiritual focus had been directly connected to what are commonly known as "The Old Ways", AKA, the worship of the female and the belief that the pathway to the divine is inside the Earth.
Because of things that were set in motion during the time that Jesus and Joseph spent in Glastonbury, it was foreordained that the "Arthurian Merlin" would, in addition to his regular duties as the Druidic High Priest, use his Ascended wisdom to consecrate the Goddess traditions, preserve them for future use, and bury them safely in the heart of the earth on what was then the Island of Avalon. If we fault the Christian power possessors for all the blood that was shed in the course of trying to turn human belief away from the Goddess, what we never knew is that underneath it all the female traditions HAD to be put to rest — and for good reason — because the time had come for humanity to find out what it meant to connect with the Father in Heaven, otherwise known as the Male aspect of God.
If in ascending to power the masculine force succeeded in annihilating the every aspect of the female, for the next fifteen-hundred years humanity lost any recollection of what the world was like when God was a woman. What we were never told and what was never clearly stated, is that there would come a day when the Heavenly Father and the Divine Mother would reunite. In the great cycle of time that regulates the course of earthly events we have finally spiraled around to the point where the return to unity consciousness demands the presence of the female. The Goddess is back - and I have a feeling that there is a direct line to her heart, somewhere on or near the Island of Avalon.
Anyone whose soul is connected to the Old Ways feels a longing to go back to the British Isles. In my own case, whatever it is that roots me in the Celtic traditions, and the Merlin tales, and the Grail legends, and the Magdalene myths, I have only had dreams and images to go by up until now; not once in this life time have my feet touched down in England, or Scotland, or Ireland, or Wales, or been anywhere near Scandinavia. All I can tell you is this; my cellular memory is full of scenery from the time when the Ascension Mysteries were taught to initiates by the Ascended Master who came to reckon with the Goddess. If it's true that Merlin put her secrets to rest in the earth that lies beneath the Tor, as she rises up from the ground, I can't think of any place I'd rather be.
How many miles to Avalon? It feels like it's taken forever to finally get it together to get up and go. But we're on our way, and whatever's left of the journey, something in my heart tells me it can't be too much further from here. If you'd like to be part of this adventure we invite you to get in touch with us at:
Website: www.manontromp.com/Manon_Tromp:English
Link to program on website: www.manontromp.com/Program
Cal Garrison
May 21, 2011
Sedona, Arizona
About Cal Garrison
Cal Garrison is a practicing astrologer with 40 years of experience. At present she goes between casting horoscopes, writing books, and working as the personal assistant to Drunvalo and Claudette Melchizedek. Editor in Chief at Drunvalo's online magazine, 'The Spirit of Ma'at', Cal is also a syndicated columnist for the Associated Press. An author with five books to her credit, and another one on the way, Ms. Garrison is well known for her affiliation with the late Slim Spurling. Out of love for her mentor she continues to support his research with her dowsing, through her articles, and as the spokesperson for Slim's tools at all of Drunvalo's workshops. A single mother with three grown daughters, Cal lives happily in the Red Rocks of Sedona, Arizona. She can be reached at: cal.garrison@gmail.com
Latest articles by Cal Garrison in Spirit of Maat:
April, 2012:
Life in the Imaginal Realm
March, 2012:
WHO WROTE THE BOOK OF LOVE?
February, 2012:
HEARTS AND FLOWERS
December, 2011:
THE SEDONA CRYSTAL SKULL CEREMONY: True Confessions
November, 2011:
NEPTUNE, PISCES AND THE POST 2012 PARADIGM - Chapter Fourteen from "The Astrology of 2012 and Beyond"
October, 2011:
THE MAYAN ELDERS, THE THIRTEEN CRYSTAL SKULLS, AND THE SIGNIFICANCE OF THEIR UPCOMING CEREMONIAL PILGRIMAGE ACROSS THE UNITED STATES
October, 2011:
IF WE'RE STILL HERE, ARE WE THERE YET?
September, 2011:
Chicken Little's Comet-Ose Revelations
June, 2011:
How many miles to Avalon?
April, 2011:
TRUTH AND LIES
July, 2010:
Still Crazy After All These Years?
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