Showing posts with label Ra. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Ra. Show all posts

Monday, October 28, 2019

Cat versus Chaos in the Mind of Egypt



An image from collective imagination of ancient Egypt offers a version of the cosmic battle between chaos and order that I find endlessly intriguing. The serpent is Apep (the Greek version is Apophis) and he personifies the forces of chaos that constantly threaten to overthrow humanity and the gods themselves.
    The giant cat is a form of Ra, cutting Apep to pieces with a knife in a battle around the Tree of Life. The long ears on this cat make it understandable that many viewers first thought was "rabbit". In fact the cat is a giant version of the long-eared Egyptian wild cat, Felis libyca Bubastis, which was the genus mummified by Egyptians.
    The Tree of Life here is the persea, a small evergreen whose yellow fruit symbolized the heart of Horus. The phoenix is reborn from the ashes of the persea.
    "I am the Cat which fought near the persea tree," Ra declares in the Book of Ani, which comments that Ra is also known as Mau, the Egyptian word for cat. I dreamed that a statue of a cat named Mau came alive and presented an atef crown.


    The knife resembles a feather, which some people saw in the image. That may have been intentional in the ancient iconography, since Apep, as a destroyer of civilization, is eternally opposed to Ma'at (Truth) whose symbols is a feather.
    The battle between Truth and Lies, Chaos and Civilization, is never over in the Egyptian mind. Every night Apep attacks the barque of Ra. Apep has been hacked to pieces and thrown into the abyss again and again, but he returns. Egyptians made wax images of Apep and mutilated and destroyed them in multi-stage rituals to help Ra in the cosmic battle.
     Some say that Apep is a dark shadow of Ra himself, an archaic form that the great god shed as he evolved. Much to dream on here, and perhaps much to illuminate our current complaints, and vice versa.

The Egyptian image is from the the papyrus of Hunifer in the British museum. The drawing of Mau is from my dream journal.

Monday, August 15, 2016

Egyptian Gates to the Otherworld


What can we learn from ancient Egypt about soul travel and viable gates to the Otherworld? Among the dense menagerie of Egyptian deities and practices evolved over 3,000 years, so far as we can fathom them through scholarship and far memory, five distinctive themes emerge:

1.          1.  Shapeshifting is a preferred model for soul travel

The gods assume the forms of birds or animals. Humans, in assuming the god forms, take the shames of the same birds and animals. Shapeshifting is one of the shortest passages through the terrors of the Underworld to the heavens of the blessed. In facing down his adversaries, the journeying soul may assume successive forms including those of his most terrifying challengers, such as the crocodile god Sobek.
    This type of shapeshifting is not reserved for the deceased. It is a model for the living of how to journey most effectively in the subtle body. There is a clear continuum here with shamanic practice. Just as in Egypt the gods show themselves as birds or animals, the animal powers – in shamanic cultures – are not confined to animal forms but may display themselves as humans or gods.

  1. Feeding and Preserving the Energy Double
The Egyptian cult of the Ka was an incredibly elaborate magical industry devoted to escaping the “second death” and ensuring the survival of the dream body or astral double close to the realms of the living. It is clearly based on the recognition that different aspects of soul and spirit go to different places after physical death. The Ka has its own priests, responsible for its care and feeding. In the event of their death or dereliction, the Ka may be sustained by objects or images placed in the tomb that supply magical food and support. The Ka interacts with the living. It can travel from its house – the sarcophagus or a separate house or statue inside the tomb – through special doors, just as it sees through special eyes. It may influence the living for good or bad. It may be the source of prophetic dreams. It may stand guard over tomb and their treasures, as in the magical tale of Khaemewas and the Book of Thoth.

  1. Testing Alternate Routes to the Neterworlds
The Egyptians studied and tested various itineraries for traveling to heavens, star worlds and neterworlds. In several thousands of years of evolution, magic and experiment, they developed a rich geography of the afterlife, peopled by a host of gods and demons who set trials and obstacles in the path of the journeyer.
    The Book of Gates depicts the departed soul having to confront a series of terrifying gatekeepers who may all be personifications of the Great Goddess. In other funerary texts, the pilgrim soul has to evade the nets of an implacable Soultaker, brave up to the attacks of a series of monstrous beasts in a passage through utter darkness, or survive a dramatic life review in the hall of judgment where the heart is weighed against the feather of Ma’at, the divine embodiment of natural law. Go out with a heavy heart, and you are consigned to the ravening monster Ammit.
    The Egyptians believed that it helped to cast off from this earth with a good route map, and to know the names of those you will meet. A well-equipped traveler took a map and recognition codes with him into his grave.

  1. Knowing the Names
Knowing the names of the entities you’ll meet along the way was one of the best ways to prepare for these journeys. Egypt was a land of magicians, and the hekau (magic words) were thought to bring things into manifestation; Heka, the god who personified Magic, rides with Ra in the solar barque along with Sia (Intelligence). Knowing the secret names of the neteru and how to vibrate the hidden vowels was one of the highest magical arts. There is a thriller about hhow Isis gleaned the secret name of Ra by catching his spittle to make a scorpion that stung him. Because it was made from his own spit, it had the power to kill; Isis promised a cure at the price of learning his secret name. Now she can wield his power. On the roads of the neterworlds, the journeyer assumes the powers of his challengers – and sometimes their forms – by speaking their names.

  1. Way of the Heart
It is easy to get lost in the thickets of exotic names and directions, in which many pantheons and rescensions over millennia meet and merge and morph, in cohabitation with earth spirits and perhaps star travelers. Let’s notice that the Egyptian craft of death is also a plan for larger life, at home in multiple worlds from the Duat to the Akhet. Of special interest are the Way of Ra and the Way of Osiris (they merge in mystery texts and vignettes of Osiris transforming into Ra, or birthing him from within his mummified corpse). The Way of Ra is the story of the 12 Hours in the funerary texts, in which we see the Boat of Ra go through many levels of the Underworld and survive many challenges before it is reborn. It may also open into the Way of the Sun Behind the Sun, the opening of a stargate that may lead to the intelligences of the Sirius star system>
    The Way of Osiris requires the experience of death and rebirth within a Mystery or shamanic initiation. It becomes enfolded into the ethical teachings implicit in the scenes of the Weighing of the Heart and the 42 assessors.
    Let’s observe that throughout it is the heart that provides the operating center and purpose for the journeys. While the brain is discarded, the heart remains in the chest, sometimes protected by a heart scarab of carnelian.
    Approaching the place of inquisition and judgment, the traveler is reminded to call on his heart – the Ka of his heart – to speak and act for him.



My heart, my mother
My heart, my mother
My heart of my becoming


Photo: Hathor in the Louvre by RM

Friday, September 6, 2013

Mythic trouble on the Boat of Ra





En route to Sao Paulo

"Please close your window shade, sir. The sun will be too bright."
    "But I want to see the rising of the sun. It's glorious."
    "We can't let the sun rise yet."
    I feel a shiver of recognition. This is what happens, again and again, to Ra on his long journey through the Netherworld. Again and again, doors are closed against the rising of the sun, and monsters gather to oppose the renewal of spirit.
    I glance at the dozing and drooling passengers around me in the darkened cabin of the airplane, and decide to comply with the flight attendant's request. But when he has gone down the aisle, I reopen my shade just a chink, so as not to miss altogether the return of the sun's light.
    And I murmur under my breath the syllables from an old life, in another land, that evoke the unmanifest power of creation and its manifestation in the disk of the sun.
    Atum-Ra
    Atum-Ra


This vignette is from my long journey to Brazil last week. It took me 48 hours to get to Florianopolis from my local airport. This trip involved three complete changes of flight itineraries, multiple security screenings, an unexpected night in an airport motel worthy of "American Psycho" and three days - after my arrival - without my suitcase.
    I felt I had gone through many of the passages and ordeals of the Egyptian journey through the Netherworld depicted in funerary texts like the Book of Gates and the Amduat (Book of the Hidden Chamber).
    I recognized that I may have asked for mythic trouble in this realm, since at the start of last week, I returned to close study of those ancient Egyptian travelogues. This inspired me to add a few pages to my new book on 
my "far memories" of Egyptian lives and group shamanic journeys I have led on an Egyptian time road to the stars. I completed and delivered the book a few hours before boarding my first plane.

My life has a mythic edge, which means I am always prone to getting into some mythic trouble. This is an old, old pattern. Surface events move in tandem with the deep undercurrents of the mythic realm. Maybe all of us will come more awake and alive in the multiverse if we pay attention to what myth is playing out, or seeking to irrupt, into our current lives.
    The night my suitcase finally caught up with me at a hotel on a wild Atlantic beach on Santa Catarina island, I noticed, for the first time, the image above the door to the hotel reception.


I discussed all of this with a charming Brazilian couple at an Azorean fish restaurant in Ribeirão da Ilha on a night of driving rain. I had not met the husband before. I was struck by his T-shirt, which had the image of the frame of a wooden horse and the words: "Troia: An Anatolian City." He told me his mother had brought it back from a visit to the ancient site of Troy last year. I will be in Anatolia, near the ancient site of Troy, at the end of this month. Sometimes the mythic forces at play behind the curtain of our ordinary perception reach through and hold up a storyboard. 



Saturday, March 31, 2012

Winged soul in the sky

Ba amulet in the Brooklyn Museum
I've been a speaker at a conference attended by a group of dealers in art and antique jewelry. I was impressed by the beauty of jeweled belts that two of them have in their stock; they tell me the best of these come from Jordan.
    Now I am outside. The world around me is shimmering. I marvel as the landscape becomes a field of crimson, streaming like silk. High above, to the left, I see a golden winged figure. Is it a golden bee, or a hummingbird?
    Ba.
    Clear as a bell, the one syllable is spoken in a beautiful feminine voice.
    I remember Egypt, and how the ba soul, seen as a human-headed bird, takes flight from the heart. The gods of Egypt, the neteru, have ba souls too. The sun-god Ra, as I recall, has seven and they take many forms. The benu bird the Greeks called the phoenix is a ba of Ra.
    I rise before the sun, thinking of the sun god, because of that vibrant field of red, and that glorious golden winged soul.

- from last night's dreaming