Tag Archives: soul

precipice of power

I am perched upon a precipice of power
Am peering patiently into this passing hour
The tocking time that tics up my spine
Staff of sovereignty claiming Heart and mind
Of the fluid and fluctuating seams I was born
Hermes psychopomp between the worlds
I straddle horizons between wake and dream
Am flowing in glowing neural streams
The initiation of Jestation in Times domain
Quicksilver deliverer who delves into Pain
Flow inTense Knowing inSense Saturation
I humbly accept growing adept in Saturns Fixation
Am making my Vow to die in Battle, reborn
The oath of Thoth, from the womb Torn
Messenger who travels thru Linguistic threads
Of synaptic rapture as bliss of bodies embed
Mind and Time and Space and Rhyme
I spin the serpent staffs in waves of Sine
Am oozing thru this glowing glue of fluid truth
The ether twists of Knowing age and youth
Trickster Playing games with pure perception
Who pries open I~s asleep to deception
Sews and grows the stitches and seams
The flowing roads to the richest of dreams
Patterns the passions and purpose and pain
Into Mattered Moments moving thru Veins
Faces and games and containers for rain
And mysteries magic sacred and profane
Names and numbers for all but the One
I am the messenger who delivers the Sun
Am the swift footed father of playful Pan
The temptation of sensation of magic Man
Initiate to mind as it moves thru Ether
Who loosens the noose of Io~s tight tether
Twists the fists with his serpent staves
Matter in patterns of particle and wave
Into lifetimes and light rhymes and bold
Spaces for grace and beauty to unfold
To honor the throne as Jester to the king
Play is the way and light is the plaything
The maze is a stage for unraveling dazed
Neural pathways entwined in minds haze
Codes imploding from outmoded games
Awakening hearts shaken from shame
Within this shared cocreative dance
As the quake of the year breaks the trance
Lunar reflection, the Mage in the mirror
Nodes of infection engage the terror
Square and circle , point and line
The marriage of heaven and hell in time
Spin the wheel and find the center
Of Beings great Beauty, now Enter
Plural passions are all just passing
Roads of fashioned masks of Essence
That make you forget your Eternal Flame
Begin This Moment and ReMember your name
And even the Time of unveiling will Be
End and Beginning, infinitely Free
In joyful prelude to a new swim in the See
Twisting Tendrils of trickster Hermes
Synods of souls Alive in the Flesh
Again and again our minds enmeshed
And I am the psychopomp of pain and play
Again I Am, Jester Gestating the New Day.

Charleen Johnston
12-31-20

First word in each line makes a fractal of my rhyme

MindSight is 2020, Farewell Waker of Beauty

The El & the Mag

Old Art by me

🦂At This Very Moment In Time Space … we are on a Precipice…. The fusion of… distorted versions of Organic/Inorganic ways of Being in this Wor(L)d..

…in the Beginning was the Word…

And the word was With God

……………………………………………………………………(El)

And the Word Was God

And the Spell(inG) was Cast

Over the Mass and Crowds in Vast

PrisMs as the EL⚡️Mag Waters Rise Fast

Within the DeoxyRib.E Oh Defrag the hard.drive

And Fasten your Seatbelts

The Dark Man Dwells

In the Space

We

Circle

Time

(&Time Again)

If you can see the Puer and Senex in the Language of these Dreamings

You are walking the road of deCoding the Anguished tangles of the Seaming Seeds

The El and the Mag(dalene)(netic)(ician)(

Dance dance dance

Break the trance

Wake the snake

That shakes and quakes

Within Matter &

CircumStance

CLJ 11-4-21

Hypnagogic BleedThroughs

As I woke in the middle of the night, tangled in hypnagogic bleed-throughs as Previous Me~s in Cyclic read-throughs…. I came back over and over again to myself being Drawn-and-Quartered…. As well as ‘DisMembered’ ….and variations of such….As the crowd looked on. Literally Pulled Apart. I’ve been doing intense Somatic Trauma Work lately ( again) as my inner Blueprint is pushed by the transiting Planetary Gods into Letting Go… Letting Go of the Stories deep within my Cell.ves that keep my body and mind in a State of PulledApartNess. Stuck in the Kinetic Underworld where I’ve locked away Memories so disIntegrating for so many lifetimes and fractal LandMines… that this Entire Incarnations Intention is bound up with Putting MySelfs Back ToGather aGain.
As I tossed and turned unable to fall back into Dream, my mind kept ruminating in my wrists, and the pain, of all my joints and connective tissue, a lifelong issue of Hypermobility and mutation of CollagenCreating which means all my joints sublux constantly, slip in and out, trying to DrawAndQuarter me over and over again til I finally look deeply enough to ConnectTheIssues of these Fascial Tissues and Put mySelfs Back ( literally) together again
My flexibility a gift and a curse… my joints held together by pure force of Muscular Will… which equates to constant muscular tension and alignment issues….when I stop doing the bodywork I need to do, every day, to keep myself Flowing and functional…. I pay. The Deep Trauma Memories stored inSide, are now asking to fully reLease.
And bleed throughs of All kinds of Tangled Lives and Times are Arising.
Deep, Intense Self Trigger Point work is my Grace…. Going into the pain and buried strains…. Seeking it out, and pressuring with pulsation to Let Go. It’s a religious experience for me, sometimes 5 hours at a time of Trance Trigger Descent, to complete the whole body, entering hallways and mazes of Soul, the Underworld where Fragments of My Being are Held….
All these things passing thru me in the middle of the night, and I realize I need to look at my last nodal cycle transit… 19 years ago… when Ketu last passed over my Sun/Uranus(trauma) conjunction in the first house( body) ….and I suddenly jump up, and go to my journals. So many transits affecting me in this very moment, all
Related to a LettingGo of some serious Stuff.

I grab a journal somewhat at random.

It’s the exact time period I was thinking about. Haven’t looked through it in a long time. Opened it up, and the first page Felt like a message I coded to myself years ago, for this very moment of reMembering. Literally. putting my Members back together. Gathering my Appendages and reSeaming myself. To stop the Somatic Pulling apart, the Center Won’t Hold, as long as these memories are buried.
Drawn and Quartered. In front of the Crowd. Among other things. ‘Yet for a time my hands were crippled’ .
The panic ( ah, the God Pan when he is not Faced and Fluidly Friended) of my wrists subluxing completely and losing my ability to create.
The following photos are from the Journal, and my Soul insisted on my reading it at that very moment.
In Pans Night.

CLJ 1-9-22

Journal entries in blood red ink

The 14th Gate

As Ketu moves into the 14th gate….edging over the next little while toward an exact conjunction with my exact sun/Uranus conjunction in Scorpio 1st house… this dream from last year on this date is so prescient…as I am been catapulted into an in depth intense and CATHARtic journey into my own Codings and Woundings, serpentine spine Wound Round by Time as Mind implodes.

Ketu always brings release. If one doesn’t give willingly, it will rip away in whatever way it needs.
It’s time. Remembering is just as painful as the DisMembering….more so if the original trauma/s were Blocked or Disassociated from. But to Feel is yo Become Real. Said the velveteen Rabbit.

*the number 14 has been synchronously penetrating into my world over and over and over in the past 6 months. It’s in key 14. 14 is the key.

{Last nights Dreamtime: while handling many rattlesnakes and attempting to remove them
From a room in someone else’s house….I analyze the connection to the stargates of the 64 Codons I.e hexagrams I.e squares on the chessboard …. and in particular my own internal relation to the 14th hexagram I.e Gate and the amino acid lysine. I find myself overlayed then in two different Dreamtime spaces at once, as if the intense focus along with the very ‘handling of the serpents’ creates an Opening into the gate itself. I awaken repeating over and over ‘it’s in key 14’

My old friend Rattlesnake, always powerful}~

So this is for us….

… so this is for us.
This is for us who sing, write, dance, act, study, run and love
and this is for doing it even if no one will ever know
because the beauty is in the act of doing it.
Not what it can lead to.
This is for the times I lose myself while writing, singing, playing
and no one is around and they will never know
but I will forever remember
and that shines brighter than any praise or fame or glory I will ever have,
and this is for you who write or play or read or sing
by yourself with the light off and door closed
when the world is asleep and the stars are aligned
and maybe no one will ever hear it
or read your words
or know your thoughts
but it doesn’t make it less glorious.
It makes it ethereal. Mysterious.
Infinite.
For it belongs to you and whatever God or spirit you believe in
and only you can decide how much it meant
and means
and will forever mean
and other people will experience it too
through you.
Through your spirit. Through the way you talk.
Through the way you walk and love and laugh and care
and I never meant to write this long
but what I want to say is:
Don’t try to present your art by making other people read or hear or see or touch it; make them feel it. Wear your art like your heart on your sleeve and keep it alive by making people feel a little better. Feel a little lighter. Create art in order for yourself to become yourself
and let your very existence be your song, your poem, your story.
Let your very identity be your book.
Let the way people say your name sound like the sweetest melody.

So go create. Take photographs in the wood, run alone in the rain and sing your heart out high up on a mountain
where no one will ever hear
and your very existence will be the most hypnotising scar.
Make your life be your art
and you will never be forgotten.”

― Charlotte Eriksson

Let your heart break

Photo by Kevin Stiles, model Jade Brannon, dress by Charleen Johnston

Let your heart break.
Let it bleed. Let it ache. Let all its pieces fall to the floor at your feet. Let the tears flow. Let yourself fall to your knees. Let the pain become physical.
Let yourself live in a way where your heart is allowed to be broken.
By this, I don’t mean put your heart in harm’s way and fail to care for its welfare. I don’t mean date people who are difficult to love and pretend it doesn’t matter when they throw you out like the day’s trash.
I don’t mean orchestrate your life in a way where your needs aren’t being met or you lack the feeling of love and support. I don’t mean neglect to put yourself first and position yourself as someone else’s proverbial punching bag.
I don’t mean choose self-destruction over self-construction.
What I mean is this: don’t be ashamed if you love hard and it falls apart. Don’t buffer the fact that your heart shattered to pieces. Don’t hide it, lie about it, shy away from it, or deny it.
Don’t avoid an important experience for fear that you’ll get hurt. Don’t look away from it when someone else is in pain, or when someone you love is suffering beyond your comprehension. Don’t mask it, ignore it, downplay it or try to escape from it.
Don’t think for a second that it is wrong for your heart to be breaking.
If your heart is broken — let it be broken.
Let it all fall apart.
Because there’s more than enough sorrow in this damn world that should, and will, eviscerate your heart.
I’m not just talking about your first love walking away, or your partner of 10 years deciding they want to be with someone else. I’m not just talking about losing a job or not getting into your college of choice.
I’m talking about things like watching a loved one die after months of suffering — or, on the other hand, having them die so suddenly you didn’t get the chance to say goodbye.
Losing a child that you loved more than anything, or losing a child before you had the opportunity to even get to know them.
Knowing that someone was abused, belittled and beaten because of the color of their skin or their sexual preference.
Finding out that someone who means the world to you has spent their whole life in a perpetual state of self-loathing.
Watching someone slowly die from the inside out and being utterly unable to change it.
Loss, destruction, inequality, unforgivable acts of violence, unimaginable amounts of pain — you’re never at a loss for reasons to be heartbroken.
And you have to let it in; you have to let the hurt come through. Because trust me: it’ll only eat you from the inside out if you don’t.

Let yourself feel the pain.
Pain changes you. It transforms you. It softens you and hardens you at the same time.
It breeds wisdom and humility. It puts things into perspective. It allows you to feel more empathy and compassion. It heightens your standards and lowers your guard.
You’ll never be the same; you’ll never go back to who you were before the breakdown, and that’s on purpose. That’s how it’s supposed to be.
It means you’ve grown. It means you cared about someone or something enough to get hurt. It means you put your precious heart into the way you live and love and approach significant situations in your life.
It means it all meant something. ⠀
If you’ve ever caught a glimpse of death, and just a tiny glimpse will do, you’ll know that none of the other shit matters. The status, the achievement, the money, the need to keep impressing people you don’t even know — none of that means one iota in the larger scheme of things.
The only thing that truly matters is that you loved and that you loved hard. And when you put your heart on the line, it opens itself up, and it also gets beat up. That’s how it all works.
That also means you’re doing something right.
Keep going.

~Shannon Leigh

Requiem

What does this spiral storm
Hold for me
Where does this winding path
Lead me

Am I passing thru unnoticed
In fragments of disguise
Remnants of understanding
Discarded
As l i e s….

The cycles compel us to
Forge forward
On this journey
The wheels of time
Ever so gently turning
Twisting
Stories and dreams
And whisperings into
Sculptures with essence
And imaginings

Dance like silver star s I l v e r n I g h t
Smiling from afar

(are we barred from ever reaching
Those shores that speak of transcendence?)

The ringing singing tone
Of E ve r y th I n g
Clap clapping deafening

Forces me to awaken from this dream

The requiem
Outlasted me

Finding once more simpler
Shores timeless tales metaphors

The path of fire that leads up thru time
Up thru spine out of mind

Is open before me

Am I
R e a d y to r e c I e v e ?

Charleen Johnston 2004

When I became a mother….

16 years ago I opened the Vesica so my Golden SonShine could spray his Radiance into this Reality.
I was told by so many people that I was Crazy…. For
Having an unassisted Pregnancy without a single doctor visit or test or invasion of my temple…for Birthing him at home, into my own hands, without outside interference by by anyone…..For not cutting his Umbilical cord and instead allowing it to detach in its own as he gently transitioned from one dimensional Space to another….for keeping him skin to skin contact constantly for the first week, and almost constantly til he could maneuver away on his own….for wearing him in slings snd on my back constantly til he walked at almost 10 months snd chose to run and explore….for never using diapers and instead learning his signals and pottying him…for Breasfeeding him til he turned 5, and never once giving him a bottle or pacifier or artificial external soothing substitutes…for sleeping with him for many years, and making sure his Bonding was secure and filled with love and support…never leaving him alone to cry as a baby…and especially called crazy and irresponsible for him never having been to a single doctor visit or test, nor allowed a single
Va$$ination or other invasion of his temple.

Everyone makes the choices they are comfortable with, and these were choices I was willing to defend with my life. When you defy everyone around you and in the face of societal and family programming, claim full Responsibility for your Gestation and Birth process and the consequences thereof, and choose to be a Testament to Sovereignty on all levels of your Being, you will receive all kinds of projections from the masses and from those who are so afraid of their own Power that they will silently hope for your downfall for the very act of standing against a System of Disempowerment.

It’s never easy to spend your life learning, and taking responsibility for your own Health and the health of your child. It takes courage and focus, and Trust in a level of being that will test every bit of you along the way. It’s not for the faint of heart. I’m not judging anyone who doesn’t make the same choices I made.
But I still stand by my own decisions, and I have a 16 year old blossoming Man, who has made it til now with not a single doctor visit ( minus a required Physical to enter high school)or allopathic intervention, or injection….he’s incredibly intelligent and quick minded, extremely robust physically, and very much his own person, with little care for impressing the crowd. I am grateful beyond measure.

I have made many hard decisions in my life, and more than once left behind everything I care about, in order to do what I felt was the right thing for the larger picture and others involved. Some may judge those decisions also, over the past several decades, harshly. The one thing I can stand by, is that every single choice I have ever made…I take full responsibility for. And there’s not a single person other than myself in all these years thst I blame for anything. Birthing my son in the way I did, and raising him against the tide of social norms and msss programming, was an Initiation of the highest order, and In the current climate of Medical Tyranny, and Invasion of Individual Will , and Rape of the Human Body and Mind with Injections and forced Penetration and Programs and surrender of Soul to a Machine that is little understood by those who have lived their entire life giving over the responsibility for their Lives and Health to something outside of them…. I Renew my Vow of Sovereignty…
And will undergo whatever further initiations that are calling me, with absolute surrender to my own Individual Path and Acceptance of Responsibility.
While allowing others to do whatever it is that they feel called to do, without interference by me.

May all beings find their Empowerment and reClaim their Divine Will and ReMember that Body is something so miraculously magical…. The more one lives in harmony snd devotion to their own physical body, the more they will live in alignment and devotion to the body of Earth…. And the less Fear of the greater Reality.

Blissed Be. Happy Birthday to my Starchild , and also to the Mother I became on this day 16 years ago.

CLJ 1-29-22

Multiplicatio

A temptation presents itself here at the end-the daimon of the postscript. The endlessness of the Know Thyself opus is, in Jung’s language, a process of individuation. As it goes on, the heat increases. The later, spirit operations take precedence, those called distillation , volatilization, sublimation, and particularly what the alchemists call multiplication. While these operations intensify the power of the spirit , they also tend to break the psychic vessel and spill out into matter, action, society, politics, with the fervent urgency of prophesy and mission. With every increase of the spirits heat, there needs to be a corresponding increase of the souls capacity to contain it, to amplify within its inner sacral space. This space, this colorful and intricate carpet of the soul, it’s bordures and silks, is the vessel of the anima- nurturer, weaver, reflector. The conjunctio, here, is the contained spirit, this spirited, inspired containment.

The multiplicatio is thus not a world mission, nor is the tincture a direct, naive spreading into and staining with spirit the matters of the political, social world. Rather, I suggest, the multiplicatio is an effect of touching all points of the soul, it’s hundred channels of images, with spiritedness- and of bringing soul-laden imagery by means of which brilliant impulses of the spirit can find witness and know themselves. Know Thyself here leaves the knower altogether, becoming the spirits self-knowledge in the mirror of the soul, the souls recognition of its spirits. The multiplicatio, with its hot redness, spreads it’s own way into corpus, the body of the world of material events transfusing through the middle realm, the soul or animal. Then these material, political, social events are envisioned themselves as multiplicity-no longer a dualism of spirit versus matter, calling to dialectical battle. No longer polarity, but plurality. Or to put it again: the Psyche first, then world. Through Psyche, the mediatrix, to world, and the world too, psyche, released thereby to many worlds.

James Hillman, Nachklang, Healing Fiction